Day 44 - Atlanta and Stone Mountain, Georgia (Addendum)

Some interesting things happened today that I thought I'd relate after we visited the Jimmy Carter Museum and gardens. First of all, we were just finishing up our stroll around the grounds when two women approached us about taking their photograph with a cell phone belonging to one of them. This I did with some coaxing on their part, since I never seem to get the darn process just right. Plus it always feels wrong to me to be talking photos with something that looks and feels like a poptart. After I succeeded in taking their photo I naturally asked if they'd like to return the favor, which is why we ended up having a nice shot of us in the garden to post on Facebook (and below left).

After our photo session we naturally fell into a discussion of where we were from, how awful the weather has been in the country this spring for folks in the north, how nice it is to live in Atlanta, how the traffic is simply terrible from 6:00 a.m. to 10:00 a.m., and any time after 3:00 p.m., and so fourth. I didn't have the courage to bring up the thing I had been wondering, which was how Atlantians could be on the highways during those hours of the day and have any time left to get any work done during the day? Oh, well, maybe someone will eventually clue me.

Retreating back to the truck, we had only just unlocked the door when an older gentleman appeared at my elbow.

"This your rig?" he asked.

"Ah, yes," I said, turning to face him. I expected that he was part of the grounds-keeping workforce and was going to ask me why I didn't park it in the official RV parking lot. Or, I did until I saw the leashed dog that was accompanying him.

"I was just wondering," he said, "if you like it."

I pondered this for a moment trying to figure what his angle was.

But then he continued. "I was thinking I'd like to buy one. Do you like it?"

"Oh," I said. "I just love it."

"I noticed that you're from Nevada," he said. "You drive this all the way here?"

"Yup," I said. "Truck runs like a sewing machine. We haven't had a bit of trouble. I went on to explain to him how we had bought the rig on Craig's List to see if we'd like RVing around the country. "Turns out we like it a lot," I told him. "When we get home we're going to put it back on Craig's List and buy ourselves a newer rig for our next on-the-road adventure."

My new friend perked up at that point. "You're going to sell it?" he asked, sounding very interested. "How many miles does it have on it?"

"About 47,000 now," I told him. "Probably 5,000 more before we get home."

"Hmm," he said. He looked more closely now, eying the rig from front to back. He pointed to the cab over portion. "That have a bed in it?" He asked.

"Yes," I said. "The cab-over has a double bed. The rear has a double bed. And both the banquet and the couch make into beds."

"Sounds like it would be great for grandkids," he said, smiling.

"You bet," I told him. I think it would work great for grandkids and we'll probably be taking ours out with us someday.

He asked then if the air conditioner worked and I told him that the air conditioner, the heater, the generator, the water heater, and everything else on the rig worked just fine. "Nothing wrong with the truck at all," I said. "And 47,000 miles on a ford truck is barely broken in."

"I'm interested," he said.

"What?" I said.

"I want to buy it," he said. "Not now. When you get home....before you put it on Craig's list. How much do you think you'd want?"

"Well," I said. "I'd probably start at $10,000 and work down from there."

"Okay," he said. "Let me give you my name and number. I'd like you to let me know before you sell it to anyone else."

"Ah, okay," I said. "I can do that." I called into to Concetta to get a pad of paper for me.

After that the chap, whose name turned out to be David, wrote down and information and we went on to explore our mutual history. He grew up in, of all places, North Hollywood. I was right next door in Pasadena. We both had dabbled in the movie business. We both had dabbled in boats. It was almost eerie. It was like I'd known him all my life we got along so well.

Do I think he'll really follow through and come all the way out from Atlanta and buy our rig? Well, stranger things have happened I guess. But whether he does or doesn't, I enjoyed the heck out of our conversation. In fact it was the high point of my day. I've never been one for shaggy dog stories, but the pit bull he had on the leash was a foundling that he walks every day by the Carter Center. I guess if he'd had no dog, we'd never have met. Something to think about for sure.

But that's not the end of our adventures for today. After we left the Carter Center and our friend with the Pit Bull, we had to find our way back out of central Atlanta and retrace our steps to the Stone Mountain RV park. This proved as uneventful and easy as the morning trip proved harrowing and tedious. All the traffic was gone from our route, probably because the Atlantians had arrived at work around 10:00 a.m. and weren't due to get off until 3:00 p.m.

At any rate, we breezed back up Highway 98 and almost before we knew it we were back at Stone Mountain. This time we didn't want to go right back to camp, but we wanted to visit a couple of points of interest in the area, the first being the Confederate Museum.

Now if you're like me, when someone says Confederate Museum you get all excited and start visualizing butternut uniforms, Enfield rifles, and the like. The museum was even housed in a structure which looked very much like a southern plantation.

Well, to our surprise there were no Confederates in the Confederate Museum, well, other than the ones found in the twenty-minute video about the fall of Atlanta to General Sherman in 1864. No, for the most part the museum was concerned primarily with the construction of the Stone Mountain carvings of Jefferson Davis, General Lee, and Stonewall Jackson (see model at left). In addition, the museum offered a truly marvelous exhibit on the geological history of Stone Mountain, as well as on the Natural History of the area.

Now we're not complaining necessarily, because we liked the museum just as it was. We would have liked coming face to face with a Confederate or two, but maybe next time. And once we exited the Museum we walked a ways up the back side of Stone Mountain to get the feel of it and took some photos of lichen and stuff along the way.

But that wasn't the end of our adventures, either. No, the other place we wanted to see, that happened to be located a short distance from the Confederate Museum, was the working plantation farm. This sounded really interesting and since the sunlight was so wonderful this afternoon, we decided to give it a shot.

Unfortunately, once we arrived at the plantation we discovered that there was but an hour to go before closing. Standing in front of the ticket clerk I tried to decide just what to do. I didn't want us to have to pay the $10.00 fee for just an hour. On the other hand, I didn't want to waste what looked like some truly wonderful-looking afternoon light that was just begging me to come out and do some shooting.

Remembering that if you don't ask, you don't get, I said to the ticket clerk, "I don't suppose you'd let us buy tickets for tomorrow, but let us do just a bit of shooting here today before you close?"

She eyed me for a moment, I'm sure trying to decide what sort of con I was trying to run on her. But finally she seemed to come to a decision and said, "Okay, I can let you do that."

"I be happy to purchase tomorrow's ticket now," I said.

"Not necessary," she said. "I'll be here tomorrow when you come back."

And so Concetta and I spent one of the most enjoyable hours of this vacation, just wandering the grounds, talking with one of the docent gardeners, and snapping photos that I knew we wouldn't be able to get the next day with sun in the opposite portion of the sky. The light was so incredible and soft that I nearly ran from building to building to make sure I didn't miss a single one. Concetta, for her part, had time to read the placards with all the historic information, and learn all about 19th century gardening from the docent. To say it was just perfect would not do it justice.

And the best part of the story is that we're going back tomorrow for more photos, a more thorough study of the history of the place, and, if we're lucky, to score some more of the delicious jam that we bought on a whim and had as part of our dinner tonight.

So that's the rest of today's story. The Jimmy Carter Center was magnificent, and the rest of the day was so darn good that we could hardly believe it.

Stay tuned, we're headed for Charleston tomorrow. It's going to take two days to get there, but who cares? I'm sure we'll discover a few good reasons to take our time.

Ciao!