2005.03.15 - Fully rested after the previous day's exploits on and around Sassafras Mountain, SC, I concluded my business meetings and began the drive to Georgia's highpoint after a good lunch. What my map showed as a short drive soon revealed itself as an endless number of speed zones as the route travelled through many small towns; I had seriously underestimated the drive time from Greenville, and unfortunately would not have sufficient time to climb the Arkaquah Trail as I had originally intended.

I found my way to the turn-off up Brasstown, and drove up the steep road to a massive parking area. On the way up, I had noticed spray-painted encouragement all along the pavement to cheer-on the riders in the upcoming stage of the Tour de Georgia bicycle race. No two-wheeled climbers were around on this day, and I paid the parking fee beneath the ever-darkening sky.

I walked over to a bathroom and changed into hiking clothes for the walk up to Georgia's highest real-estate. There were signs noting that the summit facilities were under construction, however, neither the trail nor the road were barricaded to prevent foot traffic. I made good time up the paved walkway, and soon the Brasstown Blad tower came into view. The main steps were closed, however, there was a narrow concrete path on the east side of the summit plateau which allowed unobstructed and assumedly legal access to the buildings. All of the areas were closed and locked, though I found a nice vantage with no orange tape barring access.

I had a very surprising encounter near the graveled summit; before leaving Texas, I traded email with one "Frank Smith" who would be in the area at roughly the same time as me. As the trip got closer, it looked like we would miss each other, and I put the idea of meeting up out of my head. Imagine my surprise when I heard, "Are you Daniel?" from behind! Bob, Frank's alterego, and I had a wonderful chat for a while, until we both needed to be on our way. Doing a bit of route-planning, we decided that meeting up for a hike of Clingman's Dome might be possible in the next few days. Saying our good-byes Frank and I parted company.

My time at the top quickly came to an end as I felt a few tiny rain drops fall from above. I raced back down to my rental Impala and rapidly set-off toward Atlanta where I would decide where to go next.

You would think that the Brasstown Bald story ends here, but it doesn't; I drove for 30 miles and all-of-a-sudden realized that my sunglasses were still on the ledge of the Observation Deck! Now these aren't great sunglasses by any means ($6 on sale from American Eagle), however, it is very difficult for me to find shades that don't make me look like a bug. After a bit of rumination, I eventually decided to go back for them. Finding the parking area exactly as I had left it, I jogged, this time up the road, to retrieve my sunglasses. About halfway to the top, the overcast sky opened up and unleashed a strong rain. Utterly drenched, I found my eyewear, exactly where I though they would be, and started a full-out run back to the safety of my car.

With all of my gear safely with me, I resumed the drive to Atlanta. I had lost a lot of time by going back to Brasstown, so I decided to drive through the night to Florida's Britton Hill, also known as the lowest of the state highpoints. Even the lowest would have to be "climbed", so I drove though the rainy night with my sights set on Walton County in Florida's panhandle.