It's still a couple of days before the official start of autumn, but a few trees were already putting on their fall colors Sunday morning when Wiley Coyote offered to lead us to his secret retreat on the west slope of Burnt Mountain, deep in north Georgia's Chattahoochee National Forest.

There were four of us: me, ol' Joe of the Jungle, Wiley and his son Christopher.

We made a quick stop about 8:30 a.m. at the local Waffle House for a chat with the lovely Alice Lou (our quarter-ton patron goddess of adventure, research and educational tree climbers everywhere), and then we headed northwest into the mountains.

We drove about 900 miles in one direction, turned right and went another 200 to 300 miles on a narrow one-and-a-half lane road, made a right onto another one-lane paved road and followed it for about 150 kilometers until it turned to gravel -- and then to dirt -- and then through the creek (just to wash the dust off the tires, of course) -- and then right -- and then left through the gate -- and then up the hill through another gate -- and then up the steeeper hill through a third gate -- and then up the slope that looked to be nearly 90 degrees straight up.

Suddenly, we were at Wiley's private piece of heavily wooded paradise.

Let's just say that there are enough good hardwoods on his little mountain hideaway to satisfy just about any tree climber. Everybody picked their own and climbed, and then we switched trees and climbed again, and again.

The day finally ended with a stop at a very excellent dining spot where the smell of hickory smoke promised what turned out to be excellent barbecue dinners complete with slaw and all the trimmings and good southern-style veggies.

What a day! WHAT A GRR-REAT DAY!

Are you sure about those directions!

I didn't see that part where you shot yourselves across the canyon strap-ed to the rocket... with an anvil on one end.

Hey, if those are the directions WildBill gave, then they can't be wrong. Rumor has it that both he and Ol' Joe of the Jungle are the best direction givers this side of the 'Bama line.

Old Timer, I believe that Wild Bill intentionally left out the part about the rocket so as not to discourage any future visits from other climbers. Really, the egress is not all THAT bad and you only have to ford the creek twice before crossing the chasm and getting to the hard part. However, after visiting Alice Lou ANYTHING is possible and it was a very lovely day for a climb. Everybody got to climb in a "never before climbed" tree or two with plenty more trees available for future exploration. Not every tree on my place has an incredible view of the surrounding mountains, but there are enough that do to make the trek worth while. In between playing host, I managed a 65' setting in a tall hickory just to the side of the hollow and SRTed up on an Eddy YoYo rig on PI rope. Afterwards, I took a short break to wander up the hill to spray a patch of Poison Ivy that I've been meaning to get to for several months. It seemed like a good time since the Bloodroots, Triliums and other wild flowers have pretty much died back making the possibility of colateral damage less likely in my efforts to temporarily beat back the poison ivy vines. Sorry there are no photos, but I forgot the camera at home and was too busy to remember to shoot any if I had taken it with. All in all, a good time was had by all and our efforts were well rewarded with some very excellant pulled pork BBQ afterwards. I hope a few other climbers in the Atlanta area can join us on future outings.
Wiley Coyote

We didn't need no stinkin' rocket...! I know that only a select few climbers have ever laid eyes on Wiley's incredibly impressive black-powder mortar, so I'll have to explain -- it can fire a throw line (steel leader needed) about a thousand meters up the steepest mountains, across the deepest chasms, through the thickest tangle of briar-laced underbrush, and over the tallest forest canopy. Our method on this particular expedition into the wilds of north Georgia was to tie a 10.5mm climbing rope to the anvil and ol' Joe of the Jungle, drop both into the mortar tube, add an extra pinch or two of gun powder, and watch in awe as Joe and the anvil sailed effortlessly across the canyon while trailing a perfectly suitable traversing line.

SSSHHHH, Wild Bill. We don't want to give away too many secret techniques yet. I think maybe next time we should shoot the anvil across first, THEN shoot Joe over. I believe we knocked a chunck out of the anvil when it hit ole' Joe in the head. And that was my favorite anvil too. We'll just have to wait until Joe can remember who he is to get a report about how it felt launching across the gorge like that.
Wiley coyote