Old memories and new finds on North Georgia’s Highway 5

Photograph by John E. McDonald

Way back before the turn of the century (the 21st, that is), in the mid-to-late 1990s, my parents bought a cabin in Cherry Log. The unincorporated community, in the picturesque Blue Ridge Mountains of North Georgia, is adjacent to Cherry Lake, with access to the Benton MacKaye Trail.

My parents would visit from Florida, sometimes for entire summers. When they were there, we’d haul our kids and dogs up Highway 5 in the Isuzu Rodeo for weekends at “the cabin,” which, admittedly, was more of a house with cabin appeal. Back then, internet access was mostly dial-up, and in the mountains it was spotty at best. Cell service was considered an unnecessary luxury.

The three-story house, built in the 1980s, sat on one of the highest lots in the community. Stress melted away in the face of that mountain ridge looming silently in the distance, its lines against the sky an unmoving reliability and a point on which to daydream.

Often, we’d make our way to the small wooden chapel at the far edge of Cherry Lake. The chapel had a cobwebbed bell hanging over the front, and its peal sang across the lake water into the hills. Its rectangular interior was nothing more than wooden pews and a podium, worn Bibles, the occasional wasp bumping against the stained glass . . . It was always so quiet. You could hear your every movement echoing on the floors and walls.

The original State Route 5 runs for 155 miles through seven counties in northwest Georgia. It was established in 1919 as the main travelway from Marietta to the Tennessee state line, later expanding southwest to the Alabama border. In the ’80s and ’90s, routing changes and traffic density necessitated the merger of Highway 5 with Interstate 575 and Highway 515. Old Highway 5 still exists, often running very close (under local road names) to Highways 575 and 515 and at times merging with 515, but it’s this bigger, updated stretch that has become the gateway to the North Georgia mountains and its popular towns Ellijay and Blue Ridge.

Since those early days at the cabin, I have driven up Highway 5 more times than I can count. Along the way, I’ve watched the mountainsides bloom with suburban gentrification: Walmarts, Chipotles, and Taco Bells at first, followed by the craft breweries and upscale vineyards that are so common today. Just about everybody has the internet now, though cell service can still be spotty.

But the drive up Highway 5, past Canton and all the way to Blue Ridge, is still filled with whimsical, tasty, and unexpected finds—some old, some new, some timeless. Here are some of my favorites.

Photograph courtesy of Talking Rock Brewery

BALL GROUND AND TALKING ROCK

If escaping Atlanta traffic leaves you in need of a snack and/or a history lesson, I suggest starting your Highway 5 exploration with the little hamlet of Ball Ground. Like many towns in the area, this area was home to the Cherokee people before the Indian Removal Act of 1830 forced them from their homelands, along with other Southeast Native American tribes, in a devastating genocide often referred to as the Trail of Tears. A historic marker in the center of town commemorates another piece of local Indigenous history, the Battle of Taliwa of 1755 between the Muscogee/Creek and Cherokee tribes.

In the interim centuries, Ball Ground has grown into a popular entry point into the North Georgia mountains, with shaded park space, ample foodie stops, and a brewery. Park behind Rock Solid Brewing Co. and head down the main avenue, Gilmer Ferry Road. Your first stop should be Frankfurt Döner & Meats, where Detlev and Elke Werner and their daughter, Annette, have been specializing in homemade gourmet sausages, bratwurst, “life-changing sandwiches”—per the shop’s Facebook page—and other German fare since 2010. During local festivals, the staff has been known to dress up in German dirndl und lederhosen, don roller skates, and put on quite the show. That same freewheeling spirit is reflected in their selection of brats and sausages, free samples of which are frequently on offer: Along with traditional flavors, try a taste of Maui Wowi, Fruity Explosion, or Peanut Thai.

For a quick, kid-friendly road snack, walk a little farther down Gilmer Ferry and step into the shared office space that includes Mama Geraldine’s Cheese Straws (look for the mural, across from the golf cart warehouse). Someone inside will offer you free samples—but this is their office, not a store, so to purchase these delectable snacks, check out grocery stores nearby.

Next, I like to take the back roads—including Canton Road as it winds east of 575 and past Martin’s Produce in Tate—to Talking Rock, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it town with a recent census count of 89 residents. Worth a visit in this small town is Talking Rock Brewery: It’s housed in a former train car, with additional seating outdoors.

Photograph by John E. McDonald

APPLE ORCHARD ALLEY

Heading north toward Ellijay, families looking for a day of bucolic autumnal apple picking have a big choice to make: Which orchard? In Ellijay alone, at least 11 are open in the fall, most of them along Apple Orchard Alley, or State Highway 52, which runs east of Highway 5 from Ellijay.

The decision is a personal one. My family has been loyal to Hillcrest Orchards since the 1990s, in part because back in the day, when you entered the main store, you were greeted by an animatronic farmer on a broken-down tractor. His missive, a booming “Come on in an’ getcher load up,” became a family saying, often used when it was most inappropriate.

No matter the orchard, peak season (September to Thanksgiving) is crowded. But along with the apple picking, pig races, and associated fun, I realized early on that Hillcrest—open late August to the end of November—makes some of the best apple cider doughnuts. In fact, my fall visits to Hillcrest have become less about apples and more about heading to the cider doughnut displays, where I pile up as many packages as my basket can carry.

On the drive back toward Ellijay on Route 52, getcher load up with a bag of boiled peanuts at Gene’s Old Time Peanuts. Gene Padgett—the Boiled Peanut Man—has had his stand for 18 years, and he offers simple but delicious choices: first, quart or half gallon; second, Good ‘n’ Salty, Spicy Hots, or (yawn) Low Salt.

Before you cross 5 and head into downtown Ellijay, pull over at the big gravel lot by the Cartecay River Experience. Rafting is fun and fine, but I suggest that, instead, you make your way over yonder to the manic, graffitied statue of Early Cuyler. It’s time for a family photo with the star of Squidbillies, the long-running Adult Swim cartoon series that starred a family of idiosyncratic mud squids living in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

DOWNTOWN ELLIJAY

After apple picking, you’ll find a friendly meal at Ellijay Wood Fired Pizza in the busy downtown square. This memorable place is owned by Marcelo and Candace Sandrini, who also purchased the venerable Poole’s Bar-B-Q when it was set to close down for good in 2023. When I visited, my pizza server suggested the Col. Simmons 5 Cheese w/Heat, a 12-inch Neapolitan, and after experiencing its sweet, tangy, and charred flavors, I will be ordering it again.

But there is much more to find in downtown Ellijay and its somewhat peculiar madness. Outside the pizza place, turn right and head to the T-shirt shop a couple of doors down. Inside, you’ll see a door on the left-hand side. If someone is standing outside the door with a knowing (or perhaps suspicious) look on their face, say to them, with as much earnestness as you can muster, “I’m here to see a man about a horse.”

Nine times out of ten, that person will then let you inside, and you will enter The Door, a trendy speakeasy serving all kinds of classic cocktails. It’s owned by Matt Bond and Jason Boutwell, who also run The Roof on the building’s top floor. Populated by only the best people (secret drinkers), The Door has one-way mirrors so you can see when your partner is coming for you. 

Photograph courtesy of Cress Creeks Farm

OUTSIDE ELLIJAY

If you have an hour or so to spare, type Ellijay Mushrooms into your preferred maps app and make a short winding drive north. The colorful metal mushrooms displayed at the entrance and around the property welcome you to Howard Berk’s vision: a store, education center, and working mushroom farm on 171 acres (including a Buddhist retreat up the hill).

Inside the growing houses, through which you can walk, Ellijay Mushrooms grows shiitake, blue oyster, golden oyster, king oyster, and lion’s mane by the tens of thousands, supplying more than 50 Atlanta restaurants, not to mention grocers and local establishments. As you leave, fill a cup of you-pick flowers for $10, plus a few boxes of your favorite fungi to enjoy at home.

A short drive away is Cress Creeks Farm, which partners with Ellijay Mushrooms to offer farm-to-table dinners on its 15-acre sheep and lamb farm. Run by Lee and Mindy Forbes and their son, Hayden Cress, Cress Creeks came about when Hayden was set to graduate high school and his parents asked him what he wanted to do next.

His response surprised them: farm.

So in 2022, with zero farming experience, the family bought a weedy cut of land crossed by two creeks. Approximately 10,000 YouTube hours later—plus dozens of mama sheep, rams, chickens, turkey, geese, extra sheep for petting, and a large barn—they now breed Dorper and Katahdin sheep for lamb meat. “Lamb is good,” Mindy says. “It’s not what your mom cooked in the 1980s.” The farm also has a corn maze in the fall and a big Easter egg hunt, among other reasons to visit.

Photograph courtesy of Explore Georgia

CHERRY LOG

As you get back on Highway 5 and head north, you’ll come across what appears to be a small junkyard on your right. As you get closer, however, a certain order emerges from the madness, and you’ll find yourself turning into Smith Station Antiques.

It’s run by Neal Smith Jr., who says he has liked collecting junk—or, ahem, antique finds—since he was 15. Once a special education teacher, he was forced into early medical retirement 28 years ago, upon which his father-in-law told him, “You gotta keep active, or you’re going to stop moving and die.” And thus, Smith Station was born.

Among the thousands of finds, large and small, on the sprawling property are old signs, black-powder guns, license plates, old toys, and bottles of every kind. They’re all inventoried and piled in the yard—and on porches, tables, and shelves, and even next to the food dish belonging to Cher, a pretty Maine Coon who lounges about awaiting attention. Is there one thing he looks for when hunting for old things? Smith answers quickly. “Rust,” he says. “Rust is a must.”

A little farther up Highway 5, you’ll find Expedition Bigfoot: The Sasquatch Museum. As a former true believer in Bigfoot, who was let down time and again in my quest to find the famed cryptid, I was skeptical when I pulled into the parking lot. It is not uncommon, after all, for towns to promote local Bigfoot sightings to attract tourists.

But Expedition Bigfoot, the brainchild of documentary and reality TV producer David Bakara—himself a Bigfoot believer—is something else. Akin to a Steven Spielberg spectacle, this well-curated, self-guided museum greets visitors with epic movie-soundtrack music coming from speakers in the parking lot, Bigfoot sculptures, and a sign that reads “Research & Reporting Center.” It uses our natural curiosity regarding the legend of Bigfoot to promote other wilderness stories and celebrate the great outdoors. That, plus tickets priced from $6 to $9, makes this a pit stop worth pulling over for, especially for cryptid-crazy kids (and their skeptical parents).

Photograph by Thomas Lee Warman

BLUE RIDGE

Continue along Highway 5 to Blue Ridge, a busy mountain town whose latest boom follows a popular mantra: “If you build it—breweries, restaurants, plenty of murals—they will come.”

Grumpy Old Men Brewing pours strong craft brews, including an IPA called I Ain’t a Drivin’ (ABV 8.3 percent). Outside, the restaurant pop-up Scrappy’s Dog House offers tasty, low-commitment snacks.

If it’s the weekend and your Blue Ridge visit extends past dark, head over to Swan Drive-In Theatre and step back in time: Swan has been showing family-friendly silver screen classics since 1955.

After a visit to Blue Ridge, I often make a stop at the Cherry Log community where my family spent so many summers. My parents are no longer with us; those old times are only a memory. The property we sold is now a slick modern affair, overlooking a view cleared of trees.

Even so, I make the pilgrimage. Turning off Highway 5, the road curves to the right, where a stream quietly greets me, meandering alongside my car until I cross what used to be a covered bridge and pass through the canopy into the cabin community. Eventually the drive leads to “our cabin”—now owned by someone else.

But down by Cherry Lake, that little chapel is still standing, exuding its humble appeal—doors closed, bell quiet, reflective space ready for any visitors.

All Georgia Road Trip Playlist

This article appears in our August 2025 issue.

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