My friend Dave and I are from Atlanta, the city, but we had a long weekend and decided we wanted to try to do something country.  Camping was pretty much a given, but we weren’t sure what to do in addition to the actual camping.

We thought about doing some hiking, but to us, the idea of walking long distances seemed to defeat the purpose of a vacation.  Hunting seemed like a cool idea, but neither of us had ever shot a gun before, and it’s one of those things that if you get there and find out you just can’t pull the trigger, you just wasted a lot of time and money; not to mention there’s the possibility of somebody thinking you’re a deer and shooting you.

We came up with some characteristics we wanted from our activity, namely relaxing in nature and conducive to safe heavy drinking.

We came up with some good old’ “Georgia Fly Fishing.”  Seemed simple enough.  You sit there, wait for the fish to bite and you drink.

We looked through some literature about fishing in Georgia, and decided that a fly fishing trip was our best option since we wouldn’t have sift through all the different options they offered for bait.

It was probably a mistake, but instead of actually planning it out and arranging the trip, we just started driving north with our camping gear, a few Georgia fly fishing guides, a bottle of “encouragement” and about 90 beers, and picked the first place we passed that we recognized from one of the guides. Good times!

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