Welcome to Charming Blue Ridge, Georgia - Day 2

Day 2*
This morning I got up early for me (7 a.m.), had some coffee with M&M (that should be their couple name!) and got on Rt. 23/441 south out of Franklin. I still had some work hanging around from the day before, so I stopped in a coffee shop and banged the keys until mid-morning, and got back on the road.

Within 10 miles I was in Georgia. I don’t know much about Georgia, but I know enough to obey the speed limits. Specially, in small towns. Although the stereotype needs updating, because now towns have “Speed Zone” warning signs posted as you enter. These zones include automated speed control cameras that get the license plate number of speeders (especially from out of state, I assume) and sends them a ticket. I’d prefer that approach to a Georgia State Trooper walking up the car and asking what a Yankee from Virginia is doing in his state.

I got on Rt. 76 headed west through the town of Hiawassee, where the river level is so low the waterfront restaurants are being sued for false advertising. Heading out of Hiawassee, I climbed Rt. 76 into Chattahoochee National Forest and the Blue Ridge Mountains that run down from Virginia and cut the northwest corner of Georgia.

By now it was getting near mid-day. So, just short of my turn south on Rt. 2, I pulled into Blue Ridge, Ga. Blue Ridge is a pretty little town built around the endpoint of the 100-mile Marietta and North Georgia Railroad line that runs north from outside Atlanta. The Blue Ridge economy boomed once the line was laid in 1886, with timber as the main export.

These days the main product of the town is “charm.” Blue Ridge is where charm goes to reproduce, like trout swimming up an Appalachian Mountain stream to spawn. You can’t swing a dead Oncorhynchus mykiss (assuming you can hold on to it) without hitting a charming restaurant, a charming boutique or a charming scenic rail route choo-choo train.

All sorts of charm are on tap: small-town charm, outdoorsy charm, crunchy granola charm, and the kind of charm that this restaurant subtly advertises. See if you can spot their type of charm:

Fig. A: Relax into this picture and you might see the hidden charm

You know what kind of charm there is NOT in Blue Ridge? Parking space charm. I did so many laps around looking for a spot that a speed control camera pulled me over for suspicious Yankee behavior.

I finally found a place in front of a nice little restaurant called The General Ledger, where I had a delicious cheeseburger and two very delicious beers.

Fig. B: Look, a picture of someone’s food on the internet

While eating at the bar, it occurred to me that, although I’d seen rich sorts of people, hippie sorts of people and outdoorsy sorts of people, all of those sorts of people were also the white sort of people. So I opened up Wikipedia and, sure enough, Blue Ridge is 89% white. In fact, of the 1,253 people who live in Blue Ridge, nine (9) are Black. Then, right as I was digesting that information, I saw 11% of Blue Ridge’s Black population walk by the window. He looked like a nice guy.

The town has, however, become a welcoming location for the LGBTQ+ community. While not quite at Provincetown or Rehoboth Beach levels, Blue Ridge has more than a few rainbow flags flying, and has that relaxed feel of a place where people feel free to be themselves, which I love.

I lived in San Francisco during the late 80s, and one of my favorite aspects of The City were the many, many LGBTQ+ folks who moved there because they could not live their lives where they came from. The sense of liberation was palpable and joyous and gave the town a happy aura. It was awesome. Blue Ridge has some of that charm too.

My charming burger, fries and beer consumed, it was time to get back to it, and that time was getting short. It was past 1 p.m., the spot I’d reserved for camping, near Richland, Ga., was nearly 220 miles south, and the last thing I wanted was to set up my sleeping situation in the dark.


* Moment of Truthiness: I’m already back from my walkabout. In fact, it occurred LAST January about this time. I was going to post about it after the trip, but I sort of ran out of steam. So now I’m going to pretend I’m posting about my walkabout real-time, just like a reality show pretends to be reality.

Take the whole trip! I’ll even cover the gas!

TravelChuckBlue Ridge, Georgia, Charm4 Comments