Trailheads Propose Amputating Trail Master’s Leg, Feast At Community Q BBQ, And Roy Becomes A Model.

Every Trailheads hike begins with an important question: what’s your flavor today? Trail Master Guy keeps a well-stocked case of gum in his Jeep and kindly offers his hikers their choice of flavorful chews to snap during hikes. Decisions, decisions.

Concerned lawmakers are drafting legislation to stop this chewing gum practice because they believe “These roaming loudmouths don’t need more exercise for their jaws and flapping lips. Trailheads need gag balls to keep their damn mouths shut.”

Fair enough, but we won’t obey your stinking laws no matter what. We’ll be lurking in the shadows, hoovering unfiltered Camels and snapping our gum. Maybe even blowing a bubble or two. We’re bad boys—deal with it.

Guy led George, Brad, and Patrick on a journey along the Morningside Nature Trail. Heavy rain hit the city yesterday, and this area was under a flash flood warning. Would we be washed away? Cue the dramatic music!

There was even a discussion of a $1.976 billion slush fund to buy scuba equipment for all hikers threatened by “the weaponized weather.” Patrick suggested the much lighter and less expensive snorkel solution. This was met with generally agreeable mumbling.

The vegetation had exploded thanks to the rain. It was a jungle. We searched the tree line for vines and a swinging Tarzan, though if he was a swinger, he would probably be at a sex club. Don’t tell Jane or Cheetah. He’s very close to Cheetah.

Trailheads minded their steps on the slippery surfaces. The trail felt like it had been sprayed with WD-40, but no one fell. We miss Roy Tumbles. He would have taken a trip to the ground for us. That’s his superpower.

We reached the banks of the creek and noticed the water level was high. Elvis and Fio dove right in and enjoyed lapping the refreshing rainwater (although Fio is more partial to a Perrier on the rocks with a slice of lime, and Elvis likes his Maker’s and puddle water neat).

Trail master Guy was wearing shorts, and we noticed his legs– one was reddened. He said he’d recently had a cut that had become infected. His concerned fellow Trailheads sprang into action.

   “We need to amputate the infected leg immediately,” Dr. Brad said.

   “You fool,” Dr. George chastised. “Don’t you watch medical shows on TV? We medics say ‘stat’ instead of ‘immediately’ to save time. You can’t waste time with multiple-syllable words when a life hangs in the balance.”

   “But isn’t amputation a bit extreme?” the trail master asked. “I mean…”

   “Don’t worry,” Dr. Patrick said in his soothing bedside manner voice. “Limbs grow back fast. And if a new leg doesn’t appear, with proper rehabilitation, you’ll be back on the trails in no time. Imagine the money you’ll save on footwear.”

  “But I feel fine, really, and my leg’s healing,” Guy pleaded with tear-filled eyes.

   “Leave the medical procedures to us,” Dr. Brad said as Dr. George handed him the official Trailheads bone saw (it’s slightly rusty, but that doesn’t affect its cutting).

   Guy ran away and hid in the vegetation, wishing he had worn his big-boy pants today to hide his injury. 

When we found him, we posed for a selfie on the bridge. Guy pleaded with the medical team to save his leg, and we said we’d keep it under advisement, but maintain a close watch. We can saw bad bones stat. We’re all good at cutting. It’s the closing where we’re not so skilled. It brings our success rate down.

We snaked along the trails, noticed our hunger growing, and began backtracking. We told Roy our lunch plans, and he said he’d join us. Steve was out; the poor fellow was feeling under the weather.

As we navigated the wooden steps back to the parking lot, we dreamed of barbecue awaiting us across town.

Our lunch spot was a favorite, Community Q BBQ in Decatur (read about a recent visit here). Ravished Roy was already in line. Although he’s hung up his hiking boots, his eating shoes are always at the ready. We began talking to Liz, the lovely woman who keeps the joint running smoothly. She is a barbecue angel. George posed with her. 

We sat on the patio as trays of food were delivered. Trailheads did what they do best: make pigs of themselves.

The pulled pork was tender and tasty. A squirt or two of the flavorful barbecue sauce will transport you through the pearly swine gates.

We didn’t even have to ask for inside/outside. They served up tender pork insides and crunchy, smoky, barky outsides. And stacked the meat high. The way we like it.

Brad opted for the combo sandwich. Pork and brisket. A magical combo indeed.

George had the chicken sandwich: half a smoked bird resting between slabs of Texas Toast. He said it was mighty fine.

The sides are stellar. Community Q’s slaw is a top-tier cabbage patch concoction.

The black-eyed peas are righteous, hearty, and bursting with good luck (they’re not just for New Year’s Day).

The tater salad is the real deal. It’s the kind of dish you’ll find at your Uncle Lou and Aunt Brenda’s annual picnic (which is always fun until Lou has had too many Canadian Clubs with Busch chasers, and Brenda recalls the many promising suitors she could have married). The Mac ‘n Cheese is also serious business. It’s big pasta pipes dripping with gooey, cheesy love.

The daily soup was a savory smoked chicken and wild rice with coconut milk (a Thai barbecue influence?). It was comforting and delicious.

Brad had a wrapped gift for Roy. We wondered what it was. Patrick speculated it might be a pony, but then he remembered that ponies aren’t usually rectangular. We were beginning to wonder whether Patrick’s really a medical doctor. He’s quite daft.

Roy unwrapped his present, and it was a wonderful portrait Brad had painted of the patron saint of trail tumbling, seated in an egg-shaped chair. We gushed over Brad’s talent. He has become quite the artist.

The brush-meister posed with his subject, and photos were snapped. 

Dr. Brad informed the trail master that he could also paint Guy’s portrait, but he’d prefer waiting until after the patient’s amputation to save on paint.

Our new pal Liz was kind enough to take our picture before we scattered to the four winds before the afternoon rains arrived.

Rating: Four Ribs*

Community Q BBQ

1361 Clairmont Rd

Decatur, GA 30033

(404) 633-2080

communityqbbq.com

*About Our Barbecue Rating System

Trailheads do not claim to be food experts, epicureans, or sophisticated palates. We are hungry hikers who attack a selected barbecue venue and ravage our way through whatever smoked fare and fixings they're dishing out. nj Ounr reviews feature what we believe are the highlights of the menu we sampled. So our intent is not to trash talk the saintly folks who tend to smoldering smokers on hot, humid summer days. They are sacrificing themselves in the noble art of smoking meats and feeding the drooling masses. Many are independent entrepreneurs who are the backbone of this humming American economy. Now that you know our standards, you may wonder why every barbecue place gets a four-ribs rating. The answer is easy: our group has acclaimed designers, and they think the ribs graphic looks cool. Who are we to argue? Enjoy.

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