Today my friend Jenna and I road-tripped (a loose use of the term actually) out to one of our old favorite places. A park not too far from Athens, the home of our Alma Mater, but far enough to make me feel truly out in the boonies, away from it all. Known for possessing the longest covered bridge in all of the great state of Georgia, Watson Mill State Park has it all (I also use this term loosely). It does contain the ruins of an old mill, though, which, if you're a fan of ruins at all (and who wouldn't be), are borderline super fantastic.
There's also a dilapidated old driving bridge that spans one of the many small tributaries to the great Broad River. Time has stripped it down to its most enduring parts: support beams. Spanning the creek roughly 40 feet above the ground, I spent many an hour up there battling my life's (seemingly) insurmountable confrontations and challenging myself to overcome my fear of the (im)possible. (Really, all I got was a healthy dose of vertigo and a bit of a scare.)
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