Thursday, March 30, 2006

See Rock City

Many years ago I lived just outside of the town of Scottsboro. Scottsboro is the county seat of Jackson County, in the northeast corner of Alabama and is a dry county. Now, that was one little bit of information they neglected to tell me when I took the job and moved from my home in the Sonoran Desert in Arizona, where, I believe, a good supply of cold beer is a county requirement to prevent dehydration. I cannot say for sure that the local Sheriff would issue a citation for not having any beer on hand; as such a calamity was never to befall me.

But a dry county was something I have never had to deal with in all my travels. I was told by a few friendly locals, that I could visit a local bootlegger and pay nearly three-times the going rate for beer in legal counties, and the bootleggers only offered that colorless, tasteless swill that has offended American palates since the demise of regional brewers (Boy, do I miss Balentine IPA and National Bohemian). My other option was to travel 60 miles to the next county and buy the same swill legally. The local law allowed one to bring a single six-pack from another Alabama county. Or to cross the border into Tennessee and bring back all the wonderful amber liquid I wished, illegally. The problem with that option was that the sheriff had deputies stationed at each road crossing into Tennessee and stopped all vehicles on the return trip.

My good friend Rex, a fellow gypsy and beer lover, devised the solution. We would drive up to Tennessee, bypassing the traps and beer halls along the border and head for Chattanooga, where we would purchase sufficient quantities for the week. Then we aimed our pick-up south for Georgia, sticking to the backroads. When we got to Rising Fawn we stopped at the feed store and bought a couple bales of hay to keep the sun and prying eyes off our cargo. Head west and up onto Sand Mountain and the Alabama line. No deputy at the crossing from Georgia, it was a dry county also! The whole trip took well over four hours, but was well worth it.

We always had plenty of good, cold beer to share and hay bales for everyone to sit on while we told our story.

The Lone Mountain Band are from Chattanooga, Tennessee and buy their beer locally.

The Lone Mountain Band - Ten Mile Tennessee.mp3

The Lone Mountain Band - Highway of Regret.mp3

The Lone Mountain Band - Oh My Little Darling.mp3

Buy some here

Have a good weekend, Ya'll!


Anonymous homer simpson said...


March 30, 2006 11:16 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Well Ed as you know that is still where I call home, Don't get to get back up there much though.
I know you will be glad to hear that Scottsboro is wet now and I think even Fort Payne too but the rest of
the place is still dry and the bootleggers are still doing a bang up business. For all of the bus riders
that have never experienced a trip to the bootlegger, when you pull in the front yard and walk up on the front
porch making sure that you don't fall through the holes and opening up the door and seeing 12 dog's on the furniture
and 12 kids on the floor. But what made it ok was all of the beautiful scenery, places like bucks pocket or high falls
where you could go and sit on the rocks and look at the mountains.
Oh yea good choices once again.
Have a good weekend your self


March 31, 2006 7:32 AM  
Blogger Ed said...

Ah, Joey, I've got lots of good memories of that area. Glad to hear Scottboro has gone wet. I'd like to get back there sometime.

March 31, 2006 8:23 AM  
Anonymous Lucy said...

Don't think I've ever been in a dry county for any length of time; if I was, we had enough of our prefered beverage with us (never leave home without it!) that I didn't notice.

Ed, I knew you wouldn't let a little thing like "the law" get in the way between you and the "wonderful amber liquid".

Great tunes as always. Have a good weekend fellow riders. Ed, don't pull anything vital "wrestling" with Zac’s car.

March 31, 2006 8:50 AM  
Blogger Ed said...

Thanks Lucy. Another beautiful weekend, and I'm working on cars again. One of these days we'll get to the river.

March 31, 2006 1:28 PM  
Anonymous Bob Linn said...

I loved your comment about northeast Bama. I live in northwest Georgia in Gordon County which was dry during my youth. My mother had a recipe that called for rum, so she and a friend, dressed up and headed for Chattanooga. I was along, but had to stay in the car. They went to Orbit Liquors on Braoad Street, out near St. Elmo. Mother said the clerk was so startled to see them that he acted as if they were royalty. I think my first taste of demon alcohol was from that bottle. also, my dad spent an evening drunk in Rising Fawn waiting for friends to pick him up. He taught school on Lookout Mountain during the Depression and was once tricked into helping some old boys run off abatch from their still.

March 31, 2006 4:25 PM  
Blogger Ed said...

Great stories Bob! I suppose we all will go out of our way if we want something bad enough.
Sounds like your dad had him a little sample or two while he was helping those fellas!

March 31, 2006 8:58 PM  
Blogger countrygrrl said...

fab music...we are enjoying smoke free scotland and it is fantastic..been out having a few drams and the odd bottle of nectar...pubs are a whole new a musician i know how good it feels..

April 01, 2006 1:42 PM  

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