And a full moon it was. The Geester\’s uncle has a chunk of land up in the North Georgia hills, and he was nice enough to let Paul2k, Ben, and me go up and squat last Saturday night. There\’s actually a cabin on the land that I\’ve stayed in a couple times, but we were out for a little rougher accomodations than the cabin. Up the hill from the cabin, there is a bend and a split in one of the old logging roads that criss cross the land. On this bend there is a pile of old rocks stacked in the faint shape of a chimney. This is Polly\’s Chimney, and this is where we camped. Looky:
On the wall of the current cabin, there\’s a written history of Polly\’s Chimney in letter form that I\’ve read through a couple times, but, because I don\’t speak ore-prospector-with-a-typewriter, I can\’t seem to pick out much usable information. Apparently there was a lady named Polly who was married to a guy. The guy got into a bar brawl in town and received a mighty blow to the head. He died from this wound 14 days later. Polly, now a widow, named her house after herself. Hence, Polly\’s Chimney. Below are a couple other notable shots, but you should just go peep the flickr set.
How can you tell if you\’re camping in Georgia?
The photo below says \”• Justin • 10/05 • Adam •\”
Is this the work of two nubile males, hiding their love for each other deep in the woods of repressive North Georgia? Or is this the work of two hilariously ignorant yokels who have no idea how gay this carving looks? \”Hey Adam! Check this shit out. I done carved our names into this stupid tree here. Gimme that, it\’s mah turn t\’shoot at the fahr.\” The bullet casings would lead me to believe the latter explanation, but the message\’s symmetry and use of the • nice • round • seperators • does point toward the former. Also, there\’s nothing that says a couple gay dudes can\’t empty a box of ammo into a firepit. We also found Corona Light bottle caps. Corona Light? Hmmm … Brokeback, indeed.