pork rinds + whiskey

we spent a storybook weekend camping at a bluegrass festival and farm called Foggy Hollow.  or if you are a local, you say it more like:  Fawgyhalla.

it's between Gadsden and Anniston in east Alabama where the roads lose names and become route numbers, pavement turns to dirt and reception to any of the outside world fades.

our friends drake + alex grew up going to Foggy Hollow twice a year, so after hearing a ton of stories and with the upcoming summer festival date upon us, we couldn't pass up the chance. my brother josh drove over from the farm in georgia to pick a little and hang out too.

we set up camp among hundreds of other folks. many in elite campers who obviously spend most of the year traveling the country and lots of us in good ole pop up tents. we had an air mattress, quilts, lanterns, beer & yoohoo, smores, hot dogs and a campfire that never quit. 

we listened to music on the big stage. bluegrass, gospel, jug band and folk. there was music everywhere. impromptu jam sessions at every turn.  old ladies rocking out on stand up bases, mountain men on acoustic guitars harmonizing with a young hipster bringin a banjo to life. music happened at our site too.

we sang a lot of our favorites. strangers showed up and played their originals, too. we made up songs that we'll never remember. the feeling that i was living in a different place in time danced in my eyes but i couldn't stop trying to capture the feeling of what it would be like to be a kid at foggy hollow.  there were story times, clowns, parades and fishing. i saw the delight in each of their faces, delight in a life...a weekend of life lived simply.

but y'all. what i'll remember as much as anything was the kettle corn. seriously. i was obsessed with it and ate multiple bags a gracious amount. the food vendors were sweet country folks who'd been serving foggy hollow for over 30 years; there was corn on the cob {slathered in butter}, boiled peanuts from alex's ex pawpaw, funnel cakes, fresh lemonade and deer jerky. i mean does it get any better than that?

our last night there we headed to the final show on the big stage when a storm rolled it. it rolled in and rolled over us. we huddled under our pavilion tent and had some of the funniest times of late. we LAUGHED a lot. played music, sang songs and talked about the most ridiculous of things right along with a handful of thoughts that mattered.

as the rain poured down and lighting struck around, we made up a little tune we called pork rinds + whiskey. it was a masterpiece in its own right.  it spoke of our foggy hollow experience, of the moment with each other and the conditions we couldn't control but embraced completely.

i wish we could remember it. 
even one consistent verse. because it was the best told story in our most authentic voices.  voices filled with joy, exhaustion, wild abandon, friendship, and summer rainwater.
  

fawggyhalla is a special place. a place & spirit that rarely exists anymore but that I hope will never die.  it's americana, it's southern, it's community.  it was just right and met my two night camping limit ;) 

lookin forwrd to the next toe-tappin good time in the "halla".