Tag Archives: Dawsonville

My legs screamed in protest. My lungs strained, for Floridians are neither well versed in cold air or the concept of going uphill. My pack felt heavy. It didn’t just feel heavy. It was heavy. An obsessive planner, I made sure my pack was stocked with every lens, drink, snack, and backup camera I might need on a long foray out into the wilderness. Except I wasn’t going to the wilderness this morning, I was going to one of Georgia’s busiest state parks. My body shuddered at every step I took up the long stairway I had embarked upon. In my head, one phrase rang out repeatedly. Cloudland Canyon. Cloudland Canyon. Cloudland Canyon.