Kissing the Roof of Georgia

Beautiful North Georgia Mountains

Adventure Time!

Yesterday was a very good day. While most of you dragged yourselves out of bed and off to work or school, I dressed warmly, gathered my camera, laced my boots and headed out to meet my friend Bryan Thompson (some know him as IK, King of the Trolls) and Gina to go on what Bryan termed "a day of adventure." This trip was in payment for some editing that I did for a book that Bryan has written (more on this and the webseries he's involved in very soon). Now I know that most editors don't take payment in the form of adventures, but this editor does sometimes. In this particular case, I know that the writer's idea of adventure is something that is worth accepting when offered. So the three of us took off in his green Explorer with 240,000+ miles on it, and headed north.

Magic in the Air

I have always and forever been a beach girl. The ocean is one of the most calming places I know. As I've gotten older (no, I'm not that old, seriously), I've become more and more fond of North Georgia. There is something about going up into areas that still look like my childhood and where the air is clear. We headed to Chatsworth, Georgia and after lunch, the Explorer rolled through the gateway of what I think of as the roof of Georgia.  Technically, this thought is incorrect (the highest point in Georgia is Brasstown Bald at 4,784 feet above sea level where Fort Mountain [where we went] is only 4,163 feet above sea level), but I'm the author of this blog, and so for me it was like being on the roof of Georgia. 

Fort Mountain is amazing in that it is part natural, part archeological and part anomaly. It is part of a beautiful forest of trees and rock. While we were there, we saw four or five deer, who all seemed focused on eating and getting out of our way. The air was pure and silent. I could hear my inner chatter calm down a bit. I think my mind was shocked by the quiet. On the mountain is a peak with a strange stone wall/formation/fort. The plaques tell a story of strange visitors who built the fort. You can almost see the warriors standing guard against...who knows. The area is eerie. I kept searching for logic. Why is this wall there? What sort of force would call for a fort like this in the middle of what would have been dense forest? The rocks told me nothing. What makes the mountain an anomaly is that there is a ley line on the mountain. This itself in not unusual. What is unusual is that the ley line energy runs up the mountain instead of down. Now I know that some of you will think this is nonsense, but just keep reading.

The best part of the visit was yet to come. We climbed beyond the fort. Up and up. Then we found the tower. This is a fairly youthful tower that was built in the 30s to watch for fires. Whoever built it had the foresight to make it look medieval. Bryan led us on, speaking the history and stories of the mountain.

Then there was the platform. 

I am not a fan of heights. I like to pretend they don't bother me, but there are times when I'm mortified, like when I ride the cable cars at Stone Mountain (another mountain south of Atlanta. It's made of granite). If you manage to get me on the cable car, you have to just accept that I will end up on the floor whimpering. All I can see is that cable snapping like a tiny string and slinging the car into the air only to crash down on the country store at the bottom of the mountain. 

My daring faerie child

I say all of this because the platform was different. I wasn't frightened as I walked out onto the platform that was build off the edge of the mountain. The drop was massive. The side of the mountain is encrusted with granite boulders. Gina was bold and went to sit on a rock on the side of the mountain. It was like she was at home. 

All I could do is stare and gape. Bryan calls it his "church." I've been in lots of churches in my time, but this isn't just a church. It's a cathedral. It's the rafters above the cathedral. For a moment or two or three, I kept feeling that I could reach up and touch the curve of the sky. I wondered how close I was to the edge of the atmosphere. The longer I stayed, the less I wanted to return. Later, Bryan asked me if I had felt anything funky. 

Define "Funky"

When he asked me this question, I wasn't completely sure how to answer. I believe many things that I cannot see or prove. Funky could indicate any number of things, and I wasn't sure I had felt anything funky per se. Gina is the one who usually discovers the funky parts of places. I'm fairly mundane in comparison.

What I felt was peace, calm, and contentedness. I felt open in a way that I don't often feel. This is a feeling I get at the beach when it is empty of other people. It's the feeling I get when I camp and wake up before the sun rises. The weight of being a 21st century person dropped for just a little bit. I knew why he called it church because in those moments, it was my church too.

I don't consider this funky. These are things I crave. 

Gifts of the Adventure

Like every good adventure, there are tokens we bring back. Gifts that mark the adventure as its own special goodness. This adventure was no different. Yes, this trip was intended as payment for a job well done, and I was happy for the chance. What I didn't expect was to have a chance to really reconnect with a friend who had been through lots with me and while we went separate directions. The real gift in this adventure was the pleasure of saying things that needed to be said and remembering good and bad things that have happened along the way. It was replacing what we thought we knew about one another with what we actually are as individuals.

Yesterday was a reminder that I am surrounded by people who consistently blow my socks off. Bryan blows my socks off. Gina blows my socks off. The mountains were part of the funky magic that amplified this knowledge. Maybe this will float me for a little while as I re-enter the classroom where my creativity and calm is challenged daily. Maybe I'll just close my eyes and transport myself to that aerie where I kissed the roof of Georgia and the mountain held me closely and comforted me for a few moments.