Rain is falling, hard, when I wake up. It is still mostly dark outside and I have created a me-shaped indentation in the mattress that is equal parts too squishy and too comfy so I close my eyes and doze. Obi is beside me when I wake up. It’s still raining but there is a hint of light in the sky that could be mistaken for the sun. I run with the assumption it is going to clear up and start the day, getting dressed for the stereotypical Georgia cool mornings and humid, sweaty afternoons.


A plate with a muffin and a glass of orange juice sits on a small round table beside a black rocking chair on a wooden porch, with leafy
A brown, shaggy dog stands indoors by a wooden door, looking outside toward a grassy area and a blue building. Its back is to the camera

 

I head out to the screened porch of the cabin I’m currently staying at, a quaint little historic fishing cabin from the 1930s. The property has two others and several different tiny cabins that can be rented for an “outdoor but with comfort” experience. There is a restaurant on site, directly across from my cabin, and the string lights still twinkle in the rain. The angle of the roof funnels the rain in little falls, almost like my own little waterfall nook. But, I can’t stay here all day, even though the thought has crossed my mind. I’ve got places to see.


I manhandle a stubborn and spoiled Obi into the rain in an attempt to get him to use the potty before getting in the car. Spiteful, he resists, and instead stares at me in contempt. Sighing in defeat, I open the car door and he jumps in, circles three times, and lays down. I grab a rain jacket and my camera and head out.

 

The rain slacks off, falling in the consistency that is annoyingly too slow for the windshield wipers and too fast for none. I drive the curving road that winds west from the cabin passing almost no one. I pass a sign. Not one to really read road signs very often (except the ones for safety… of course!), I only get a glimpse of “...best biscuits…” Hmmm, maybe I’ll put it to the test. I pull into a parking space, pat Obi, and head up to the “Georgia-esque” porch complete with rocking chairs and old knick-knacks. Hint: this is something I love and will be a theme throughout the day. Already impressed with the ambiance, I take a seat and order a bacon and egg biscuit - simple, classic and a good way to test their claim. It arrives quickly and I devour it. Pretty tasty, but not sure it is the best and even if it was I couldn’t say this publicly (Hi all the cooks in my family).


A few minutes down the road is my first scheduled destination, the old Stovall mill covered bridge. It’s worth a quick stop. Make sure to walk to the gate leading into a pasture at the north side of the site - it has an amazing view!


Three wooden rocking chairs sit on a covered porch with wooden railings, overlooking a tree-lined road. The scene is peaceful
A small dog walks toward a rustic wooden covered bridge surrounded by lush green trees and grass on a cloudy day.
Clusters of small, dark purple berries hang from thin yellowish branches, surrounded by blurred green foliage in the background.
A dirt path bordered by wildflowers and grass leads to an open, grassy field under a cloudy sky, with trees lining the background
A small, fast-flowing creek runs through a lush green forest, with trees and shrubs lining the banks and rocks visible in the water
Two old-timey rocking chairs rest against a log building with a classic checker game between them inspiring nostalgia

I drive away and only make it a few miles before another old-timey porch beckons me to stop. Good naturedly, due to the bacon piece I paid him, Obi sits still in his seat as I get out again. The store (?) museum (?) looks exactly like an old general store you would tie a horse out front of and mosey into to buy a can of beans back in the 1800s. For my video-game folks out there, it is an exact replica of the general store in RDR2. Criscoe, china, old leather bits and bobs, and bear skins are on display. Through a side door, a more modern gift store appears with candies, canned goods, soaps, clothing, and local books. I spot a leather cowboy hat. That is coming home with me.


Colorful candies sit in baskets in a store with an old western nostalgic ambiance
Shelves filled with vintage, nostalgic, grocery items and tins, including old soap boxes, spice containers, and glass jars
Western flannels shirts are photographed against a retro authentic sign
A sign displaying the name of a local cafe with greenery falling into it from the roof and an open sign lit up beside it.

I continue along. The rain has stopped but the sun isn’t quite caught up. The country is a mix of rolling hills, forest, and thick banks of fog. Several hundred dairy cows graze in a pasture but unfortunately there isn’t a good spot to stop and I pass up the opportunity to take a few pictures of one of my favorite subjects. I turn off at the sign for “Hardman Farm Historic Site” not sure what to expect. I generally don’t gravitate towards historic sites as much as wildernessy, remote, completely-desolate areas. I snap Obi to his leash and he attempts to yank my arm off. Failed, again. We stroll towards the visitor center, where you need to check in and pay admission. I chain Obi to a pole outside and blunder into the middle of a on-going tour within. Apologies made, and admission paid, Obi and I navigate through the gate and into a beautiful scene of sunflowers, old hickory nut trees, and sunlight.


Strolling from building to building, we take our time and appreciate the day that turned from rain to sun. If you visit Hardman Farm, slow down and explore around each tree. There are so many beautiful spots. Mixing rustic farmhouse style and beautiful rural scenery is always one of my favorite settings. I also love history so it was very interesting to stop and read some of the information signs - there are some really funny pictures and stories too! My stomach complains and I acknowledge it but tell it to wait. It waits, then complains more strongly. I acquiesce and drive down the road right through the town of Helen (it is neat…but…lots of people) and pull into a roadside burger joint, Hoochee’s River Basket. I’ve been here twice and it is amazing. Generous amounts of beef and cheese, dripping and smothered with whichever unique toppings you choose. Already familiar with the classic, I go for something more extreme (and quite a bit more expensive), the whiskey burger. Really, really good but I’ll go for the classic next time.


An old italian mansion sits grandly centered in the photo. The photo radiates grandeur and southern hospitality and local culture.
A rustic wooden barn with weathered boards stands in a grassy field, partially framed by trees and a puddle reflection
A view into a horse barn with lights on and wooden chairs lining the aisle. Bales of straw sit randomly.
A green and red wagon is partially shown in a barn with a window behind.
A juicy burger dripping with cheese and sauce is shown with fries
A restaurant sign is shown in a retro style with green vegetation around. An example of restaurant photography candid-style.

Driving back towards my cabin at Bleu Canoe, I see a sleek black ball run across the road about a quarter mile in front of me. The bear is too quick for me to snap a picture but he still lifts my spirits. I haven’t seen many bears in this area recently. I pass Anna Ruby Falls, tempting, but so is my screen porch. The lazy side of me wins.


Locations Mentioned:


Bleu Canoe Restaurant and Tiny Cabins

Batesville General Restaurant

Old Stovall Mill Covered Bridge

Old Sautee Store

Hardman Farm Historic Site

Hoochee’s River Basket