Mountains and Mud

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The only greenery in the Georgia woods in winter – the snarl at the top of Hall Creek Falls…


I think I talk about hiking  a lot.  It’s one of the things I love to do and it makes sense to talk about it on a sobriety blog because it is rather hard to drink and hike. I’ve done it, but it’s dangerous.

I hike outside my cabin on leaf choked logging roads where there are no trail markers.  The woods around my house are like a stage set façade – so sodden and moss covered, none of the trees seem to be alive. When Jon Jon and Kallie were here for the holidays, we made it to the very top of the mountain above a raging waterfall. The trek requires leaving the hint of a trail and crawling through brambles and low brush and sharp rocks up a 70 degree incline.

It’s kind of like a climbing wall. Except the hand and foot holds (sturdy looking trees and bushes) snap off in your hands randomly. Neighbor Bob cautions, “Don’t be sittin’ on those rotted logs in the summertime – rattlers…”

And this is bear poop.



And that’s Georgia mud on my J Crew leggings. But I’m smiling…



And it’s a bright, shiny new year.  A time for challenge and success. It’s going to be a good year, my friends. I can feel it in the wind. Thanks for your support (and Jon Jon thanks for carrying the backpack with the water and the oranges and the extra coats and the gloves and the map and the cell phones and the rain gear and the gun…).


Today I’m not drinking, because it’s a shiny new year.

How come you’re not drinking?