Coming out of the woods, we have a road walk of several miles. It’s starting to get dark, but still some light left.
Every yard has a dog that is very intent on guarding its territory. My method of handling the situation is to continue to walk at a steady pace, unless they get within 3 feet.
At 6 feet, they are plenty aggressive, but maintaining the distance. They are making it known that they own this place, and I’m fine with it.
At the intersection, I arrive at Capertons. In the words of someone at the Pinhoti Trail association : the owners are…a little different.
Time to stop in.
An older woman is sitting with her dog by the wood stove, with a blanket over her lap and an empty chair beside her.
Who are you waiting for?
Oh, people stop by all the time. Are you a hiker?
Yep.
Thru or section.
Thru.
Wayell. Have a seat. It’s not that warm, but it’s warmer than outside.
I sit down, and forget to take my pack off. This is how to know you’ve done your job packing light.
The walls are lined with guns of all sorts, as well as Cherokee memorabilia and rebel flags.
Do you actually sell guns here, or are they just for show.
Oh yeah - that’s our main business.
People hear about us from all over - I don’t know how, but they do. A fella dropped by from Italy the other day; he heard about this place and said he had to stop by.
If I had a nickel for everyone who drove by and took a photo of our sign…
You should charge people for it.
Oh no, it’s fine.
The conversation wanders, and she points down at the floor and points out the marble, which I had assumed was wood up until this point.
Looking directly at it, however, it’s clearly white speckled marble. Apparently Sylacauga marble is shipped all over the world, and still mined, despite being a mined product since the late 1800s.
It’s time to go.
It’s dark now, but I have to get back to the woods in order to camp, and it’s several miles up the road. It’s back country road, so there’s no lights whatsoever.
A black SUV slowly roles by, and the window goes down.
You all right?
Yep. I’m good.
Alright.
Once I enter the woods, it’s pitch black. There’s just enough tree cover to not let any light in.
2 miles in, far from any roads or trucks, I make camp. I’m still enamored at how I don’t have any fear whatsoever, and how different that is from my time on the Arizona Trail.
I wanted to make it farther tonight, but I’ve lost the blazes - I can’t find where the trail goes, and without that, I’m just wandering aimlessly in the forest.
I tried anyway, and ended up on a steep hillside, and almost tumbled down into rocks.
Wellst.
It’s pitch black, and I can hear rustling not too far away.
Go to bed squirrel.
I do the same.