Back from my super '70s National Geographic style vacation to a cabin in the mountains all brought to you in muted glory by my iphone.
I'm a girl that needs a lot of alone time and even though I live alone sometimes I need even MORE alone time (I'm greedy) so I decided to escape my nightmare schedule of playing on the internet and snuggling with my cat to really spend some Q. T. with M. E.
AND because I'm a saint I wanted no tv or internet, too. (But I did have a decent phone connection so I wasn't recreating a sexier and more hilarious version of "Into the Wild" - I just needed to check in and make sure my cat was being appropriately snuggled with while I was gone.)
So I went to the woods to get in touch with my inner hippie goddess of magical witchy fun times and tree dancing.
And Instagram filters. I couldn't help it. Sorry.
But if it makes you feel any better about the fauxthentic picture spread, here at the Amicalola Falls where most of these pictures were taken there were a lot of really tight high-waisted jeans and long hair and dudes with big beards so my Instagrams edits weren't that far off.
Also, this inner hippie goddess thing is very bossy.
Amicalola Falls is about two hours away from Chattanooga in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Northwest Georgia. It's also a short 8.5 mile hike to the start of the Appalachian Trail. I did not go there - I got as far as this historical marker. I did my best just to make the hike from the parking lot to the base of the waterfall.
It was Memorial Day and fucking humid as fuckity fuck. Did I mention hot as dragon's balls? Because it was that too. I stopped and took a bunch of pictures of boring shit just so I could catch my breath and make sure I wasn't sweating through my pants. Again.
"Oh goodness, at this dead tree here! Isn't nature awesome? I can't wait to make this look like a mildewed picture from a 1974 National Geographic found in a box in basement! Do I have a sweat outline of my panties again? Be grateful I didn't wear a thong, fellow Falls adventurers."
But I made it! Well, I thought I did until I saw this sign:
Well fuck. At least they warned me. I sat and drank another Life Water because I'm a douchebag and tried to build up the emotional fortitude to make the hike.
I also saw entire families walking back down - families with half a dozen toddlers that were being carried by women. Women in saris and cute flats and full makeup. And then I saw a pregnant woman who wasn't even sweating come back down. And then I saw some grandmas making the return trip. I think they were knitting...
But once I saw the guy smoking a MOTHERFUCKING PIPE start up the strenuous 175 steps I slapped myself and started on my stairmaster hell.
After 57 steps I stopped at the out-of-shape losers platform where a bunch of us were trying to look like we wanted to take pictures of some trees instead of looking like out-of-shape losers. A chubby dog and I locked eyes and panted at each other from across the bench.
"At least you don't have a sweat river running down your boobs, buddy."
"At least you didn't scrape off a testicle trying to jump up stairs that weren't made for paws."
Touche, my furry friend.
I made it! And so did my half-neutered friend. Ahhh the splendor of nature.
With another 400 steps I could have walked to the top! But I was out of Life Waters. Wah wah waahhhh.
So I drove! And it was worth it.
But my mountain safari was done and I needed to spend some time taking a nap. And showering.
Thus begins redneck cabin time.Woodland nymph communion commences!
It was a pretty bitchin cabin as long as you were cool with a timber-covered trailer in the middle of nowhere vibe which is like my personal DREAM VACATION. Oh wait... kinda like the one I'm on.
This is so terrible. I loved it.
However, I learned that the resort/conference center I stayed at was actually more of a couples' retreat when I noticed my cabin was located on Lover's Lane. *eyeroll*
If there was any confusion about the true nature of my hideaway it was cleared up once I saw this on the other side of the bedroom:
|Seriously, the Instagram filter hardly changed this photo.|
Cue porn music! That's a giant hot tub. INSIDE the cabin. With a deck. Complete with a heart-shaped rug on it. Gawd bless these people.
Just to make my solo vacation even more ironic, I read the guest book on the coffee table and Nicole from Conyers, Georgia wrote that she hoped they - and this is a real quote - "cleaned this cabin really well after we leave!" Emphasis hers.
So I spent the rest of my few days napping on a towel that I put down on the couch and eating dinner at the table that was covered in towels but unfortunately I couldn't sleep standing up. Hopefully the bleach I put in the hot tub santized me.
Just kidding. I didn't come within five feet of the STD petri dish.
But now all the staff comments about "So you're here alone, honey????!?!!" really made sense. I just thought they were being super judgey about my solo vacation.
Aside from the terrible visual images of a hot tub full of fucking, I read a good book and did some swinging on the porch swing (with a towel on it) and had a perfectly lovely few days to myself.
My blood thirsty inner hippie goddess was sated for a few more months.
|I brake for chainsaw sculpture art.|
I was fortunate enough to also find some gems along the drive to my retreat like this folk art studio (Being a true Southerner, I'm great at Sunday drives no matter the day). These people got in touch with their inner hippie goddesses about 40 years ago and didn't let go.
AND they had an old white camper and a white peacock in their backyard-slash-outdoor sculpture garden -slash-zoo. Um hello?! I couldn't NOT stop. This is the image that best sums up what my soul looks like.
And maybe my soul looks a bit like this scary abandoned schoolhouse (?)...
And definitely this vintage hotel sign. Minus the super racist part.
All in all I had a great week off - mountaineering, napping, drinking, eating, Doctor Who-ing and partying! Next post: patio partio.
But now I'm busy trying remember how to use the internet so I can buy a white peacock and start a white animal zoo. I've only got one (live) white animal so far but fingers crossed. My birthday is just a few months away.
Maybe I can even get a white walker from Game of Thrones and chain it up in the backyard like in Shaun of the Dead...?? A girl can dream!