Grit n Cinders 160: A North Georgia Gem

Well, here we go. This is my first ever ride recap, and I hate writing, so bear with me. But, oddly, I've been kind of excited about this. And let me tell you, I LOVE pictures and I take a lot, so my write-ups will be chock-full of them.

So, just a very brief bit about myself: I'm a mid-thirties Emergency Medicine Physician Assistant who has a lovely fiance, Melissa, who I get to marry in just about two weeks! I started cycling about 5 years ago after grad school. It has quickly evolved in to a love of the outdoors, camping, adventure, and supported or unsupported endurance events and #doinghardthings.

First off, I must thank Chris Gray/Corvus Racing for giving me the opportunity to come down and check out this part of Georgia and also for all his hard work in scouting and putting this route (as well as others) together for the enjoyment of the biking community. This was possibly the best two days I've had on a bike.

This ride came together because I was off for a week to partake in the Marji Gesick 100 in Michigan but, unfortunately, life happened and a few local'ish friends had to bail and I really didn't feel like making that 15 hour drive by myself. With the sweltering summer heat dragging on, I kept an eye on the forecast and noticed an upcoming change in the weather. The beginning of the week: highs in the mid 90's with high humidity. The end of the week: lows in the 50's and highs in the mid 70's. Melissa was leaving for her bachelorette party on the morning of Thursday 9/19; I remembered talking to Chris about his new route (that will be a race next spring) and figured this was the PERFECT opportunity to head on down and get away for a couple of days.

As you all will quickly learn, planning is not one of my stronger points. I tend to wait until the last minute and just go; and it almost always works out, so leave your judgments elsewhere! Melissa had a flight at 5:30am out of Chattanooga and wanted to leave at 4:00am. I tried to tell her she needed to be there at about 5:10 for a 5:30 flight but, planners, ugh. She worked until 1:00am. I worked until 9:00pm that night. What's that mean? That means I chose to not pack anything at all until I got home from work about 10:00pm; I piddled around the garage, loading my bike, checking things off my non-existent check list, remembering things, like a toothbrush, one at a time. I wrapped up around midnight. I laid down around midnight-30. Melissa came in at 1:30am. Sweet, I got an hour of sleep. There was no more sleep with her fumbling around the house trying to make last minute bachelorette party preparations and me excited about the first taste of fall weather and a bike.

Bike loaded. Bachelorette loaded. Dog things packed for dad to come get him later in the day. Off to the airport, hug/kiss bye, on the road to Ellijay, GA at 430ish. Stop for waffle house fuel at the Rocky Face exit. Gas station for a random assortment of wrapper foods to fuel me to my first resupply. Shit, just realized how much I've written without talking about the bike ride. Oops.

I found a random gravel lot in Ellijay that was where the route showed it’s starting point. It just looked like a lot that 18 wheelers use to park and sleep or wait for freight. I figured the car would be fine there for a couple of days. I started to get the pre-ride jitters that come along with the unknown, and I loved it. It was 6:15am and I set off into the dark, ready for an amazing day on the bike. Also, I HAD ARM WARMERS ON!!

The route started unassumingly down a small two lane road rolling North out of Ellijay. Luckily, I was going away from town, which was opposite a steady stream of cars flowing into town to start their work day. Suckerssss! It wasn't long before my first turn came and the route abruptly pitched up, away from the morning traffic, and towards the sky. I was rewarded with a very early silhouette of some trees and light skies behind them. There was a light breeze. This made me smile. And take like 15 pics.

Early morning view from the top of Old Flat Branch Road. Ellijay, Georgia

The next two to three hours were just incredible. A mix of quiet country back roads and intermittent gravel roads meandering between dew-covered fields full of livestock, turkeys, deer, goats, etc. At one point, just as it was getting light, I noticed something shoot up a steep bank into the woods. It scared me a little, but then I laughed, realizing it was just a deer. But, as I pedaled closer, I realized it wasn't just the one; there were about 3 more on the right side of the road, and another 3 on the left side of the road. It was like a deer-gang; I imagined them with cigars in their mouths, Italian accents, freshly pressed three-piece deer suits, and Tommy guns. They were looking at me, taking steps towards me rather than away, as if trying to intimidate me into leaving their domain. I just smiled and pedaled past under the pink sky.

As the morning sun began to illuminate my surroundings, I started to realize that some of this was familiar. I had been here before. It was earlier this spring during Chris' other ride, the Tour De Liverance (TDL), which was a 107 mile mixed surface event. I was enjoying the mix of familiarity and the unknown. I realized I was on a gravel road that leads to Wolf Pen Gap (not the wolf pen gap paved climb that is in TNGA). I liked this road. It was a beautiful quaint gravel road with a few small farm houses and cabins tucked away into the countryside but quickly turned into a jeep road with large mud holes and a little bit of chunder to mix things up a bit. I also made some goat friends, which was one of the many highlights of this adventure. 

Now I was back on pavement and found myself in a familiar area, where Kate and Andrew Gates and the fantastic Mulberry Gap Mountain Bike Getaway crew call home. I was on Gates Chapel Road headed right towards Mulberry Gap. The scenery this time of morning was absolutely stunning. Although, I kind of felt like I was going nowhere because I was stopping to take a picture every 3 minutes. And then I realized, that's fine, because I have nowhere to be other than here. I came to the end of Shake Rag Road at Conasauga Road; Mulberry and Pinhoti 2 were just to my right, but the route went left. I considered heading over to Mulberry for some breakfast and face time (literal) with friends but decided I better continue on route; I was only 20 miles in with 85 miles to get to my campsite. 

I soon hit my first resupply which was TimBukTu Gas Station around 36 miles in, which was considered Southwest Ellijay, I guess. I used the facilities. I bought a Mountain Dew, some fig bars, and who knows what else. When I'm in no hurry, I love to sit against the wall outside a gas station in a small town and eat and drink and people watch and play on my phone, updating friends on group messages with a vast influx of pictures of my adventures, which I'm sure they get tired of but, oh well, ya get what ya get 😎 (yes, I know that was a long sentence that was grammatically incorrect, Will Boulware) 

From the gas station, I knew this part of the route from the aforementioned TDL ride. It turned off the main road and went up through a small neighborhood which had a paved climb that will leave you looking for more gears. I was sporting a 30x10-50 and yes, I was still pushing the shifter to no avail. But it's short. Hit the top, nice gusty breeze, rolling back roads, not a cloud in the sky, and no cars on the road. I was in my happy place. 

The next section, which I was well aware of, was probably one of my favorite sections on route. It's a long flat or even false flat gravel road with negative grade through an expansive valley of pastures and a limestone mine (I think). In the beginning, everything was grayish white, as if covered by a dusting of snow. But that was just layers of dust strewn about by the barreling semi-trucks full of limestone. Past the entrance to the mine, the trucks were left behind and it opened into rolling farmland and a small creek that wandered next to the road. Beauty everywhere I looked. This section was fast. But, of course, I continuously interrupted my flow to capture the scenery with picture after picture. 

After a sustained gravel climb out of this valley, my thoughts were on my next "resupply" which was the Chateau Meichtry Family Vineyard and Winery. I think I had underestimated what this place would be like. I topped a hill and, holy crap, this place was majestic! The Blue Ridge mountains were the backdrop for this mountain stone house and vineyard nestled atop a hill in the middle of nowhere. I passed some groundskeepers (which ended up being the owner) and nodded on my way through the parking lot. There were two cars there, which was to be expected on Thursday afternoon, I suppose. I gathered my things, took some things off, and inside I went.

They were delighted to see me and very friendly and welcoming. The owner approached me and introduced himself immediately (not as the owner, I asked). I complimented his place and admired the intricacies of the rustic decor. I also realized I was very out of place in my spandex with dust covered legs. However, they made me feel at home, in my place. I was happy. 

"What type of wine do you like?", the lady behind the bar asked. What? The kind with alcohol in it, I don't know. They laughed. I knew I didn't really like bitter, so I went with a white wine. I opted for something sweet because, carbs. I sat on the covered patio that was open to the outdoors. There was a swift breeze blowing as I sipped my wine with my pinkie out. I chatted with a tourist family from Florida. I gazed at the rolling foothills in the distance. I tried to take the stick from Shooter Ray (their black lab). I just smiled at the enjoyment of where I was. Then I realized I still had a blackberry wine slushy that I had already paid for and needed to pick up and drink. I finished it off and gave Shooter Ray my farewell and got back on the road. Forty miles or so to Mexican food!!!

Leaving the winery, my next stop was a resupply at mile 75, which was only about 20 miles from there. It was a dollar general that was off route maybe a half mile or so. I made my way through the back roads of North Georgia. This section was mostly pavement, if I remember correctly. Some of the roads were now a little busier as it was mid afternoon, getting close to rush hour. But, it was still not "busy" like in a larger city. As I continued my forward progress, a thought entered my mind: "How in the hell has Chris created a route, in North Georgia, without ANY dogs to chase me?!" I hadn't encountered any dogs at all, up to that point.

Well, I'm sure you can guess what happened about 8 minutes later. A very deep, loud "WOOF!!" came from my left. I looked quickly to see a massive dirty white Great Pyrenees charging at me. He also had a little sidekick sprinting and yapping next to him (or her? I'm not sexist). Now, some people loath dogs when on a bicycle because they chase and are sometimes aggressive. I, on the other hand, love to see dogs when I'm on a bike. I simply stop, get off my bike, squat to the ground, hold a hand out, and try to coax them over to me. If the dog happens to be aggressive, I have my bike to keep between myself and them, and, in my mind, nothing bad can happen. What happens if there is more than one aggressive dog, you ask? Well, I guess I get bitten in the ass, I don't know! Any who, the smaller dog was very friendly and so excited for me to pet her that she left a lovely trail of urine all the way across the gravel road while squatted close to the ground, army crawling towards me. It warmed my heart. The Pyrenees? He or she kept her distance and just watched while his or her sidekick tried to jump on the bike with me. If you look to the far right, you can see a bit of the pee pee in the road.

After this amazing encounter, I was near my dollar general resupply. I hit an intersection at mile 73 on my garmin, and hung a left to stay on route, knowing my resupply is to the right at mile 75. I bombed down a paved road for at least a mile and started climbing. I passed a fire hall. I came to another left turn around mile 75, but there was no right turn to take me to the DG. I checked google maps to see where the store was in relation to me. Shit. It was to the right at the last intersection. My mileage had gotten off a little bit just due to satellite error I guess. I wasn't about to backtrack for two miles just to go off route another half mile each way; it was maybe 5pm and the roads are exposed and even though the temperature is only about 78, I was a little warm.  I had enough food and so I just went back to the fire hall to fill up with water. Forward progress continued. Twenty miles to Mexican food! 

From here, it was still an even mixture of road and gravel. More sweet countryside sprinkled with some slums and farms. A notable memory was Pulltight Road which started from GA-53, around mile 80, near Marble Hill Composites. It was just a very steep paved road that went up, without switchbacks, between a few shanties which were a little sketchy. I like things like this to keep it interesting. Remember earlier when I was searching for more gears? Yea that happened again but this one was steep enough to remove me from my bike and make me push! I smiled and laughed at the thought of Chris finding this hill and deviously incorporating it into the route. 

I stopped at an intersection to check google maps again to see where the Mexican restaurant was in relation to my current location. I heard, "Hey! You wanna race!?". Behind me to my left, two elementary-age boys playing catch in their front yard. One had halted their game to jump on his bicycle, which had shrouds and fenders to resemble a modern day dirt bike, to pretend-rev his engine at me and call me out. I chuckled and told him that there was a good chance that he would beat me in my calorie-deprived state and that I needed to get on down the road to the Mexican place which, by the way, WAS ONLY 1.2 MILES AWAY!! I was really happy. And hungry. 

I arrived at the holy land, which consisted of an IGA, the aforementioned Mexican restaurant, a pizza place, an Italian place, and several small shops. I ordered a beer, a coke, some enchiladas, a few bean and cheese burritos wrapped in aluminum foil to go, and then hit the IGA for additional items. My next resupply wasn't for over 50 miles, and that is after being stopped all night. So, one could figure, about another 14-16 hours total, which includes a leisurely pace and an 8 hour stop overnight. 

Frame bag burritos, for the win.

After my stop, I had a full belly, full bike, and a short 7-8 mile slog to get to my campsite, which was at the Lindsey Ford Amicalola River Access area. I passed the Big Canoe resort area. I made eye contact with a buck who was just standing on the side of a busy highway, staring at me. I was kind of racing the sun as I wanted to set up camp before dark but had taken my time throughout the day so I was a little behind. Behind what? Schedule? Never mind, I had no schedule and was just happy to be out here. I was on Amicalola Church Road, which was the road my campsite was on and it's downhill! Sweet! Wrong. Chris strategically found a gravel road to the right, which climbed to the top of a steep hill, ran along a ridge (which was beautiful at sunset) and then descended right back down to the road I was just on. Genius, Chris 😉

This is where it got a bit weird. I arrived at the campsite, which I had imagined to be bustling for some odd reason, around 8pm. It had just gotten dark. It was off of a gravel road with no traffic, as opposed to a busy paved road. Immediately, there was a split. I felt the signs didn't offer much info, but maybe I was just tired and it was dark? I chose to go to the right. I'd been having this thought, throughout the day, in the back of my head, about bears and food. I didn't have a bear canister or twine to string my food up high over a branch. (This reminded my of Grace Ragland, in her book called Divide By One, where she was trying to hang her food during the Great Divide Mountain Bike Race and tossed the rock and string over a branch and it came back and hit her upside the head. Luckily she was wearing her helmet. I laughed out loud.) I began looking for someone to ask. I immediately saw a truck and a fire and a glimpse of a human (I hoped). I stopped and politely called out and a lady began talking to me. I suppose she was a bit curious about me rolling it at dark with a spot light on my head, burning her retinas. I turned it off. She immediately asked me if I was a serial killer. No, not yet. Jk, no. I'm a bike rider and adventurist. 

I'm going to try to keep this short but here's how it went. She told me that her battery was dead and she needed boost. She was looking at me, asking me for a boost. I educated her about my travels and that I, in fact, did not have a battery in my frame bag. I was sorry. I proceeded to ask about bears and food storage. She told me that, yes, there were bears and she'd been watching two of them walk around the campsite; one was 400lbs and one was 600lbs. In hindsight, I am pretty sure black bears aren't that big. She told me that there was no one else in the camp and that I was welcome to camp there. She also let me store my delicious frame bag burritos in her dead truck. Score. 

I started to set up my bivy and things. (Bivy, pad, bag liner is what I used, if you're wondering) We made small talk as I was setting up. (By small talk, I mean she kind of mumbled and talked to herself  and me while I was unable to hear anything she said due to the creek and blowing up my sleeping pad). She was inquisitive, likely in an attempt to reassure herself that I was not going to scalp her in the middle of the night. She told me I probably shouldn't put my bivy there, as that was the path the bear usually took through camp. What? This was odd. I decided to take my chances. In addition to this, I saw a small bright light very briefly, three or four times, through the woods across the creek from us. I asked about this. She said nothing was over there other than maybe a plot of land. I just stop looking in that general direction all together 😣😱

I heard a vehicle coming, or so I thought. "Here comes a vehicle", I said. She proceeded to tell me that she would not talk to anyone out there that she didn't know. I asked why, reiterating that she needed her truck battery boosted. She told me about multiple murders that have happened in Dawson National Forest and how none of them have been solved. Alright, this was getting too weird. 

After this, I noticed her tent over on the other side of her truck, where the OTHER campfire was. (why two campfires for one lady?) That monstrosity of a tent would have slept at least 15 people. She could have driven her Toyota Tundra into that thing. I asked how long she'd been there. Four or five days. How long was she staying? Fourteen days. Recently divorced. Did she kill him and was on the run? It was time for me to put my damn ear plugs in and try to sleep. One last weird thing. She had a 13 year old chihuahua that she had let out to run around. I heard it yelp loudly and her yell are you okay? From my bivy, I yelled, is he ok? She replied to let me know that he was fine and that there were just a couple of baby bears over there. What? Was she on acid? Meth? There were no damn baby bears running around the camp with us. Sleep and leave early were on the agenda. 

Alarm was set for 3am. I had just been tossing and turning but, to my surprise, I was asleep (and alive) when it went off. I am a little sheepish when it comes to riding alone in the middle of nowhere by myself in the middle of the night. I'll do it, but the nerves are usually elevated. I decided to just try to sleep a little more. I got up at 5am, packed, ate, tiptoed as to not wake up the axe murderer or all the bears that were apparently staying at the campsite with her, and then rolled out. It was a chilly 51 degrees. Wool base layer for the upper body kind-of-chilly. 

I was a little uneasy hitting the seldom-traveled forest service roads before sunrise. You know, the ones with the gate and road closed sign, assuring you that no one will find you anytime soon should a bear or mountain line decide to take you for an early morning snack. Nevertheless, the morning turned beautiful. I crossed a river (assuming it was probably the amicalola river but not sure?) just before sunrise and pushed my bike up a service road that was steep with chunky large limestone and slightly overgrown so there was no reason to attempt to ride it. I emerged into a field with the tiniest sliver of morning light available. This was where I was most sure that there would be a hungry pack of bears looking for breakfast. No bears. Forward progress continued. 

I began seeing signs for Dawson National Forest. I was happy there was light. It felt incredible outside. I was really looking forward to the day but sad that it would end at some point over the next 6 hours. More mix of gravel and pavement. Beautiful cabins and rentals everywhere. The sun was peeking over the ridges. I entered some type of small community/neighborhood and dipped off into someones back yard just to snap a few pics (I know you're shocked). 

After this, around mile 118, I knew the only sustained "climb" of the route would begin. To my surprise, it was very easy. The grade was very low and I just stood and easy pedaled at conversation pace all the way up. This is where I crossed back into Gilmer County from Dawson County. And, don't let that easy climb-talk fool you;  there is plenty of climbing on this route. I'll give numbers at the end. 

At the top, I decided it was time to have one of my burritos, for breakfast. I turned off the main road onto a twisty country road that started with a nice large oak tree and great view overlooking a calm pasture. I just sat down Indian-style and dug in. Another one of my favorite moments of the whole trip. It was the most peaceful breakfast I've had in awhile. 

From here, I had about 35-40 more miles. There seemed to be more gravel than pavement. I made my way around apple orchards and between large chicken farms. The beauty just seemed to never cease. I found myself slowing my pace a little, likely because, subconsciously, I knew it was drawing near the end. I couldn't go home to see my sweet Melissa as she was out of town, but my dog was at my dads and boy was I starting to miss him too. My charging pack had died quicker than I anticipated and my dynamo hub won't do much over the course of a few hours so I didn't take as many pictures as the end of my trip drew closer. Lots of farms, corn fields, views of the foothills, and DOGS. So many dogs!! I forgot to mention how many new four-legged friends I made. I'll post a pic of all of them at the end. There are even 2 or 3 I didn't get a picture of. And none were aggressive. Two different Pyrenees wouldn't come to me, but that's it. 

I made my way to Cartecay, Georgia. Here, the route did a small figure-eight type thing and made a 10 mile loop before crossing back across itself leaving only 15 miles to the finish. The loop was so beautiful with its apple orchards, a vineyard, rolling green hills, and small farm houses. 

At the end of this loop, I hit the Crossroads Grocery, where there were off-road utility vehicles sitting in the parking lot. My kind of place. There was a small restaurant inside and the menu was a series of notebook paper hung across the top of the window with everything handwritten. Again, the employees were so welcoming and hospitable. I felt happy and at home. I had a delicious hot dog with lots of toppings, a coke, some water, and then saddled up for the final 15 miles to the finish. 

There was quite a bit more gravel, and mostly downhill, which was awesome. I finally emerged onto GA 52. I knew where I was. The Cartecay River was just to my left, paralleling the road. Ellijay, and my car, were just a mile or so ahead. Awesome!! Wrong. Chris decided that riders should turn right on Turniptown Road, just before you get into Ellijay, for one last up. It's one of those gradual paved climbs that isn't that bad at all, unless you're hot, your legs are a bit fatigued, and you've been pedaling for a couple of days.

I finally saw the summit. I was standing and mashing because I knew it was the final climb then I would descend into Ellijay. I was ready for the cool wind to hit my sweaty body on the descent because the sun was working against me on the climb. Wrong. I glanced down at my eTrex GPS to see that the route, in fact, turned left at the summit of the climb, and continued to climb through a twisty-turny neighborhood. I snapped a picture of the road in front of me and sent it to Chris while still pedaling. "I'm going to hurt you". He replies, "One last up!". 

I descended quickly down the curvy mountain road, right back to GA 52, where I had just been. It was worth it. I was happy. 

I cruised into Ellijay about 1pm, loaded my things, and then just sat in my car for at least 10 minutes, smiling and thinking about everything I had just seen and how fortunate I am to be physically and financially able to get out and explore the world by bike. And then I crushed a cheese burger and went to get my dog. Thank you again, Chris, for such an unforgettable adventure. 

And, here are the dogs!

Thank you all for reading. Hopefully, in future posts, I learn to condense and be less wordy. That, or I’ll have to start doing these in multiple installments! 

Subscribe to my Blog!!

* indicates required

Email Address *