Portal into a New Dimension (Autonomy Ranch) 12.23.24

 

The Redmonds Went Down to Georgia, November, 2021

It has been a dream of LCR’s for quite a while to have a trailer that would be comfortable in any weather.  After much research he finally found it, a brand appropriately called Bigfoot, made in Canada.  One reason for this trip was to pick up a Bigfoot from a dealer in Norcross, GA, near Atlanta.  We had already sold our beloved vintage Burro trailer to a friend. 

As with any new vehicle, there were a few things to learn about the Bigfoot, and we spent the better part of a day at the dealership being shown its various features and quirks.  It is the same length as the Burro but heavier, better insulated, and with many more features.  We left the dealership but returned the following morning, having spent some time buying parts and accessories, to fill the water tank.

Driving through Georgia, we saw many large fields of cotton.  I’ve been to Georgia before but I don’t remember seeing these fields.  I could not resist stopping by a field that appeared to have been picked already, to glean some plants from around the edge.  This was tricky because there was no fence, but a ditch all around the field, with water in places. 

 In Georgia one does not hang around near ditches filled with water.  (I discovered this when I took a walk through a campground and saw a “Beware of alligator” sign near the water.)  

I found a dry, much shallower place to jump the ditch.  Cotton on the plant looks exactly like absorbent cotton you might buy at a drugstore for your face or first aid kit.  Honestly, I never knew that.  The plants were being sold at roadside fruit and vegetable stands, along with pumpkins, for harvest decorations. 

Heading south and east for the purpose of viewing some of the trial of Armaud Arbery’s killers, we were misdirected by GoogleMaps.  On Blythe Island, in Brunswick, Georgia, there are apparently several roads with names like Blythe Island Way and Blythe Island Drive.  We were directed to the wrong one.  In trying to find a campground where we had a reservation, we turned into a church parking lot.  The road just before the turn was poorly lit and we overshot by about 10 feet, going into a ditch.  Attempts to adjust the brake controller and “rock” the car and trailer out of the ditch were ineffective.  Meanwhile, a local woman stopped by and asked if we needed help.  She called her husband who came with a truck and towing equipment.  Others stopped by and before long we had at least 10 people helping out and giving opinions.  The problem was not only being stuck in a ditch, but the left rear wheel was nearly in a steel culvert.  Eventually the strategy agreed on was to unhitch the trailer, get the car towed out and reattach the trailer, towing it separately to a level part of the parking lot.  As LCR commented later, we probably could have gotten the SUV out ourselves once the trailer was unhitched, just using 4-wheel drive, and we could then have rehitched the trailer to our vehicle from a different angle and driven off, but our helpers were so involved in the rescue that they insisted on towing the vehicle and then hitching the trailer to their own truck to tow it to a level, safe place.  They provided tools, muscle and much advice.  At one point, not realizing the trailer brakes were locked as part of a fail-safe mechanism, the many men in attendance physically muscled the trailer, which weighs several thousand pounds, to one side to be re-hitched.  As the woman who initially stopped had predicted, we were out and on our way less than an hour from becoming stuck, and had saved what would have been a substantial towing fee.  We were profuse with our thanks and remarked on the goodwill we had seen and felt, and one man remarked, “See, this goes to show you – don’t believe what you see on the news!  There is hope.”  With that, the good people of Blythe Island disappeared as quickly as they had come.  They refused any kind of payment.  We do not even know their names. 

The trial was of great interest from both a political and legal perspective, so we went to the Glynn County courthouse in Brunswick, Georgia to sit in for a day.  This particular day was devoted to debate on jury instructions.  It was pretty dry compared to the drama of days past.  There were strict limits on the number of people allowed in the courtroom, so we were in an overflow room watching the proceedings on a screen, and there were not many besides ourselves in the room.  Still it was interesting to see how high-powered, experienced lawyers handled the sensitive issues involved in agreeing to the jury instructions the judge was going to use.  The closer it got to 5 pm, the more tired and edgy everyone became.  The judge even remarked it was getting harder to think things through.  The day ended at around 5:20 pm.  As for the rest of the trial, which began again the following Monday, you know the rest.

In Brunswick there is a huge live oak.  It is called the Lover’s Oak because there is a legend that local Native American couples used to meet there.  The tree is estimated to be over 900 years old. 

It would be a shame to come all the way to the Atlantic coast and not see anything in the area, so we chose to visit Fort Pulaski, on Cockspur Island off the Georgia coast.  This is a beautifully restored Civil War fort, named after the Polish soldier Casimir Pulaski, the Revolutionary War hero who died in the siege of Savannah in 1779.  The fort has an interesting history which is a bit out of the ordinary for military monuments, for it tells of a battle in which the defender of the fort knew when to surrender.  We learned about the battle from the displays in the Visitor’s Center, but also from the knowledgeable park ranger, a kindred spirit who was crocheting as she related the history.  The Confederates held the fort, which had been designed in part by the young officer and engineer Robert E. Lee, and most of the surrounding area.  The fort itself was state-of-the-art and considered invincible.  The Rebs were not worried about the advancing Union troops, but they did not know of a new advance in technology, a rifled cannon which was more accurate and far-reaching than smooth-bore cannons then in use.  When the 12-foot brick walls began to give way and the main powder magazine was in danger, commander Charles H. Olmstead, surrendered after 30 hours of bombardment rather than see the entire fort, along with over 380 soldiers, blow up.  He apparently always struggled with the decision, but felt it was the right one at the time.  He went on to serve in the war for several more years.  The Union officer who seized the fort, Quincy A. Gillmore, was promoted to Brigadier General. 

Visitors can walk around and inside the fort.  You can still see considerable damage from the bombardment and several cannonballs remain buried in the walls.  A 7-foot deep, 30-50 foot wide moat surrounds the fort, complete with a drawbridge and huge doors reminiscent of “Lord of the Rings.”  Many rooms in the interior walls have been restored with artifacts and descriptions of life inside the fort.  In the middle, on what would have been the parade ground, there is a low but very wide spreading tree, completely white when we saw it.  It is a fig tree, planted by a lighthouse keeper who, for many years after the fort ceased to be used for military purposes, was the only occupant.  He grew figs and pecans and had a large garden.  Apparently the fig tree still produces enough figs for National Park Service employees to make jam and other delicacies using its fruit.  I was sorry it was not in season.  And that there was no fig jam in the gift shop!

We try to avoid a lot of night driving due to vision issues, but that evening we encountered one of those roads which look deceptively short on the map and on a GPS screen, but twist and turn up, up, up a mountain.  By the time we got to our campground it was completely dark and not only the lights but the reflective paint on the road was long gone.  The campground was called Bigfoot Adventure, and featured ziplines and other activities, but of course we were on our way back to Chicago so we could not experience any of the fun, and it was out of season anyway. 

Bigfoot Adventure was in Tracy City, a former coal town notable for, in 2010, electing a mayor who had died a month before the election.  When asked by the press how she felt about losing to a dead man, the challenger replied, “I’ll live.  I’m a survivor.”  However, she did not become mayor; the aldermen as a committee chose someone else. 

Our last night was eventful in that the heat in the new Bigfoot refused to come on.  Since the vehicle is brand new, it shouldn’t be a problem getting service, but it was already dark when we stopped.  We tried everything including getting technicians from the dealership in Georgia on the phone, and instead of panicking, weighed all our options carefully.  Temperatures were forecast to drop below freezing in northern Louisville that night.  We’ve been in cold situations before and have the true pioneer spirit, so . . . we went to Wal-Mart and bought a small space heater.  Like so many things, fixing the heat can be done another day.

Gas prices:

Chicago - $3.65

Low – $2.99 off the I-24 somewhat south of Nashville

High - $3.79 somewhere in Georgia

 

Signage:

Outside a restaurant in Vienna, Illinois:  Spread butter, not Covid.

Sign for Buc-Ees restaurant:  Burgers, beavers, bathrooms.

Ad for Georgia Aquarium:  Shark curve and teeth ahead.

Sign on stone business in Brunswick, Georgia:  Let’s get stone.

Sign on back of semi-truck:  Passing side (left), suicide (right).

 

And the winner:

Outside an auto repair shop in Vienna, Illinois:  Mask, no mask, vax, no vax, all are welcome.

Best, Lu