We continued north from Fort Gaines until we hit Georgetown, then we headed northeast towards Providence Canyon State Park. The terrain began to change dramatically outside of Georgetown, and we have been walking up and down hills much larger than we have seen in a long time. Although carrying a fifty-five pound pack uphill for any length of time is usually uncomfortable, the hills provide views, and the views provide visual enjoyment.
Providence Canyon was a total surprise for us. They call it Georgia's "Little Grand Canyon," and it was beautiful. The park had an interpretive center where we learned how Providence Canyon was formed. The soil in this area is very soft and erosive clay. These canyon walls look like rock from a distance, but to the touch they feel like soft modeling clay. In the early 1800's, the settlers here began to clear away the trees to farm the land. I guess it seemed like a good idea at the time, until the land began to wash away. They said that by 1850, ditches three to five feet deep had been cut, and now the canyons are as deep as 150 feet. A park ranger told us to be careful around the edge of the canyon, because they continue to loose about three to five feet of land around the rim each year.
Providence Canyon
We walked into Lumpkin this afternoon. The weather continues to be very hot and humid, and our first stop in Lumpkin was at the first available convenience store for a 44 oz soda with plenty of ice. Soaked with sweat and very tired of being hot, I asked the clerk if there was a motel in Lumpkin. She said that there was and directed us to Michelle's Restaurant and Motel. I had become willing to pay about anything for a shower and air-conditioning, but was happy to find that we only had to fork out thirty bucks.
After a long shower and applying another thick coat of hydrocortisone to our poison ivy covered bodies, we set out to find a place called Westville. "Westville, where it's always 1850." We had seen the signs and read the brochures, now it was time to go see it for ourselves.
Westville is a "living history" village just outside of Lumpkin. The village never existed as an actual town, but it was created in the late 1960's by moving several buildings that were in existence before 1850 and laying them out based on Georgia towns of the period when Westville would have been founded, about 1830. We spent the rest of the afternoon walking around Westville and meeting the people who work there. Some of the highlights for us were listening to a fella play the banjo at the Westville schoolhouse, and meeting the local cobbler, the potter, and the basketmaker. We also enjoyed biscuits that were cooked with hot coals and gingerbread cooked in a wood stove. The blacksmith was out of town, but I'm sure that we would have met him, too, had he been around.
Having had our fill of Westville, we've returned to our thirty-dollar motel room for another shower (I'm determined to take at least three showers during our one-night stay) and a much-needed evening of air-conditioning and CNN. Actually, the CNN has been kind of depressing. My serenity level always stays much higher when I don't know what's going on in the world, but curiosity always gets the best of me when there is a television available. The air-conditioning has been grand, and I wish that we could somehow take it with us when we leave tomorrow.
The basketmaker at Westville
Thursday, April 18, 2002: Lumpkin, Georgia
We walked from Lumpkin to Richland today, which was only about nine miles on the back roads. It was a fairly uneventful walk on another hot and humid day. Some nice fellas at the local forestry department let us cool off at their water faucet and gave us excellent directions that allowed us to walk the last few miles to Richland on dirt roads through the woods. I really appreciated every single moment that I could be in the shade today. Brandi likes the heat, but it's killing me.
We were barely in Richland and walking up to Uncle Sam's Gas Station (the first convenience store we encountered for large drinks with ice), when a woman in a car pulled up and said, "You must be the people walking across America that my husband met yesterday at Westville." Her name is Nancy, and she is the potter's (Stephen's) wife. She is also the librarian in Richland. Nancy invited us to stay at their house in Lumpkin tonight and offered to bring us back to Richland in the morning. Done deal.
Stephen, the potter at Westville
Friday, April 19, 2002: Preston, GA
Nancy took us back to Richland this morning, where we began our walk from the Richland Public Library to the town of Preston, about nine miles away. We made it into Preston this afternoon and decided to sit out the hottest part of the day here in the Preston Public Library. It has been another hot day.
Diane, the librarian in Preston, has just done us an incredible favor that has set my mind at ease for the time being. We are now about nine miles from Plains, Georgia. Jimmy Carter still teaches a Sunday school class at Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains, and I had been a little concerned about how Brandi and I would be able to attend the class relatively clean and somewhat odor-free. It has been so hot. I asked Diane if there were any campgrounds or motels within walking distance to the church. She said there was not, but then picked up the phone and said, "Let me see what I can do." Yes! Diane had taken up our cause. She called a man named Boze, who is the mayor of Plains. He is also her friend and her pharmacist. Boze called back after about fifteen minutes and said that he knew someone who would rent us a room in Plains on Saturday night. All we have to do is walk to Plains and reach the pharmacy before it closes at 1:00 pm tomorrow.
Betty and Boze
Tuesday, April 23, 2002: Plains, Georgia
On Saturday, we walked past Jimmy Carter's boyhood home, past the "Carter compound" where he lives now, and shortly thereafter arrived in Plains very hot and drenched with sweat. It wasn't a problem finding the pharmacy. Plains is a very small town, and we only had a few buildings to choose from. Inside the pharmacy, a man named Boze told us that the room we had wanted to rent had been rented to someone else. My stomach never even had time to sink, because he immediately followed with, "But you're welcome to stay with us." His son, Earl, took us on over to the house (it was only a short walk away,) and we waited for Boze's wife, Betty, to come home. God was not only giving us the opportunity to bathe before church on Sunday, He had us staying at the mayor's house.
Shortly after meeting Betty, I realized that we were about to have a busy day. Boze and Betty were going to a wedding that afternoon and out to dinner at the Windsor Hotel in Americus that evening, and having been promptly adopted into their family, Brandi and I were invited to join them for any or all of it. We decided to join them for all of it. Fortunately we were able to bathe as well as borrow some more appropriate clothing for a schedule such as that.
The wedding went fine, and the dinner at the Windsor was fantastic. The owner of the hotel and some of his friends put on a dinner of authentic Indian cuisine once a year for their friends. The food was delicious, and some of it was quite spicy. We loved it. I loved it a little too much, and later paid for it in the wee hours of the morning.
Boze and Betty introduced us to Jimmy Carter at the dinner that night, and he welcomed us to Plains. I didn't know what else to say except, "Thank you. It's very nice to meet you." You think you're perfectly ready to meet a guy like Jimmy Carter until he's standing there in front of you, smiling with that famous Jimmy Carter smile, and shaking your hand. All I could think was, "Wow, I'm standing here shaking Jimmy Carter's hand" while my lips moved and I think I said, "Thank you. It's very nice to meet you," but it could have been anything, I guess. I felt kind of stupid, really.
Sunday morning we went to church at Maranatha Baptist. When we arrived at church, I could see the tour busses and loads of cars in the parking lot. Maranatha Baptist is a fairly small church. They have less than a hundred church members, but about ten thousand visitors attend church with them every year.
Jimmy taught from the book of Romans, focusing on the dramatic transition between chapters seven and eight. "Therefore there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." The glorious declaration of God's mercy, and His gift of a Savior through Jesus Christ. Thank you, Lord! I completely agreed with everyone who had told me that President Carter was an excellent Bible teacher, and I was elated because ten thousand visitors each year were being taught from the Word of God.
During the church service, we sat directly in back of Jimmy and Roselyn, and directly next to a secret service agent named Todd. I tried not to make any sudden movements that would make Todd nervous. I always reached for the hymnal in front of me very slowly and deliberately.
With Jimmy Carter after church at Maranatha Baptist
After church, I watched in amazement as Jimmy took about an hour of his time on Sunday afternoon to pose for countless pictures with anyone and everyone who wanted him to. There were approximately 400 visitors in church on Sunday, and as I watched him tirelessly smile for picture after picture, I began to realize just how gracious this man truly is. He doesn't have to do that, and it really affected me because I don't know if I would be selfless enough to continue to do that every Sunday. So, my narrow view of those who seek politics as a career had to open up quite a bit this Sunday. It really needed to.
I have been blown away several times (in my four days as a Plains resident) at how accessible Jimmy Carter is to the people here. I have seen him every day that I've been here. Just today, I was out on a bike ride in Plains, and there he was riding his bicycle through town, secret service agent peddling behind. I would think that most former presidents of the United States would "stay in" more than that. But like they say in the Jimmy Carter National Historic Site brochure, "Few U.S. Presidents have had such close ties with where they were born and raised." After the presidency, Jimmy and Roselyn returned to the home that they built in 1960, and the spend most of their time right here in Plains.
Downtown Plains. The sign reads, "Plains, Georgia.
Home of Jimmy Carter, Our 39th President."
Brandi and I have had the opportunity to be tourists for a few days, and we've explored most of the territory around here on bicycles. We went inside the Plains Depot today. It has been restored as it was in the seventies, when it was used as Jimmy Carter's presidential campaign headquarters. The depot is filled with campaign posters, bumper stickers, newspaper clippings, and all kinds of Jimmy Carter memorabilia. There are also a few video presentations that include old film footage of debates, ads, and news interviews during his campaign. Watching stories about "the Peanut Brigade" and how the press swarmed into this little town during his campaign took me back to 1976. I was in third grade and watching it all on television. A peanut farmer from Plains, Georgia was running for president-- remarkable.
We continued north from Fort Gaines until we hit Georgetown, then we headed northeast towards Providence Canyon State Park. The terrain began to change dramatically outside of Georgetown, and we have been walking up and down hills much larger than we have seen in a long time. Although carrying a fifty-five pound pack uphill for any length of time is usually uncomfortable, the hills provide views, and the views provide visual enjoyment.
