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WE ARE BACK IN AMERICA!

Fred and Carol Moore

© 2003-2011 by Author

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The Trip To Helen

Click photos to enlarge

A weekend away; we had made plans for the Easter weekend but things didn’t work out. It’s Carol’s birthday weekend as well so we decided to simply run away. As is our custom, we acted on simple spontaneity and set off for a small adventure. There’s a small community in northwest Georgia called, Helen; it’s an alpine village with German traits from what we gather and we want to see it. Carol gets into the internet, does a search and finds us lodging; due to the weekend almost everything is booked but we get a hit on Country Inn & Suites.

We set out early Saturday morning; we drive the country roads west and north into the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. The closer we get to our chosen destination the more the highway raises and falls as it clings to the rolling hills; the asphalt ribbon meanders through most beautiful countryside. It’s obvious as we climb into the foothills that the temperature here has been lower than Augusta because the blossoms on the trees are still with us. There are the dogwood, walnut, chestnut, and Wisteria vines; all magnificent spring blooms that add a splash of color to the multitude of greens all around us. Spring is always a wonderful time of year; new birth and a new beginning for everything. I’m never more aware of our mortality than when I see the spectacular array of nature, the cycle of life surrounding me.

We’re a couple hours into our drive now and we’ve passed through a dozen little communities, all claiming some historic significance. There’s truly no doubt history has come and gone here as it does across the globe but somehow the south seems to clamor for historic recognition. Carol and I like stopping at antique shops and this trip has given us a number of good notes of places to stop and look into; we won’t do it today but certainly as we get more settled we’ll return to these shops for a day or even a weekend away.

Carol has entered into the GPS, the address for the local Country Inn & Suites, to ensure we get into the village of Helen by the shortest route possible. I bought this GPS hoping to save time and assist Carol with her expert navigation; I’ve found, though, that most of the time Carol is far more accurate and far better at conversation, HaHaha! I find the little box (as I call the thing) (I should be careful here), of some use to us but I still prefer Carol's direction finding talents as she has been my navigator for 30 years! A month or so ago the little thing got us into a dead end road and kept telling me to turn left; there was only one small problem, there was no left, no right and no straight ahead, the road simply ended!

As we drive through these little villages on our trip we continue to be awed by the older homesteads and community houses of age that we encounter. It’s very obvious to us which homes are hundreds of years old and those that are newer. I find it pretty easy to establish age or era based on architecture; the large Victorians are usually from the late 1800s or early 1900s while those built in the nineteen fifties feature that art deco design. We continue to talk about getting into some of these old homes. We would love to see just how really large and wonderful they must have been in their day. I’m always very heartened to see a beautiful old home in a well-cared- for state of repair, but I too realize how tremendously costly this upkeep is when you’re dealing with a home that was built 100 or 150 plus years ago.

Here we are arriving in Helen; the GPS gets us to our hotel easily (although later I see it would have been far easier from the main road) and we park to ask about check-in. We’re too early we feel, but go in to check the room status. We weren’t sure how long it would take to drive and find it was easy at only about 3 hours. At the front desk we’re welcomed very warmly; the lady tells us they’ve been booked solid and there’s nothing available. She invites us to leave the car and walk to the village a couples blocks up the hill. We thank her and take her advice; the walk is only slightly inclined so we simply take it easy and enjoy the new scenes around us.

This is an alpine village (I’ve not seen the real thing, so there is nothing to compare it with but simply to repeat it...because the literature does!) it appears to be a story book adventure in the making. Most of the village is painted in the same color scheme in the area where our hotel is located and obviously the local authorities dictate the signage and architecture. As we walk, we pass a Huddle House and Wendy’s, they’re almost not recognizable; it’s wonderful to see the uniform content of structure after structure as we pass. We cross the river into the heart of the village; here the colors of the buildings make one feel as though they’ve stepped into a wonderland, not of this place or time. There are horse drawn carriages plying the street and masses of humanity going helter skelter in all directions. We walk up one side of the street while popping in and out of shops: gift shops, candy shops and vintage photo shops galore! There are also restaurants and bars clustered among all the shops. We pass a wonderful park on a very steep hillside with a small waterfall descending toward the sidewalk. We stop at a pastry shop just past the park and get a ‘fat pill’: I get an apple fritter, Carol gets a muffin with Bavarian cream! Oh, these are just it! We walk a little further down the hill from the pastry shop and then cross the street to walk back up the other side.

We pass more restaurants as we ascend the hill to re-enter the heart of the shopping area, passing clothes shops and far more gift shops; candy, t-shirt, music boxes, woodworking and many other sights. We’ve been walking and popping into shops a couple hours and decide to return to the hotel to check in. As I enter the lobby the lady behind the counter says, "you’re all set we have you in room 203 just up the stairs here," as she points the way.

I get the bags from the car and we go to our room. Very nice, located at the front of the building with a view looking away from the village that adorns the hill country behind us. We put things away, freshen up and then go back to the hustle and bustle of the village center. Once more we pop in and out of a number of shops and then decide to take one of the carriages on its trip around the village; this isn’t a tour nor is it any real adventure, the carriage simply takes a loop around the back street and returns to where we’re standing; the ride is about fifteen minutes. If you want a carriage ride it fills the bill but in my opinion, the only person who gets anything from it is the guy or girl taking the FEE! Yes, we did it and yes, tons of others were doing it as well but I’m not at all sure I wouldn’t have lived just as well had I not done it! The best part was the horse – a wonderful Belgian tan. The driver handed me a carrot after the ride and said I could feed the horse; I’m not sure why but I did it anyway. There was a dark chestnut (near black) horse drawing a carriage behind ours, she was a beautiful animal as well.

Our next adventure was an early dinner at the “authentic” German restaurant – we both had a pork meal and it was excellent! There was the opportunity for a glass boot full of beer as well but we both passed that by; I don’t drink beer anyway and the cost of a boot is $40!; refills are only $15. After our meal we crossed the street and sat on a bench watching a flamboyantly dressed gentleman sitting on a box, playing a miniature banjo. He wore a multi colored long-tail suit jacket, a straw tophat, strange eye glasses and vintage footwear; he was a bit of a mime as well as a street musician. There was a small red pail at his feet for passersby to deposit coins or paper money; the dropping of coins brought on a chord or two while paper made him seem far more animated. After several minutes of strumming he went silent and very stiff – made some folks wonder if he were real. It was fascinating to watch the crowd; children are always fun to study but many adults seemed taken with this guy as well. Many wanted a photo with him and other I think simply wanted to relieve themselves of loose pocket change.

Aside from our eating and the carriage ride, I bought a book about the history of the area. Helen wasn’t actually incorporated as a village/town until 1913 even though its history dates to the Revolutionary War era. This whole neighborhood was Cherokee Indian land before the “white man” commandeered it. It was also Creek Indian territory in some form during those early years. Treaties between the US Government and the Indians brought the land into settler use; lotteries were held to distribute the area to those newcomers. Four families were the original winners of the lotteries and they received 250 acres each. Only one of those families has any relatives left in the area. The first turnpike in Georgia traversed this valley and was apparently a major artery between Augusta and Tennessee. Well, we’ve sat here for a long time and it’s time to get up; old joints don’t appreciate hard surfaces and now to make the legs function, HaHaHa. We walk leisurely back down the main street, across the river and on to our hotel for the evening.

Good morning, the hotel offers a continental breakfast so we go down for a look and the place is jammed. Carol gets the scrambled eggs and I get the biscuits and gravy – yes, just what I don’t need. Amazingly the selection is good; once we’re finished we decide to go for a drive. We head out for North Carolina and Tennessee as we want to make a loop around the area. It’s a beautiful day and the drive is again on winding hilly roads. An hour into our drive we come upon a sign for Tallulah Falls and I decide to drive that way. As we emerge from one bend in the road we find a tourist shop on the rim of the gorge and stop to take a look. We’re 1,000 feet above the river here and the view is panoramic and vast; the white water of the river is echoing through the gorge. The gift shop has plenty of souvenirs as they all do and I buy another book, this one for our grandson Logan; it’s a poem about salamanders and the park; all about a “salamander ball”.

We continue our drive to the visitor center for North Carolina and pick up a map and use the rest stop. We head for Franklin, NC and Tennessee but find Tennessee is further than we want to drive, so we turn south headed back to Helen. I spoke of the color green earlier; I continue to be awed by the shades of green in nature. There must be a dozen different greens all around us as we drive through this magnificent landscape. The road has become far more winding and it’s obvious we’re in the mountains, first climbing then descending as we continue. A damn was erected up here and has created a wonderful blue water reservoir; it seems to brighten our right side of the road for mile after mile. First we’re next to it then we’ve lost it and before long it’s there beside us once more.

We’re back in Helen now, we stop at the local supermarket as we come into the village; it’s a general store that claims age and prominence in the community. It’s far larger than I expected and it’s full of gifts and supermarket fare; it has a large selection of wines as well as bakery and deli counter. Once our visit is ended here we drive up the street a short way to the pastry shop we visited yesterday and have lunch; they have a small restaurant. I’m amazed by the lack of tourists today, yesterday everything was overrun, today there’s almost no one around. Carol reminds me it’s Easter and the spring break is over for the kids so everyone has gone home. We both have a sandwich and then head back to the hotel. We once again leave the car and walk back to the village; we find another bench and people watch. The air is fresh and cool, the crowds are far thinner and we simply consume the surrounding with great pleasure.

Several hours slip by us as we relax and put global events on hold. Carol decide we need to get a snack so we go down by the river and visit a restaurant for a margarita and some chips; while sitting on the river’s edge we watch the final minutes of the Masters Golf Tournament; that shot by Watson from the rough was spectacular! We relaxed for another hour and then walked back to the hotel for the evening.

Breakfast. There’s hardly anyone here today, everyone really has gone on their way. We have a leisurely meal and get on the road home ourselves. We intend to stop at several antique shops as we drive home; what we don’t know is that Monday is NOT a shopping day, all the shops we hoped to visit are closed Mondays. Our drive was leisurely and we got home just after lunch; we had a wonderful time away and may go back but not to Helen, there are plenty of wonderful things just beyond it that need visiting.

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