HELEN – This mountain town, in an earlier day, was an enclave for bountiful logging opportunity—but then went into decline and now depends on tourism to survive economically.
An Atlanta artist, John Kollock, suggested years ago that to become a tourist attraction the city needed a makeover to take on the appearance of an Old World Bavarian village. The community has succeeded, but there are blights that some of us could do without—namely the proliferation of tattoo parlors, motorcycles backfiring as they gather undisciplined in the village, and intoxicated tubers polluting the Chattahoochee.
Those who knew Peter Hodkinson III, who was something of a Renaissance man who brought hot air ballooning to Helen, believe that if he had lived, no telling what this Bavarian village lookalike might have become. Tragically, he died at 41 when his hot air balloon collided with a power line near Toccoa, 36 miles away.
Downstream, the river offers the best in flyfishing. My favorite spot is the Nora Mill Dam, a mile and a half south of town. It is a log dam, built in 1824. Standing knee deep in the galvanizing Chattahoochee, with the spirited waters rushing over the dam, is as emotionally satisfying as anywhere in our state.
To be at the dam with a flyrod in your hand is as fulfilling of an experience in the great outdoors as you could find. The sights and sounds of nature will forever leave its patrons with awe-inspiring gratefulness and the urge to return as soon as possible.
Any Georgian can enjoy a love affair with the Chattahoochee from any geographic location: from Tybee Light to Rabun Gap, from Tallapoosa to Attapulgus. I came here in the early sixties and realized how satisfying trips into the North Georgia mountains can be. The winding roads, meadows with a solitary milk cow grazing contentedly, corn patches, little white churches, neatly stacked firewood, and pickup trucks with a pace that is 20 miles per hour under the speed limit.
Development has come to the Georgia mountains, but there remain space and locales where time stands still. A lot of colorful characters have left their stamp on the landscape—like Arthur Woody, a wildlife ranger who was a conservationist, outdoor aficionado, and humanitarian. He was from Suches, which is where you will find a modern-day version of the ranger in Scott Woerner, who loves the North Georgia mountains as much as Woody did. The Hall of Famer, who thrilled sold-out crowds at Georgia’s Sanford Stadium, has hunted and fished most all his life—until his aching body caused him to swap his bow and arrow for a camera.
In addition to countless photos filed away in his camera and his mind’s eye, he simply enjoys wandering about the Chattahoochee environs and communing with nature.
His garden is a horn of plenty, and he is particularly expert at making pickles. If you are lucky, he might share a jar with you. In the days when he harvested deer for his freezer, he was as expert with venison on the grill as he was returning punts for a touchdown in his heyday as a Bulldog.
I always look forward to finding my way to these hills in late summer to enjoy locating silver queen corn at a roadside stand. Silver queen corn with extra helpings of butter, accompanied by a green salad, potatoes, and beans, brings about a filling and nutritious meal.
It is a good news time for outdoorsmen in these parts. With cooler weather, the trout are beginning to return to the Chattahoochee. They tend to hide during the summer months as temperatures rise, causing them stressful conditions as the oxygen content drops and their metabolic rates increase.
Late October, as the temperatures fall and the leaves are turning, will be the most enjoyable time of autumn in North Georgia.
“Out of the hills of Habersham, down the valleys of Hall,
I hurry amain to reach the plain, run the rapids and leap the fall.”
Sydney Lanier’s “Song of the Chattahoochee” makes me wish for a cabin on Georgia’s most romantic river, a flyrod and a three-pound trout who doesn’t know that he will soon be released. In the meantime, he fights like hell not to be subdued and makes my day.