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My Eagle scout friend Jody (whose ceremony I attended nearly 30 years ago) planned a family camping trip to Cloudland Canyon State Park in northwest GA for his birthday weekend, so being a good friend, I invited myself (plus my 3 children, wife, and dog) to join. We enjoyed it so much that a couple weekends later, we did it again, this time at DeSoto State Park by Fort Payne, Alabama (just east of Rome, GA), but this time, we didn’t bring dogs (but added our friend Jim Bob). So, after spending most of my 4+ decades not camping, we went twice in 4 weeks. Covid camping. Sounds illegal, right?

At Cloudland Canyon, we each had primitive sites on which to erect our tents (his family’s site was about a half mile through the woods from ours), so we set up our big tent for the children, and the smaller dome for the 2 adults. That afternoon, we hiked about 7 miles around the rim of the canyon and to a waterfall that was supposed to be full of water but was instead just a trickle, thanks to the lack of rain in August. We enjoyed multiple vista viewing points and spending a few hours in nature on a quiet Saturday afternoon.

That evening, the 4 grownups had mason jars of cocktails my bride pre-mixed as the 5 children made s’mores, and it was a great way to bring in Jody’s 45th year.

A few weekends later, we drove up to DeSoto State park on a Friday afternoon. This time, it was my family of 5, Jody + his 2 daughters, and Jim Bob + his 3 children at a group site. We left the dogs at home but all brought mountain bikes, as this state park has lots of trails of varying levels of difficulty, and they can be accessed right from the primitive camp sites.

It was nearly dark when our family joined the others Friday evening (thanks to President Trump’s landing at Dobbins, where I needed to get for a generator and mountain bike rental), so we cooked some meat and had cocktails by the campfire til after 1am. When the children woke us before 6am, well, we were glad to have Deathwish coffee beans provide energy renewal.

We tried a group bike ride, but Jody’s tire blew on a particularly rocky section of the trail, so the kids rode, and the adults rotated riding with listening to college football at the campsite. I brought a couple smoked pork shoulders, and Jim Bob grilled wings at the picnic area down the gravel road from our site as Jody made the sauce, finishing just in time to watch the Alabama – Missouri game on the ipad.

Sunday, we struck camp and drove fifteen minutes south to Little River Canyon for a short hike, where I saw a van down by the river, and I missed the motivational talks Matt Foley used to give us on SNL.

Whenever I pause to think about things for which I’m grateful, having close relationships with my childhood friends is right up there behind having good health. I love that we can get together for a weekend in the woods with our children, sometimes with our dogs, sometimes with our spouses, and sometimes with bikes, but always with great food, laughter, and spirits. I love being able to create good memories and leave recharged for reentry into Real Life 2020.

I mean–look how happy all these children are! Considering they spent most of their free time constructing a tarped-off area behind their tents for pooping in the woods, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Pooping in the woods is fun, I hear! I wouldn’t know. My sphincter puts emotional barricades across my rear exit as soon as I start hammering in tent stakes, and such barricades stay until I return to my Japanese toilet with integrated bidet at home, whether it be a 2-day or 3-day weekend. Is just The Way of My Bowels. I’ve learned to accept it.

Hopefully, we can continue these short trips into the wild even as temperatures drop and leaves change (as long as I can get a signal for the Alabama games, of course). As fun as such time is in Summer, I love the prospect of going when bugs and lack of showering are less bothersome! And maybe…just maybe…if I practice the act of immersing in forest bathing enough, I too will be able to drop trou in the woods like my carefree children.

We saw the film “Muscle Shoals” earlier in the summer and decided we needed to go, much like we did with Yosemite after “Free Solo” last summer. On Friday of Labor Day weekend, we headed west on I-20 to Alabama.

We pulled off I-65 in Cullman to see something I’d seen on billboards for years but never stopped to see: Ave Maria Grotto. It’s where a Benedictine monk designed miniatures of cathedrals and other landmarks from all over the world out of unwanted recycled materials like shells, broken plates, stones, etc. It was about 45 minutes of walking among the little worlds he created nearly 100 years ago. We bought some fresh “monk bread” for the road and headed to Florence, arriving at the Rosenbaum House–the only Frank Lloyd Wright house in Alabama–an hour before it closed.

After checking into our hotel (we’d planned to camp along the Tennessee River but I couldn’t get my luggage rack to fit into my new car’s trailer hitch–something I probably should have tested before the morning of our trip), we went into downtown Florence, where I really wanted to see the “alpha chapter” of my favorite clothier, Billy Reid. I’d planned to just look around, but they were having a 70% off sale, so I left with a new sport coat, dress boots, and 2 short-sleeved shirts. The person tending the store was Billy’s daughter, Abba, and we enjoyed talking to her about Florence, the annual “Shindig” party that Covid cancelled, and all the clothes that surrounded us. Here I am in one of the 2 new shirts plus some shorts I got at his Atlanta store last year:

We went up into the 360 Grill above the Marriott, where I can vaguely recall going when we visited Florence once in the ’80s (and is Alabama’s only rotating restaurant), and had dinner at Odette, a restaurant recommended by my friend Jody’s wife, who grew up in the area (it’s owned by a lady I met years ago in Atlanta at Gunshow; she went to school with my friend Angela; the world is small). It was great, but I’m glad we sat outside, as the next day, it was shut down after an employee tested positive for Covid.

At dusk, we went to Mcfarland Park (where we’d planned to camp) and let my son fish a bit while the rest of us watched the sun set over the Tennessee River. Then, the children swam in the Marriott’s pool while the parents enjoyed local beers. Once the little people were in bed, the two of us went to the hotel bar, called Swampers Bar and Grille, where the walls are covered with photographs of musicians who’d recorded in Muscle Shoals, and a couple guys with guitars sang covers for the socially distanced patrons until closing time. It was the first live music I’ve heard since seeing The Eagles at State Farm Arena in February, and I loved it, despite longing to exchange all the Ticketmaster refunds 2020 has given me to get back the experiences I thought I’d have this year.

Saturday morning after the impressive Big Bad Breakfast, we started our tour of Fame Recording Studios at 10am. An hour and a half later, we toured Muscle Shoals Sound Studios, which began when the Swampers, the session players from Fame, branched out to start a studio down the street.

Touring these places and hearing their lore was the highlight of the weekend. I loved seeing the piano Bob Seger played and where the roadie for Lynyrd Skynyrd composed “Free Bird,” the toilet where Keith Richards wrote “Wild Horses,” and where such acts as the Allman Brothers, Percy Sledge, Aretha Franklin, Paul Simon, and many, many others recorded some of their greatest hits or their break out hits (or both!).

The tours were very different, even if the subject matter was nearly identical. The guide at Fame was younger, and was certainly passionate about music and all the history of the still-active recording studio (in fact, someone was mixing in the upper room behind glass as we toured), but he seemed a bit tired or hung over during his tour, as he struggled to find his words at times. That said, I loved when he played some of the more recognizable tracks that were recorded where we stood in Studio A as the artists looked down from autographed photos on the walls above. It was magical.

At the next studio, the guide was an older gentleman who actually knew the Swampers and witnessed their storied decades of producing hit after hit after hit. In fact, 70% of the records recorded there made it to the Top 40, whereas other studios consider 20% a success. He also had a great sense of humor, and anecdotes such as the one about Keith Richards’ writing from the bathroom were plentiful.

The recording studios in Muscle Shoals are hallowed ground. Watch the film. Take the trip.

After our studio tours, we got ice cream at Trowbridge’s, which has been serving sandwiches and ice cream since 1918, and they still taste great on a socially distanced Labor Day weekend. We tried to hit the Alabama Music Hall of Fame and the W.C. Handy Museum, but both were closed for Covid/Labor Day weekend.

We were able to go to Helen Keller’s childhood home and see where she learned from Annie Sullivan (whom my bride played in a 7th grade performance of “The Miracle Worker”), and it was an inspiration to us all.

Then, we pressed westward to Memphis, checking into the historic Peabody Hotel and walking a half block for some famous Rendezvous ribs, which were every bit as delicious as I remembered them being.

After the children went to bed, the grownups walked over to Beale Street, which I’d last experienced on New Year’s Eve 1997. It was…different. There was a decent crowd, but they were in masks, and dozens of mounted policeman on horses flanked the crowds as if they expected something bad to happen. The bars had to stop serving at 10pm, which was only a few minutes after we stepped onto the street, so our time was limited and more reserved than I’d hoped for.

The next morning was Sunday, and we surprised our son (a couple weeks before his birthday) with getting to be honorary “Duckmaster” for the famous procession of mallards from the roof of the hotel, onto the elevator, and across red carpet leading to the fountain in the middle of the hotel lobby. He loved it.

Then, we were off to Graceland to expose our children to 1970s decor and wonderful amounts of kitsch.

We loved learning about Elvis and touring the expanded museum and artifacts they’ve added; we bought lots of souvenirs at the myriad gift shops. Dinner was more BBQ at Blues City Cafe, and then the 5 of us walked across the street to B.B. King’s Blues Club for awesome live music on Beale Street. Later that evening, the adults went to a speakeasy called Blind Bear.

On Monday, we toured Sun Studio as soon as it opened, and we saw where Johnny Cash, Elvis, U2, and many other artists recorded. The tour guide was excellent, and when our time there was finished, he suggested Sunrise for breakfast, which was delicious (and worth the wait in line).

We went into the Memphis Pyramid, which is now a giant Bass Pro Shop, and took the elevator to the observation deck to look out at the mighty Mississippi before beginning our drive back toward Atlanta.

We stopped at Natchez Trace Parkway and let the children complete its junior ranger program, hiked a bit of the scenic trail, made a brief stop at the Tupelo National Battlefield so I could justify the cancellation in my national parks passport book, and then headed east on I-26 to Birmingham, where we met Jim Bob and his family for dinner at Back Forty Beer Company. Other than killing a coyote on I-20 toward Atlanta several hours later, the trip home was pleasant, as we listened to “Coraline” and “When You Reach Me” on Audible.

This was an awesome road trip. We only planned it a couple months before leaving, and aspects of it were certainly limited by the pandemic, but it made me want to return to Florence next summer for “Shindig” if everything’s open again to see the places that were closed and enjoy more live music, great food, and the magic that created the famous “Muscle Shoals sound” when crowds can gather once again.

If you’re anywhere in the Southeast, this rock and roll road trip is a great way to spend a holiday weekend!

I haven’t flown on a non-Delta aircraft in over a decade, but when a travel newsletter I get said American had round-trip flights to Chicago for $49 a few months ago, I bought 5 for the weekend of Sept. 11. Why that date and that city?

In 1997, I graduated from Alabama and moved to Atlanta to begin working at IBM. I didn’t have any friends in Atlanta, so when a guy named Jesse showed up at my hotel room during an out of town training class and introduced himself as my roommate, I was glad to have a new work friend who’d also grown up in the South and graduated fairly recently from Ga Tech. He later told me the emails I sent my friends from college in the voice of Civil War Generals describing our time in the “real world” as if we were navigating battles were “weird,” but we bonded anyway, and we stayed in touch even after I left to go to law school, and he left to get his MBA.

Shortly after I met my bride in 2005, Jesse sent me a wedding invitation in Chicago, and I took her with me. We loved the city and all we got to see and do there that weekend. In fact, my bride has a framed photo next to her side of the bed of the 2 of us atop the Hancock Tower in the Signature Lounge from that trip. Ten years later, I had a legal conference in town, and we took our children for a 4-day weekend, and we loved the city once again (and got to spend time with Jesse’s girl, Liz). So, when this deal came for my bride’s birthday, I got 5 tickets, so that we could spend her birthday in the city where we may very well have decided we loved each other.

American does not appear to prioritize flying safely during Covid quite as well as Delta has. On our 3 flights with Delta since mid-March, we were spaced apart, boarded from back to front, and were handed bags of water, hand sanitizer, and snacks as we entered the fuselage. Middle seats were empty. On American, we seemed to board like we’d have boarded in 2019, and the plane was packed. I was glad it was a short flight. Having learned many flights ago that I can’t wear glasses + a mask and expect to read on a plane, we downloaded a David Sedaris book on Audible and listened together on paired headphones (via our new Airfly device!), so I could keep my foggy glasses in their case.

After our hotel room was cancelled by Covid, my OG friend from blogging, Jim, gave us his apartment for the weekend, so after meeting him briefly for a tour, we headed to the Art Institute for our best Ferris /Sloane/Cameron impression.

That night, the children got Portillo’s hot dogs delivered to Jim’s apartment, and the Mrs. and I went to our reserved time at The Aviary. I learned about it a few years ago via a podcast with the co-owner/creator, and we went to its New York version last December, where I named it one of my top 5 bars in the world. My bride bought me its beautiful cocktail book for my birthday in June; now it was time to experience it.

We opted for the “5-course cocktail tasting menu with paired food,” and it was absolutely amazing: perfect combination of theater, “snacktivity,” and epicurean delight rolled into a couple hours.

We then walked over to Sushi Dokku (a suggestion by Jim’s son, Kevin) for a bit, until the city’s mandated restaurants’ closure time of 11, a lesson we learned by taking Uber to other places Jesse or Kevin had suggested and realizing they were all closed.

The next morning, we went to the Field Museum to see Sue and other animals / exhibits before meeting Jim, his son Kevin, and Kevin’s girlfriend for deep dish pizza at Lou Malnati’s on the patio before returning to the Field Museum and having an early dinner at Monteverde (we could only get a reservation at 3pm), one of the places Phil Rosenthal went during Season 3 of Somebody Feed Phil. It was absolutely delicious, and just as he did for us in New Orleans, Tokyo, Florence, and Venice, Phil steered us well for culinary exploration in yet another city. Afterward, we walked Millennium Park (but had to see “the bean” from a distance, as it was marked off for Covid) and tried to go atop the Chicago Athletic Association (like Phil did and Jesse suggested), but it too was closed for Covid.

That night, we enjoyed the sunset from the rooftop deck of Jim’s apartment, and then my bride and I went to The Office, the speakeasy tucked beneath The Aviary for some “dusty bottle” cocktails that were just as we remembered enjoying nearly a year ago in NYC.

Sunday morning, we had a 10am brunch reservation at Roister, the casual restaurant (but still with a Michelin Star) in the Alinea group, where I had the best chicken and waffles I have ever had (and believe me, I have sampled MANY chicken and waffle plates).

We met Jim again for goodbyes and to grab our suitcases. We had the Uber stop at Bric-a-Brac Records to explore nostalgic collectibles and buy some vinyl before catching our crowded flight home.

This trip included the best dining and drinks of any trip we’ve ever taken, yet it was one of the least expensive vacations we’ve ever had, as lodging and airfare were free or nearly free. I spent more time in a mask than I’ve spent in over 40 Halloweens combined, as Chicago does not mess around when it comes to demanding PPE indoors (including rideshare cars, airplanes, etc.), which grew more annoying with each day. We were happy to be back out of the Atlanta airport, in my personal vehicle, or inside our house Sunday afternoon, where we could be mask-free for a few hours for a change. We watched “The Fugitive” Sunday night so we could see more of the city in its “normal” state (as normal as watching Tommy Lee Jones chase Harrison Ford throughout its streets can be).

I love going to Chicago and that we got to give my bride a special birthday weekend that she loved, but I love it more when there’s no pandemic going on.