Bad Happenings for the Good Girls

Beautiful Blue Ridge and Mercier Orchards
Photo@ Debi Lander

Lynda Thompson in front of her coffee shop, L & L Beanery. 

The next to last morning of our trip began as usual, this time with a divine breakfast at L & L Beanery, a cutesy renovated bank building complete with vault and the most fabulous scones. We sipped cappuccinos' with owner, Lynda Thompson, as she recounted her tale of moving to Blue Ridge.

Blue Ridge Scenic Railroad

The Blue Ridge Scenic Railroad Engine

Then we walked over to the 1905 Depot before boarding the Blue Ridge Scenic Railway. We browsed around and were up to our typical antics -- posing in engineer and conductor hats. We met the real conductor and an adorable little boy dressed up for his ride on the rails.

Good Girls wear hats.

Judy had been having trouble with swelling in her recently recovered (but formerly broken foot), so once on the train we extended out feet up on the side of the railcar like a lot of other folks.  Except... when Judy's leg slipped down, it popped her hip replacement out of place!  Ouch- she was in trouble, real trouble.



An ambulance had to be called and Judy was assisted off the train. She was in amazingly good spirits throughout the ordeal. Goodness! Off she went to the hospital and I tried not to worry.  I knew she was in expert hands, but this event wasn't on our carefully planned itinerary. We had not included a visit to a hospital.

Decisions were made that I would still ride the train and would catch up with Judy later.

Detour: View from the gurney

EMT's help Judy off the train and to a waiting ambulance. 

Trouble is putting it lightly. Pain too. However, the folks of Blue Ridge Scenic Railway were great as were the EMTs who arrived. Between them, they carried me off the train in a chair and onto the gurney with care.

As they wheeled me along the track to the street, I looked up and saw a full train worth of people hanging out the windows on one side to see what was happening to the woman who had been carried off. It’s a wonder the train didn’t just dump over. It didn’t, though, so I managed a queen wave and rolled on.

A short drive later, I was in the emergency room at Fannin Regional Hospital. X-rays, IV, anesthesia and a lot of TLC later, I came to with no pain and hip back in place. When enough of the meds had worn off, I was allowed to stand up and walk around then leave.

Imagine, two hours after being in agony and unable to stand on both legs I was walking and on my way to lunch at Mercier. Truly miraculous. Consequences could be dealt with later but for now I was back on the road. Hooray.

Back aboard the train

Conductor and Helper

The engine began the chug down 13-miles of rails, a project started by volunteers in 1998. The 45-minute (each way) excursion becomes a generation-bonding adventure. I chose to ride in an open air car along with many grandparents and kids, but could have picked a vintage climate controlled car.

Scenic Views along the train ride. 

Each year more than 70,000 passengers ride the Blue Ridge Scenic Railway alongside the Toccoa River peeking at the waterway and people swimming and drifting along in tubes. The train stops in the twin border towns of McCaysville, Georgia, and Copperhill, Tennessee. Copperhill/McCaysville is one town with two names because it is split by the Georgia/Tennessee State Line. Naturally, I had to have a photo snapped with one foot in each state. Funny how our Georgia road trip ventured into bordering Alabama and Tennessee, too.

Open air car is enjoyed by children- and photographers. 

Most riders spend the two-hour layover eating lunch, shopping for crafts and antiques, snacking on ice cream, or walking around. But, I was met by Jode Hanson from the Convention and Visitor's Bureau and driven to Mercier Orchards for lunch at their restaurant and a tour.

Debi in both Georgia and Tennessee.

Once I was in range of a cell tower, I was relieved to find a text message stating that Judy's hip had been popped back into place- hooray- and she was going to be able to rejoin me. Simply amazing.

Into the Hills and Apple Orchards

Mercier (Mur-SEAR) Orchards was started back in 1943 by Bill and Adele Mercier, and the business is now celebrating its 70th harvest.

Note: Sadly, shortly after our visit, matriarch Miss Adele passed away.

Beyond apples and fresh produce, their onsite store serves up a variety of farm fresh items like jellies and jams, sauces and salsas, kitchen and home paraphernalia, cider, fruit wine, meat and cheese. The bakery, in my opinion, is the best part -- renown for selling over a million and a half of fried hand pies. You can choose among 27 varieties, but I picked a traditional apple pie that tasted like a donut with pie filling in the middle. Too darn good for words!  They also sell a lot of cider donuts.

Fried Hand Pies from Mercier Orchard Bakery

Judy says fresh peaches were used in the outstanding fried peach pie.




After lunch I met up with Tim Mercier, the second generation and current owner, who gave me a jeep tour. Tim explained that he must keep up with the latest methods and technology to produce the best apples and remain competitive. Mercier is now able to grow 1,200 dwarf apple trees per acre. This methodology promotes the most efficient use of sunlight and water, employing trickle tube irrigation when needed.



The farm covers about 300 acres and approximately 200 of those acres are used for fruit production.  About 90 percent of the crop is apples including more than 50 varieties, but their individual picking times vary.  All apples are picked by hand, so it helps that some varieties don't mature until late fall or December.

Tim Mercier in his orchards

I was introduced to the Ginger Gold variety, the first apple of the season. This particular apple is non-browning.  How amazing is that? You can cut them up for pies or applesauce and they won't brown.

The fall is the busiest time of year with "U Pick" your own fruit being a favorite activity.  Busloads of visitors fill the parking lots in October. However, during the spring customers can pick their own strawberries, then cherries or blueberries.

Fruit Wines & Cider

Be sure to visit the farm winery tasting room. Tim explained, “We are now a farm winery and make a hard cider with alcohol content about 5-7 percent. Being a farm winery we can do all kinds of fruit wines like peach wine, blueberry wine and different varieties of apples.



“We also make a sparkling cider. We entered it into ‘The Flavors of Georgia’ contest and won in our category.  We made 150,000 gallons of private-label cider last year."

Picturesque Mercier Orchards in Blue Ridge, Georgia
Photo@Debi Lander

Lots of apples and lots of fun around this family owned operation in the mountains.

Blue Ridge - Rediscovering a mountain getaway

Old homestead on Aska Road along the Toccoa River. Photo © by Judy Wells.

I had been to Blue Ridge, population 1,209, many times, thanks to a cousin who lives there, and thought I knew the area with its peaceful views of mountains, rivers, streams and waterfalls.

Not quite. I knew the area and had seen its growth (double the number of vacation homes in 10 years), but hadn't explored downtown for many years.

West Main Street, Blue Ridge. Photo © by Debi Lander.

Won't make that mistake again because it's hopping. A world famous bamboo fly rod maker and school, a jewelry designer whose work is worn by Sports Illustrated swimsuit models, an olive oil and balsamic vinegar store, prize-winning cupcake bakers and innovative restauranteurs have joined the familiar line of art galleries and gift shops.

Vinegars at Blue Ridge Olive Oil Company. Photo © by Debi Lander.

After checking out Tank Town just down the road, we began our Blue Ridge visit at the Fannin County Chamber of Commerce and Visitors Center, meeting our hosts, Jan Hackett and Jode Hanson, and getting an overview of the town. Turned out to be a smart stop for any traveler with good free maps and a variety of self-guided driving, hiking and history tours.

Start with food

Driving tanks is hungry work so lunch was first on the agenda. Lucky us, it was at Blue Ridge Grocery, one of many projects of former editor and food writer Michelle Moran and her husband, Chef Danny Mellman.

Michelle Moran and Danny Mellman. Photo © by Judy Wells.

This creative couple have created two restaurants, a one-acre downtown farm where they created the Kids Farm to Table Camp and took an old downtown building and revamped the upstairs into urban cabin-style bedroom rentals.

Kale salad. Food photos © by Debi Lander.

Peaches-n-Cream pie.

Looking and sniffing around the aromatic Grocery with its made-in-house with local produce fare, we realized it was going to be tough to decide on just one thing. Lucky us again. Michelle had sampler plates brought out. Great kale salad, yummy sandwiches and, thanks to baker Heather MacLeod, a delicious peaches and cream pie.

Get the stories

Having sampled ourselves into satiety, we met with blonde and bubbly former Atlantan Lynn Kemp, who turned her jewelry making hobby into Gawdy Bobbles.

Bobbles. Photo © by Debi Lander.

Lynn Kemp. Photo © by Judy Wells.

What began with light-weight bangles in school colors has turned into an international business selling custom-crafted earrings, bracelets and necklaces for women - and men! - through boutiques, the internet and her small store in Blue Ridge.

Making Bobbles in Blue Ridge. Photo © by Debi Lander.

Sports Illustrated bathing suit models have worn her creations for the last two years and her jewelry has been singled out by CBS Atlanta and Parents Magazine.

It was singled out by us, too; we each left with a "starter set" of bangles.

Fashion tip for spring 2014 from Lynn: Look for natural and tribal tones.


 Just around the corner from Lynn's workshop is Oyster Fine Bamboo Fly Rods, otherwise known as nirvana for fly fishing devotees. Bill Oyster is renowned for his rods, each one made and engraved by his hand. Ninety rods a year is the output; most are custom made, but the few "standards" that slip out are quickly snatched up despite price tags that start at $2,390 and go up well into five figures (averages $4,000-$6,000 vs. $900 for best graphite rod).

Bill and his wife, Shannen, were out of town so we talked to Oyster's apprentice Riley Gudakunst. He told us the story of how Bill was a professional cyclist until  forced to retire following a bad crash. He liked to fly fish, but when wife Shannen found out how expensive bamboo fly rods were, she had a suggestion, "Learn how to make your own."

Riley, our Oyster guide. Photo © by Debi Lander.

He did and the rest is angling history, countless magazine stories and a devoted following that includes Pres. Jimmy Carter.

Oyster etching. Photo © by Debi Lander.

Bill is still the only professional rod-maker who does all of the hand engraving himself.

Evidently, that etched silver, gold or brass cap at the end is quite important to rod owners. One of Bill's makes the rod an heirloom piece.

Common area at Oyster Cast and Blast Inn. Photo © by Debi Lander.

Riley showed us through the workroom where the magic happens then told us about their school where anglers can make their own custom bamboo rod over a six day period; cost $1,570. After that it was up to the second floor to see The Oyster Cast and Blast Inn, four en suite bedrooms with common space that can be rented.

Like so many people you meet in Blue Ridge, the Oysters left the city for the quality of life and slower pace (and in their case, trout fishing) here, and started innovative businesses that are growing like kudzu.

Cupcake Wars winners. Photo © by Debi Lander.

We cruised some of the galleries and shops, including The Sweet Shoppe   where we picked up some of Nikki Gribble and Susan Catron's Cupcake Wars winning delights for snacks, then decided to catch a little natural beauty. There was just time before dinner at Chef Danny Melman's Harvest on Main to drive out and see Fall Branch Falls.

Fall Branch Falls. Photo © by Debi Lander.

It was a lovely interlude but our table awaited at the rustic lodge-like eatery with the fine cuisine.

Harvest on Main. Photo © by Judy Wells.

Considering how much we had left to see - not to mention eat - the Good Girls put Blue Ridge atop of their list for a return visit. Next time we rent a cabin, sit back and relax like everyone else who falls in love with this hideaway.

Fall Branch Falls. Photo © by Debi Lander.

 

Why am I Driving a Tank?

Blue Ridge, Georgia is one of those rarified small town American gems. It's a girlfriend getaway retreat, an artsy haven including galleries, antique and specialty shops and restaurants where chefs take pride in serving local produce. Yet the mountain town has a casual feel where you're just as likely to run into fly fishermen and campers or a family coming off the scenic railroad trip.

Roadside view driving into Blue Ridge, GA

Six miles outside of Blue Ridge sits Tank Town USA. It isn’t a town, but a new attraction. It doesn’t look like one of those either. We missed it the first time we drove by.

Street View of Tank Town

Tank Town USA has no street appeal. There’s a sign but you’re likely to miss that, too. It’s downright basic. Tank Town USA is just a big field of Georgia red clay with mounds and dips, a little tent, and a bunch of heavy equipment. Like something under construction.

But the company website entices, "If you can drive a car then you can drive a tank! All of our tanks come originally equipped from the military with automatic transmissions, and the steering controls are simple and easy to operate. Aside from the fact that they are made of thick steel armored plating, have tracks instead of wheels and weigh over 33,000 pounds it's just like driving a car!"

Ready to roll.

Now this sounded exactly like an adventure the Good Girls would love. And why not?  We can deconstruct our travel writing personas and become dirty girls who dig demolition. Right? 

We met owner Todd Leibross, an engineer in the Merchant Marine, who just happens to love tanks and military equipment. He purchased the tanks, officially known as armored personnel carriers, in England and had them shipped to Georgia.  Todd is a true entrepreneur- he seems to have found a clever method to make extra money.  People pay him to drive a tank over an old car and then Todd sells the crushed vehicle to the scrap dealer.  In the process, folks have a ball - and create a great story they happily tell.

View from above.

After arriving and meeting Todd, Judy and I filled out the usual release forms, and then I lowered myself through the FV432 tank's hatch into the driver's compartment. Wow- sorta felt like I'd been dropped into a scene from the movie Stripes and was momentarily overcome by the oil and diesel fumes. I would drive from a standing position with my head looking over the hood of the tank. Todd positioned himself behind me in the vehicle commander's hatch, in order to feed me instructions.



Judy was stationed as the lookout on top, a perfect perch to shoot from if she'd had a gun.  No weapons on this model, however.

Serious Tank Driving

I slipped the rumbling engine in gear (Todd had previously turned it on), pressed down on the accelerator and we were started making tank tracks- albeit at a slow pace. A nine-foot wide and 17-foot length vehicle isn't made for drag racing, you know.

"Pull back on the left stick to turn left or the right stick to turn right," said Todd. That seemed intuitively easy and it was. The odd part was that the tank turned from the center, very different from turning the tires on a car.  In no time I had the hang of things, driving up and down banked earthen mounds around a free-form course, and getting a little bolder with speed.  I was having a blast.  Honestly, controlling a massive tank is a daggone power trip.  Let your inner GI Joe out.

"Are you ready to drive over a car," asked Todd? 

"Sure," I said.  In this case, Judy had to get off - to prevent any possible accidents from flying debris. 

Crushing the car video

So, it was just Todd and me and my 33,000 pounds of military might. I slowly maneuvered the tank's right side tread to line up with the middle of the car.  "Proceed very slowly," Todd coached, and my manly machine squeaked, rattled and jostled along.  I drove over, yes, over the top of the previously smashed car, crushing it even more. Yee-gads, that was frickin' awesome. 

Would you like to try that from a different direction," Todd asked? 

"Absolutely," I responded and this time I drove across the car.  I tell you tank cruising could become addictive.  I felt macho, like the Terminator or the opposite of Private Benjamin who begged to quit the military. I could drive this thing for hours.

Actually the cost to drive at Tank Town might prevent that-- it costs $50 for ten minutes.  Todd said most folks end up driving for 20 minutes because they really get into the thrill. To crush a fresh car costs $499.

Todd claims he has been surprised by the number of women wanting to drive, as well as entire multi-generation families. But take me, for example. I'm a grandmother of seven and would have loved to have my grandkids watch. And my sons would have begged for the chance.

From a different perspective, an 88-year-old WWII Veteran recently showed up.  The guy was overcome with emotion from the opportunity to once again drive a tank.  Who knew the possibilities? 

Driving at Tank Town USA is perhaps the ultimate thing to do for someone who has done it all. I see it as putting an end to gift giving woes. Imagine all those difficult people on your list who could receive gift certificates.

All I can say is, "I love my job and tanks for the memories." 

Judy gets a different view sitting on top of the tank.

Judy and her view from above

Really wanted to drive that hill-climbin’, car-crushin’ tank, but having carefully nursed a recently broken foot this far, I climbed the ladder up to the tank’s top, took one look at the driver’s “hole” and reconsidered. Getting in would be a snap; getting out not so much.

“I’ll take the chair,” I told Todd.

The chair didn’t look particularly sturdy but its legs were securely attached to the tank and there was a competition lap belt to keep me tethered to the seat. Camera in hand, I took my place, sticking out like a sore – and disappointed – thumb.

I could watch Debi manipulate the controls but the engine’s roar crushed any other sound. Then we lurched forward. It may not have felt that way inside but atop, “lurch” is what it did.

Like a honkin’ big, tread-traveling mechanical elephant. I’ve ridden elephants. First, a mile or so trek atop an unadorned Ringling Bros Barnum and Bailey behemoth where I was positioned like a showgirl with my legs behind the beast’s ears. More recently in a howdah atop an elephant in Thailand.

Riding atop a tank is very much like sitting in that howdah, a neck-snapping, lurching, uncomfortable experience. A litigious sort would be crying “Whiplash.”

I wouldn’t have missed it for anything, but next time, let me at those sticks.

*****

Todd Liebross, owner of Tank Town

Tank Town USA is open from April to Thanksgiving, on weekends and during the week by appointment.

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