After refreshments at mile 24 we hit the trail again. With the earlier morning’s stormy looking weather and being this far out from Atlanta (where most people it would seem start from) trail traffic remained extremely low. At some point in the next 20 miles the group fell into a strange sort of rhythm. The tandem in the rear on any slow descents or even grades, with one of the solo riders going up to the intersections to clear the way so that both riders didn’t have to loose speed and dismount and then remount (not the easiest thing on a fully loaded tandem). The 5 of us generally keeping to around the same pace but breaking of into different groups depending on how our legs were feeling and waiting up at the next major crossing and generally looking out for interesting stops or potential resupply points. It’s interesting to note that out in the middle of nowhere cars have a deep respect of the trail crossings for some reason. People would patiently wait at un-signaled crossings. The only thing I could imagine would be that there must be enough money generated in summer from the path that the local enforcement is on top of handing out tickets to cars that disregard the crossing? The crossings with them were so efficient that like clockwork the second you pressed the button the light would turn yellow and a second later red, so clearing the way for the tandem was rather efficient work.

Somewhere within Cobb county the tandem and I caught a draft off some type of police vehicle (bigger than a golf cart smaller than a truck). Sometime after Rockmart (relevant later) that we were warned by locals of Mount Trashmore. While the name seems silly and over simplified, it really cuts to the point. A large mountain of trash with vultures constantly encircling it that the silver comet goes right next to and up in elevation with. This began the section of trail that broke with our preconceived notion as the trial not having anything, “more than a 5 percent grade.” This may be true of the most common traveled part of the trail by Atlanta locals but this part of the trail is in no way flat. As we started our climb we ran into this guy who had just parachuted onto trash mountain, in talking to him Kyle later remarked that he seemed as if he had had one too many Mountain Dews….

Continuing on there were more ascents and technical (and scary) descents involving tandems and me catching drafts off the tandem (very scary!) whenever possible. Mile 40 was extremely rolling and right about when we realized that we were getting truly tired and that we were running out of daylight. Mile 42 flattened out right as we ran out of water, so Shakes and I went ahead to see if we could find any sign of water.  Over the next 20 miles we learned that just because a trailhead advertises a bathroom and picnic tables and whatever else, it may in fact just be a gravel parking lot with a sign that bears no factual information.

At mile 66 Shakes and I ran into another one of these mis-advertised parking lots. Luckily there was a sign for the SLAUGHTER! convenience store. Advertised services included, drinks, beer, supplies, and the “slaughter happy meal.” Not advertised on the sign was the fact that this place was actually a video poker and slot machine packed full of chain smoking patrons on the Alabama ~ Georgia border, with a small and strange concessions counter. Shakes and I were the first to venture into this strange place sending the rest including pink spandex clad Bobby (oh I can imagine the looks he got) to go experience their strange vending procedures (when you pay with a card the minimum charge is 10 dollars and they give you the remainder back in cash?).

Stocked up with off brand water and with failing light we unceremoniously crossed the state line border.

The 7 miles into Alabama were mostly at a slow descent crossing into the Talladega forest with the sun coming straight at us through the trees. The forest line was very pronounced turning from pastoral to untouched (well within at least I’d guess 50 years) mountainside. My only moment of apprehension came when right before we crossed into full on national forest the private forest and hunting grounds were all marked with no trespassing, however a couple of miles before we caught up with the Pinhoti trail the signs vanished.  Before we could get off the bike path the third stray dog that we had seen in 7 miles of Alabama approached, us and ended up following us to our campsite and staying with us for the night.

The push up the foot trail with the bikes and all the gear (most difficult obviously was the loaded tandem) proved too much for us to reach our goal (I estimate we fell short by maybe a 1/3 mile hike). As I went ahead to try and see how far ahead the shelter was, Twotone, Bobby, Shakes, and Kyle began setting up camp around a nice fire ring on a rare section of stepped flat campground.  I found the water supply for the shelter, but when I saw their flashlights on the ridge below me, and they mine on the ridge above we figured out that we were going to just have to bet on dry weather. As the dog and I returned from our scouting mission Bobby mistook the dog for a Chupacabra. Soon I had a fire started, and a nice little nest for my sleeping bag and bivy on the edge of a step with a log to keep me from rolling further downhill. Ten minutes later we had enough coals for cooking and the liquor was broken out….

We woke up to temperature that I would guess to be in the upper 30s. We ate a cold breakfast and got the gear together for an achey hike back down to the Chief Ladiga bike trail.

At the intersection of the foot and bike trail we took our time to get everything packed up, strapped down, adjusted, and repaired. We didn’t start pedaling until around 11 or 12. Out of water we again stopped by the arcade for supplies, with the dog from the night before still in tow (7.5 miles keeping up with the bikes). True to form even on MLK day at noon the gambling business was clearly booming. This time when riding through the state line we took time to pause and take some pictures.

Not another picture was taken for the remainder of the trip. Three miles down the road the stray dog that camped with us and had now been running with the bikes for 10.5 miles got distracted by a stray collie on the side of the trail, and we got down to the business of suffering. After 67.5 miles of riding the day previous and some cross country hiking we were not nearly as fresh as we had been starting off the day before. After crossing back over mile 40 and trash mountain we came into Rockmart and our aching bones and stomachs couldn’t resist the idea of food and beer.

We found a small cafe with amazingly cheap prices on good beer and food. I believe the blue plate special(steak, potatoes, something else, a drink, and dessert) came in at around 5 dollars. This will certainly be our next destination for a day trip there and back to Atlanta in the future. The Atlanta/Rockmart/Atlanta route also has the benefit of cutting out all of Mount Trashmore and mile 40 and not having to bring any gear. On the way back we also realized swimming could be added into a potential summer day trip to Rockmart because there is some kind of public lake/beach along the way, Coot’s Lake.  Leaving Rockmart (a little tipsy) but much refreshed, we realized we’d be cutting it close to get home by dark (the trail “closes” at dark). On the way back the tandem was crawling up hill but passing us all on the descents, at this point many of us were tired enough to start thinking about drafting, and I can say that the tandem with me in draft hit some intimidating downhill speeds. The mile markers were more torture than informative at this point. We all crawled up the last uphill stretch towards the Publix parking lot spread out and under a dark sky. We limped around loaded up the van and thoroughly enjoyed our victory beers!

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