While the Devil was down in Reed Bingham using gnats and ants to steal souls, an Angel was flying high over Cloudland Canyon State Park in the northern Georgia mountains dropping midnight rain to symbolically cleanse our spirits for our new year ahead.
It was the Fall of 2023 when we last visited this touchstone destination; a 600+ mile press, fisst stop on our Journey to the Hi Line. We arrived at dusk to hunt for the walk-in campground where we pitched the Grand Hut and warmed-up thawed tuna casserole before a short next morning hike to the park’s signature overlook then off to Louisville for Jim Beam, Kentucky Downs, Slugger bat factory, an Arts Festival and a Hot Brown sandwich. Phew. We are experienced at packing it all in.
Cloudland Canyon is a 180 from Reed B. No bugs, cool temps, deep canyons, beautiful campsites and a peaceful easy feeling. We unhitched the T@G, started a fire and warmed-up thawed beef barley stew before buttoning up camp under the psithurism of roaring thunder and soughing leaves. The night was different because we were not worried about getting wet, being wet, packing up the wet. Instead we could enjoy the drop in temperature, nestle into our teardrop to watch the lightning through the skylight and hear the thunder crackling through the open windows before the skies opened and the rain fell.
The morning delivered low clouds that covered the canyon. We made a pot of coffee with turkey on pumpernickel sandwiches and set off for a sunrise hike to Cherokee Falls. The path to the falls is National Park level good. Concrete pavement gives way to a manicured dirt trail with 211 solid metal stairs to get to the floor of the falls, complete with rest and reflect opportunities. Cherokee was flowing from a week of heavy rains. We ate our breakfast and contemplated what would happen if someone went over the falls. Would they hit the wall of rocks? How deep was the pool? What if they were in a kayak? Would it launch and drop or just plummet nose first? What are the chances of survival? Then we packed up and headed back. It was two hours to Nashville and thunder was rumbling.
Like so many want-a-be country music stars, we rolled into Nashville in a heavy downfall with high hopes. Nashville has become one of America’s hottest mid-sized towns. A Mecca for Gen Z looking to build a life with the third fastest growing economy and the number one housing market. We found property to rent down the road from the Grand Ole Opry; a small slip of gravel nestled between a sprawling Camping World Mega Store. Parked among the rolling condos, T@G looked bug-like, but it was all we needed. Two Rivers Campground, urban and dense, was the exact opposite of Cloudland, but awesome in its own way. A clean, convenient, friendly oasis in the middle of Music City.
The Redheaded Stranger restaurant is tucked into trendy East Nashville where the average home price has increased from 100,000 in 2010 to 600,000 today. Country locals flock to the Michelin Bib Gourmand rated eatery. Basically, it’s a taco joint but that’s a little like saying that James Dean was an actor. We did our best to blend in and soak up the vibe. It would have helped to have a sleeve of tats and be 30 years younger. The meal was cheap and incredible. Gen Z may be on to something here.
Eric’s birthday present was a four hour open pickleball sesh at the Centennial Sportsplex in the heart of Midtown. Repping the over 60 Florida demographic, he mixed it up with the crowd of young’uns who have definitely discovered America’s fastest growing sport. It is a crazy paddle battle where 20-somethings and 60-somethings can play competitively with each other. There were a few other retirees on court from Boston and New York who had settled in Nashville for their golden years in an effort to escape the hard winters of the North and hard summers of the South. Hopefully they bought their retirement home before 2010.
Later that evening back at camp the sounds of country music floated through the air from the nightly live music on the porch. This is Music City for goodness sake. We noshed on gourmet mushroom pizza in a white sauce take out from Sho Pizz, another trendy Bib rated east Nashville hot spot. The only two sitting outside (because we have no other options) among 108 big rigs, we drew the attention of the dog walkers. They could not decide if we were Nashville cool or Nashville crazy.
