Changes, turn and face the change…
15 years ago our family realized we’d never been “real” camping…pitching the tent in the yard doesn’t count…even if you live on five wooded acres with a lake.
So, it was determined camping would be our family vacation. My single mother picked Ft. Mountain, GA as our destination, because in the state park brochure it looked nice.
We didn’t take into account that we are wimps when it comes to mountains…
Picture the four of us: my mom, my uncle, me, and my little brother, snaking up hairpin turns, climbing ever higher, as the sky darkened, and the wind picked up. To entertain ourselves, my brother and I started “pretend crying,” only to be told to shut up cause my mom really wanted to cry but she had to drive.
Once on top of the mountain, the storm passed, and camping was successful. But my mom, fearing heights, swore we’d never go to the mountains again.
Flash forward 15 years later. My husband is mountain crazy. I swear the man is part jumping goat. On previous adventures he’s taken us: 5945′. Fort Mountain, GA is only 2,851′. So, in hindsight, we had nothing to fear but taller mountains.
Because the memory was such a large part of my teenage summer, and I compare all mountains to this first mountain, I wanted to take my 30 year old self back. Thus, when my husband got the call 5/28/16 that he didn’t have to work Memorial Day, a plan was hatched.
Overall, the park is much how we left it. In my photo album, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve looked at the pictures of large rocks and trees I found interesting, only to see them again, like silent old friends. It’s the little things that amaze you.
The overlook is a lot nicer. Maybe things do improve with age.