Just kidding. But this Harvest Host stay is thanks to a southern version of David’s store in Schitt’s Creek. A very sweet-seeming couple has renovated a garage here in southern Georgia into a high-end general store, and they specialize in artisanal oils from their farm.
This seems to be a trend in farming that we see thanks to Harvest Hosts: small farms that need to find a way to stay in business will turn their traditional crops into “artisinal” products, then let people camp on their land, which is in such high demand.
This afternoon, we pulled into the store parking area to meet the owners and spend a bit of obligatory cash with them. Harvest Hosts locations get listed in the camping directory only and don’t get money from the organization; they profit from the arrangement if campers who stay with them also spend money with them. These guys make sure that happens—we couldn’t get to the farm to park until we walked through their store.
Other than the no-masks problem we see so many places, the store does have adorable merchandise I could imagine David selling, from hand-cut tree-trunk cutting boards to local feta in tubs. I bought this trio of oils made from their crops.
After the retail stage, we were led down a long dirt road with farms on either side to this field of pecan trees and told to park anywhere that suited. It all suits!
The only problem is that they’ve spread a natural fertilizer on the fields, so I have to keep grabbing hunks of manure out of Banjo’s mouth before she swallows them. She’s very excited by the manual hunt. Thank goodness I grew up with horses (this is cow manure, I’m thinking, but equally non-offensive as long as you wash your hands).
See the big trees we’re parked under? Pecans!
Tracy has been on the lookout for free fruit throughout Florida, and he hasn’t gotten over that time a raccoon stole the coconuts we picked up while biking. I think this place more than makes up for it. Both trees have been dropped pecans for years; you can tell what season individual nuts are by their size.
We filled Tracy’s infamous bait bucket that he puts on display at the front of the trailer at each campsite. (Like other people display signs with their names and home states on them, he keeps the bait bucket handy to clean dirt off the trailer.) The bait bucket pecans are for later; tonight we’re snacking on a bowlful as we sit outside, watching the sunset and the evening birds.
We’re totally ignoring the occasional farmer/farm family member blaring by on the dirt road, nefarious flags waving from their ATVs and loud music aimed at us, I’m thinking. We may be alien, but David said we could stay here!
And it sure is pretty.
Uke Segment
Okay, I only started playing this song last night, but I played it basically nonstop on the five-hour drive between campsites today (to Tracy’s delight, I’m sure), so here’s my one-day-in version. I’m posting this, as usual, because it shows off where we are.
Our dogs love the manure too, Ollie was in heaven on my brother/sister-in-law’s sheep farm and Baxter discovered rabbit poo a couple of months ago and had to be put on a leash. The rabbit poo made him quite sick but the sheep poo seemed to be ok. Neither seem that interested in horse poo but the retriever at the stables eats quantities of it 😝 Also, pecans! And you have a nice voice.
It’s funny – I grew up with horse manure, and none of the dogs was interested. I love your “poo.” And that is a sweet comment about my voice. 🙂
That looks like a good place.