See Rock City
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.
Buy some here
Have a good weekend, Ya'll!