Do Not Try This At Home (unless home is, say, not GA)

So, I went back to Arabia Mountain. And I already blogged all this, but lost the post before it got published. Needless to say, I was very vexed. 

Anyway, in my original post, I made note of several things that it is important for any hiker to remember. 

1--what sorts of temperatures are associated with Georgia in July

2--what sorts of air quality is associated with Georgia in July

3--what the word "mountain" implies

4--what "unmarked trail" means

Clearly, I remember none of these things. And I ventured forth, with a book, an apple, a camera, a notebook, and some extra H20. 

 

Incidentally, finding the trail up to this part took me about twenty minutes, because I wasn't expecting it to be on the other side of highway.

 

 

Why, is that 400 million year old transformed granite through those trees?!

 

 

I think it's really cool the way the stone has sheared off and left these giant cubes and rectangles--like some giant's bench or footrest.

 

Ah, the famous swirls of lithonia "gneiss."

 

 

 

Look at the rust! Look at the rust! Cool!

 

This is, by the way, a completely different lake.

 

 

Wow, it's a hundred degrees outside. I think I'll climb that. Unmarked trail be damned!

 

And since I'm now becoming very aware of exactly how very much it is a hundred degrees outside, I am getting no closer to this ledge. But look how high!

And this is back at the beginning, as I sit shivering because I have been an idiot to hike up a mountain that has no marked trail in 100 degree weather in July in Georgia. And really, at this point, I just totally deserve to get kicked out of Mensa. 

So, I have taken a small hiking break to work on my cooking skills. Which was moderately successful--I made some potatoes and carrots and broccoli, which all came out well, and I mashed the leftover potatoes to fry up in potato cakes tomorrow. I DID, however, slightly overcook a very beautiful piece of tuna, but since I have never in my life cooked fish before, I forgive myself. I will simply have to buy more tuna and practice again. A tragedy indeed, eh?