It's early afternoon and I stop at Batesville Junction to check my maps and get a bearing. There are about a dozen sport-bike riders milling around, re-hydrating on various drinks, looking like they're re-charging their batteries from the latest road-assault. Most are wearing some type of track leather outfit.

I will see other such groups. Local sport-bike riders literally swarm the area on Saturdays and Sundays as they come up for some diversion.

Inside I find a friendly storeowner. I plop my map on the counter and ask for assistance. She walks me over to a much larger-scale map on the wall. It has much more local detail and she takes some time to give me guidance as to the area and what might be worth visiting. True southern hospitality and I appreciate it.

On a sadder note, I discover that a female rider crashed not far from here on the way to the rally. The older gentleman relating this to me claims that he came upon the accident site shortly after it occurred. Apparently it was quite serious, a sobering reminder that these roads can bite.

As he finishes relating this, he's just at the cusp of going into a biker lecture. I instantly cut him off at the pass by sharing with him what I witnessed while I followed the Crown Victoria this morning. The speed with which this dampens his spur has me wondering if he also doesn't share in this type of driving on occasion.

Sometime mid-afternoon, I come across the visually striking little alpine hamlet of Helen. This Bavarian-flavored village has an interesting story to tell. It is an inspiring testament to perseverance, adaptation, and survival.

Over the last two hundred years, this community has experienced several boom-bust cycles. Its commercial roots date back to the Great Georgia Gold Rush (in the 1800's) where gold was mined to depletion. This great boom was followed by a lull as settlers and miners moved to greener pastures, notably the California gold rush.

In the early 1900's another boom followed as commercial interest grew in the abundant supply of timber. This created another period of relative prosperity. By 1930, supplies had dwindled and Helen once again experienced an exodus.

As tourism in Northern Georgia grew during the 50's and 60's, some local businessmen became determined to participate in this economic activity. At that time, Helen was a non-descript little town that had little to offer. After some serious cogitating, they hatched the idea of creating a theme town.

As it turned out, the designer they hired had lived in the Bavarian Alps for several years. And so began the great makeover of Helen, Georgia. Existing buildings were given new Bavarian-inspired facades while some streets were converted to cobblestone. And the rest is history.

It's warm and traffic is at a crawl through mainstreet, literally moving inches at a time. Cruiser type bikes are out in force, rumbling up and down the street, blipping their thunderous exhausts.

I smile as I realize that everyone in life seems to have their niche of self-expression. Sportbikes are out carving the twisties, while cruisers are busy prowling tourist-town mainstreets. Everyone finds self-expression. :)

Though stopping at one of the many terraces for cool refreshment might be enjoyable, I'm feeling the urge to continue. You know, to re-connect once again with my own niche of self-expression. :)

I soon get through and once again enjoy the pleasure of undulating country roads. As the day wears on, I realize that I've been humming the refrain to Georgia On My Mind throughout the afternoon.

Bruno
Montreal, Canada