We Scale Amicalola Falls Mountain, Leave A Man Behind, And Discover Four 41 BBQ In Canton.

Amicalola is a Cherokee word that means “Tumbling waters” in English. And, oh, does that water ever tumble—729 feet from the top of a mountain to the collection pool at the bottom! Amicalola Falls is the third-highest cascading waterfall east of the Mississippi River (and according to the song, that ol' Man River just keeps rollin’ along).

How does all that water get so high? Did the Cherokee install pumps?

All six Trailheads hiked Amicalola Falls this week, one of the most popular trails in the South, located 74 miles north of Atlanta. Although it was drizzling in the city, the skies cleared as we drove north to Amicalola State Park, which spans 829 acres of lush wilderness in the heart of the Chattahoochee National Forest. Well, maybe not the heart exactly, but certainly a lung. And you’ll need all the lungs you have for this hike.

There is a beautiful visitor center where you can buy snacks, food, and souvenirs while appreciating interesting displays on history and wildlife. From there, it’s an eight-mile hike to Springer Mountain, the southern terminus of the 2,193-mile Appalachian Trail. 

As Steve surveyed the trail map, Patrick whispered to him to “knock it off” before he gave Trail Master Guy any ideas about a future hike to Maine. The thought of our group on that epic journey is a vision of hell. Even driving it would be a disaster, as Elvis and Fio would insist on some time behind the wheel.

Since Amicalola Falls is located in Dawsonville, "The Birthplace of Moonshine and NASCAR," there's a display of a genuine pot liquor still (sorry, it’s dry; we've checked). You're probably wondering how illegal booze is connected to NASCAR. The moonshiners in the woods souped up their Ford Coupes to deliver their white lightning to thirsty customers, but they had to outrun the pesky revenuers. Was this the first instance of chasers after a strong drink? Probably.

For kicks, on weekends, the bootleg hootch drivers raced each other in front of spectators. As the sport grew in popularity, Bill France Sr. designed a racecourse in Daytona Beach in 1930, and a sport was born. Fascinating, right?

As we gathered in the parking lot, Trail Master gave one of his hats to Brad, who immediately remarked that the adjustable band was set to the maximum position to accommodate Guy’s enormous gourd.

The two men quickly threw down and exchanged blows for sixteen minutes. Bored by this battle of the titans, the other Trailheads did calisthenics and stretching exercises to limber up before heading out for our hike. Anyone who knows us knows this is complete B.S., but it does add spice to the story.

Off we marched to find the trail leading up to the Falls. It was great to have Roy back, who had been suffering from painful plantar fasciitis while traveling in Scotland. We posed for a group shot.

This hike is breathtakingly beautiful, and we stopped to take in the sights. The sights looked back, which was unexpected, but we rolled with it.

We encountered a family of Mennonites from Mississippi (an excellent name for a band) who were fishing in the pond at the base of the Falls. They were friendly, and we wished them luck in catching some fish. 

Along the way, a turtle looked up at us.

“Hey, it’s the Trailheads,” he said. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you posers only did easy training wheel hikes.”

We ignored the insulting reptile. Why do turtles have to be so nasty?

We continued our expedition as Fio explored a small waterfall. She also does a bit of spelunking, rappelling, and some free climbing when we’re not watching her. 

Roy took a break and sat beside the Bradspreading Brad. Elvis looked away, feeling embarrassed. 

Trail Master wrangled his troops and moved us along. We approached a sign informing us that there was a stairway to heaven ahead, and it would be strenuous. We didn’t doubt that reaching heaven would be difficult for us, but we were ready for the challenge. Before we started, we looked for an escalator or elevator but found neither. We’d have to make our ascent manually (or is it footally?). Earlier, Patrick was almost thrown out of the visitor center when he demanded to know where to buy tickets for the chairlift.

We huffed and puffed our way up the sturdy staircase. Elvis complained that his hip was sore; we told the dog to tough it out––we’re Trailheads, dammit!

At the first summit, Guy, Roy, and George posed for a pic together since they all wore the same shirt design. Note the differences in the shirt designs. Our branding is consistently inconsistent.

Then we asked a friendly stranger to snap a group shot, perfect for framing or burning. 

Guy said we needed solo shots of us looking heroic. We did our best.

We reached the next stage of the ascent, and a sign informed us that the 425 steps ahead were “strenuous.” Trail Master checked on Roy’s condition. While he was still alive, his plantar fasciitis had flared up. So, we called an audible and avoided the steps to march up the hill on the road. Patrick described the ascent as "arduous," flaunting his vocabulary after just finishing the first draft of a new novel (which doesn't contain fancy words).

Trailheads reached the top of Amicalola Falls, and it was worth the effort. We took pictures like tourists just off the bus, eager to capture the moment. 

To prove we made it, a kind, retired cop took our picture. (With our rap sheets, we feel much more comfortable around retired cops than the active duty officers.) He probably later issued an APB warning that we were in the area. 

Roy was exhausted. His foot was now fully revolting against him, so we told him to stay and rest–we would come back in the car and pick him up. He loved that idea. We parked him in a suitable spot.

We didn’t tell him we were using him as bear bait.

While he rested, we followed the trail down. No stairs for us! It was a pleasant journey beneath a lush canopy. 

We watched our steps carefully because there were lots of rocks and exposed roots on the trail. However, we made it down and were as hungry as bears. Bears– oh, yeah, we remembered we were supposed to fetch Roy before going to lunch. He had spent the time doing stretches, eating Advils like M&M’s, and unsuccessfully asking random strangers for deep-tissue foot rubs.

Since we were in new territory, we wanted to explore a barbecue joint we hadn't tried, and discovered a place in Canton called Four 41 South BBQ. Off we raced, and we were glad we did.

While Four 41 South BBQ was new to Trailheads, it is well-known for having some of N. Georgia’s best barbecue served “from pit to plate.” They’ve won scads of awards, including being selected by the Georgia Business Journal as the 2021 Best BBQ Joint in the state. 

We secured a table outside, close to the large smokers and their wood fire.

Inside, the atmosphere is welcoming. We approached the counter and ordered. This barbecue spot has all your favorites, except for fried foods. What?! Had we accidentally stepped into a health food restaurant?

Trailheads liked the fun vibe of the joint. In the bathroom, there’s artwork featuring a fresh twist on dogs playing poker. Nice. Elvis and Fio got a kick out of that.

A friendly server named Jordan brought us platters of prime meats, smoked to perfection in the large smokers located about twenty feet from our table. Talk about your pit to plate fare. Let’s dive into the nitty-gritty of the goods.

The people who ordered brisket were ecstatic in their praise. Roy said, “It was a massive serving, thickly sliced, wet and dry with fantastic bark and excellent flavor.” George remarked that, "The meat was juicy, the bark perfectly salted and burnt, and the fat added an essential connection to ancient carnivore cravings." He talks awfully purty, George does.

Steve was impressed by his pulled pork sandwich. It featured a generous portion of smoky, tender pulled pork piled high on a toasted Martin’s Potato Bun (the best friend any sandwich ever had). He savored it down to the last greedy bite.

Guy, George, and Patrick raved about the spareribs. Guy said the ribs were “succulent, meaty, barky, and yum.” Patrick was crazy about the dry rub and noted that it gave the meat a nice pop. George gnawed on a bone and signaled his approval.

“Okay,” you say in that doubting way of yours, “but what about the sides?” Well, they were also fabulous.

Roy called the slaw “top tier,” and Guy said it "tasted like coleslaw should.” George scarfed the cabbage concoction.

The Brunswick Stew impressed both Steve and Patrick. Steve declared it “the best and not just recycled leftovers.” Patrick shoveled his with a fork and said it’s a hearty, zesty, meaty stew for the ages.

Brad devoured his collard greens. “These are the real deal,” he said, spearing a mound for a quick trip to his mouth.

Patrick and Guy both praised the creamy and savory pimento cheese stone-ground grits. They were ideal for coating their stomachs in luxurious style.

And Roy was a big fan of his broccoli salad. “It’s crunchy with a very flavorful dressing.” It might even be considered healthy!

George was smitten with his cucumber salad. It was fresh goodness.

Believe it or not, Trailheads even loved the Texas Toast, which we rarely like. George said it was “butter-soaked and irresistible.” 

Roy and Patrick relished their cornbread muffins, served with sorghum butter. When have you ever had that combo?

As we ate, George noticed that we did less talking, but had more grunting noises and expressions of delight.

As we finished our meals, the Pit Master and owner, Kevin, came over to greet us and ask how everything was. We praised his joint. Kevin smiled like a proud papa and shared the legacy of Four 41 South BBQ.

He learned to conjure fire and smoke magic under the guidance of his grandfathers (their pictures are hung in the hallway).

A terrific portrait of his grandfather, who owned a gas station in Athens and smoked whole hogs, hangs in the main room. Young Kevin learned his craft well.

Although adult Kevin spent years in the elevator industry (we forgot to ask him to install a lift at Amicalola Falls), he chose to leave that field and enter the restaurant business in 2016, alongside his lovely wife, Maggie. Over the years, their fresh, homemade cooking has taken the area by storm, and they've built a fantastic team of skilled, friendly associates who instantly make you feel at home. 

We asked for some of his favorite barbecue joints, and we agreed with his picks. Kevin is good friends with many other Pit Masters. We love how close-knit the Georgia barbecue community is.

After we told him about Trailheads and gave him one of our stickers, he reciprocated by bringing out an assortment of stickers he’s created over the years. Kevin has a fantastic sense of humor. 

He shared the backstory of a sticker that reads, “CONGRATS YOU’RE FROM TEXAS.” He noted that anyone from Texas will tell you that within a minute, and see themselves as barbecue experts. Kevin smiled. “They’re in for a big surprise in Georgia. We don’t care you’re from Texas; we do things our way, and we’ll put our barbecue up against anyone.” Patrick married a Texan and grabbed the sticker for her. 

Trailheads agree that Four 41 South BBQ is a place you won’t want to miss. Check them out soon and enjoy a feast. 

Elvis likes the table scraps, too.

Rating: Four Ribs*

Four 41 South BBQ

149 Reinhardt College Pkwy

Suite 13

Canton, GA 30114

(770) 224-6388

four41south.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. Our 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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