Monday, February 28, 2022: Departures and Arrivals
  At about 9:30 a.m., I hit the road, only to be halted immediately by an
  accident on US 29 South that blocked the highway. Fortunately, I was able
  to exit and detour around it before the road became impassable. And once
  underway, travel proceeded generally smoothly, which has so often
  not been the case on trips involving Interstate 85 South. I grabbed a
  handful of caches along the way and arrived in Gainesville at 3:00 p.m.
  sharp, which was fortuitous since that was check-in time at my hotel.
  Once settled in, I headed over to my grandparents' old place, just to give it
  a look. As I was taking a few photos, a young lady came from within to check
  me out, so I told her about having spent much of my youth in that house.
  Rather to my surprise, she knew a lot about my family, since she had become
  friends with the neighbor across the street (sadly, now deceased), who was
  among my grandparents' best friends. The young lady was kind enough to let me
  come in and see the place, for which I was incredibly grateful, and we chatted
  about old times there for quite a while. We exchanged contact information, and
  I sent her some family photos I had on Google, particularly those that were
  taken in Gainesville. With all that's changed over the years here — so much of
  it, to my mind, undesirable — I found it most gratifying that this little
  corner of the past has been preserved to the degree that it is. After this
  visit, I went down to Ivey Terrace Park, very near my grandparents' old
  place, where my brother and I frequently played as kids. I found a couple of
  caches. Yes, I did. Then I returned to the hotel to freshen up a bit.
  For dinner, I wandered up to
  Southern Recess Gastro Pub, which Brugger and I had enjoyed on our trips here in
  2012
  ("Let's Do the Time Warp Again") and
  2013
  ("Chicken City"). The restaurant was crowded, but I was able to procure a seat outside
  (which was perfect, since it's tradition, and the indoors is
  really noisy). I went for a dirty gin martini and fish & chips. The
  martini was perfect, the fish & chips very good. To date, my favorite fish
  & chips have been found at
  The Celtic Fringe, in Reidsville, NC, and
  The Spotted Dog, in Carrboro, NC; Southern Recess makes them mighty fine, to be sure, but I
  don't think they're quite up to my favorites.
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        Footbridge over Jesse Jewell Parkway. Last time here, I found a cache
        there; it's now closed for construction at either end.  | 
    
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| A remnant of the picturesque past: the Hall County courthouse in downtown Gainesville | 
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| Dinner destination: Southern Recess Gastro Pub on Bradford Street | 
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| Martini plus fish & chips equals all kinds of happy | 
  After dinner, on my walk back to the hotel, I stopped at a nearby parking
  garage to hunt a cache —
  "Jury Duty" (GCGKYT) — which I had sought on an earlier trip, but without success. This time, I
  found the little monster. I love the fact that, after all these years, the
  cache is still in place and in decent condition. With a fine dinner and
  excellent drink under my belt, not to mention having claimed a difficult
  cache, I count the evening as most pleasing.
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| View from the parking garage while hunting "Jury Duty" | 
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| A lovely night in Gainesville, viewed from on high | 
  Tuesday, March 1, 2022: Good Eats, Achy Feetz
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        Cache log with my signature—and the sigs of some fellow cachers from back home.  | 
    
  Apparently, I was exhausted after the previous day's rigors, for I
  enjoyed a nine-hour, unbroken night's sleep, which virtually
  never happens these days. Upon waking, I made myself a couple of
  barrels of coffee, took a shower, and ventured out into the ungodly traffic
  nightmare that Gainesville has become. Judas F'ing Priest, what a change from
  the days when I knew Gainesville best. From the time I was very small, through my college days, and for some years beyond, Gainesville was a serene, picturesque town with a fantastic, if relaxed, quality of life; it's
  now bustling insanity, with traffic gridlock day in and day out, and
  scarcely a square foot of land that hasn't been overdeveloped. To be fair, a
  reasonable sampling of the town's innate loveliness remains, yet getting to it has become an experiment in how much burgeoning humanity a sane
  person's patience can stand. My god... how anyone can live in such a monstrous
  maze of endless gridlock is beyond me. I know that this is very subjective,
  but I grieve, deeply, for the loss of the singular, uplifting character that
  once defined this town. It's now a bedroom community of Atlanta, with a
  handful of the amenities but all of the nightmares of overcrowded urbania. It
  sickens me.
  Now that I've ranted about the seven hells of overpopulation, let's get back
  to some happier doings. After my morning's refurbishment, out I went among the
  natives to the nearest Publix and picked up a few staples — mainly
  coffee and coffee accouterments, which the hotel doesn't provide, at least in
  any sufficiency, plus lunch things, so I don't have to eat out every meal.
  Then... I grabbed a few geocaches, some way out Thompson Bridge Road, some
  close in to town. Yes, I did this thing. It was neat as can be to find, on a
  few of the cache logs, the signatures of some good friends and fellow
  geocachers from back home.
  Before packing it in for the afternoon, I revisited Ivey Terrace Park and my
  grandparents' old place, where I scattered some of Phred's ashes. I know he
  desired this.
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        The little springhouse at Ivey Terrace Park. It's been there since my
        mom was a kid, and my brother and I both played here when we were little. I scattered some of his ashes around it.  | 
    
  Back at the hotel, I cobbled together lunch from the goodies I'd picked up at
  the store. Then I paid a visit to my cousin, Mark Bell (Jr.), whom I
  haven't seen in many years. He and my mom were near in age and regularly kept
  in touch until Mom's health precluded it. It was a wonderful, revitalizing
  time for me — a reminder of the days when I had a relatively large, close
  extended family. That is, sadly, a time now gone.
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        A wonderful jalapeno margarita at Tino's Mexican Restaurant  | 
    
  I did a little more geocaching before returning to the hotel for a bit of
  recuperation (the caching has been rigorous, I can tell you). For dinner, I
  opted to try
  Tino's Tex-Mex Restaurant, right here at the hotel, and it was a fine choice. I had fantastic beef
  brisket tacos and a right large jalapeno margarita. As it is with most Mexican
  restaurants, there wasn't much tequila in the drink, but that was actually
  fine by me, for I had plenty of high-octane drink waiting for me in my hotel
  room. However... before returning, I went out on what turned out to be a
  long (roughly three-mile) walk after the stages of an Adventure Lab cache.
  This proved both exhilarating and bloody frustrating. I found all but one of
  the stages, but that one...whew! I couldn't find it tonight, and I don't know
  whether I'll be able to tomorrow. We shall see, we shall. But I did see some
  cool sights, including what has to be Gainesville's most haunted
  house. I feel like I might have even brought a horrible ghost back with me,
  just from walking by it. I gotta say... I love it!
And then... exhaustion set in. G'night and G'bless.
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| Exceptional brisket tacos at Tino's Tex-Mex Restaurant in Gainesville | 
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| Do not tell me this place is not haunted. It is haunted. | 
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| "Love Freedom," a massive mural at one of the geocache stages I visited this evening | 
Wednesday, March 2, 2022: The Haunted Lake
  If, some years ago, I hadn't read online about the legends of "haunted" Lake
  Sidney Lanier, I'd have never suspected the lake had such a reputation. I
  spent a lot of time at Lake Lanier in my youth and knew quite a few people in
  the vicinity; the subject of ghostly happenings out there never came up.
  Lake Lanier is a massive recreation area, and I suspect the majority of folks
  who use it aren't really aware of its dark reputation. No matter, for in Georgia: The Haunting of Tate's Mill, there will be ghostly events aplenty, and if the characters didn't
  know about the possibility of such otherworldly shenanigans from the start...
  well... that's on them.
  The first thing I did this morning — after coffee and a breakfast bar — was
  head out Cleveland Highway to the site of Old Bell's Mill, which was quite
  well known in its day (I wrote a bit about Bell's Mill and how it relates to
  my Ameri-Scares novel
  here). Here, I didn't hunt geocaches, but I scoped out the precise area that I
  have fictionalized for the book and took a bunch of photos. This will come in
  handy in fine-tuning my descriptions of the setting, which I do try to paint
  as accurately as possible. The whole point of the books is to capture at least
  a modicum of local color, and I'm glad to have been able to spend quality time
  at three of the five locations in my series novels.
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| The site of Old Bell's Mill... as near as one can get to it | 
  Afterward, I did go geocache hunting, of course. I finished up a couple of
  Adventure Lab caches I had begun last night, hunted their associated bonus
  caches, and went after a bunch of hides on Gainesville’s north and east sides —
  some woodland hides that required negotiating moderate to tough terrain, and
  some typical urban hides that required stopping the car, jumping out, and
  signing the cache log. I broke for lunch — a chicken salad sandwich, from the
  supplies I bought yesterday — and then, after logging my morning's finds,
  headed right back out. This afternoon, I headed south and west, out
  Dawsonville Highway, and found another bunch, mostly urban park & grabs.
  The only trail hide, near Gainesville High School, I was unable to find. I
  sort of suspect it's missing... or I may just have missed it. One's as likely
  as the other, I suppose. Being out and about and fighting the fucking
  Gainesville traffic just about sent me over the edge — again. Far as I'm
  concerned, there's just no excuse for this much goddamn humanity in a small
  town.
Tonight, I discovered dinner at 37 Main, a bar with fair character and lots of specials. I went early to beat the crowd (tonight is "Trivia Wednesday"), but — little did I know — it was happy hour, where everything is half price. So, I ended up with excellent chicken wings and a very fine gin martini for $10 (of course, I tipped very well, as the service was great). I've been doing my best to keep costs very low on this trip, and this bit of good luck helped quite a bit.
  Tomorrow, I anticipate hitting the road as soon as I'm up and packed — after
  rush hour, inasmuch as rush hour actually lets up here.
  This ruination of a beautiful small town by too many motherfucking people is
  the one thing that hurts me to my soul. All my life, I loved this town, its
  character, its superb quality of living — which didn't involve fighting
  big-city congestion in a place that was never, ever in a million years designed for
  this kind of population explosion. There was a time I actually considered
  living here. I couldn't do it now. It would literally kill me. And that really
  hurts.
  Otherwise... I made for myself an excellent time here, and in some ways, I'm
  sorry I can't spend more time here. I did find several little slices of
  the best of life that Gainesville offered long ago. I sure hope it can hang
  onto those. I suspect it won't be long, though, before they are razed, and all
  we see is more people, more scars upon the land. Never have John Denver's
  lyrics hit so close to home.
Peace out.
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| 37 Main from my table vantage point | 
| The old football field behind Gainesville Civic Center. When I was a kid, my grandfather brought me to many Gainesville High School football games here.  |