Alice doesn't work here anymore...

I regret to inform fellow climbers that the most sacred spot in recreational treeclimbing has been destroyed.

The John Milledge Motor Court and Motel on U.S. 441 in Milledgeville, Ga., is now just a memory. This is the place where five years ago Alice Lou first laid eyes on Abe Winters of Tree Climbing USA. This is the very spot where that “healthy” lady was anointed “Patron Goddess of Recreational Treeclimbers Everywhere.”

It is now a pile of rubble.

Everything is gone – the scarred front desk where Abe and Alice Lou first locked eyes, the algae-filled swimming pool where she performed her little after-dark love dance, the little dirt-and-gravel parking lot where she gazed so lovingly upon Abe’s equipment-filled pickup truck, and the roach-infested bedroom where she led Abe and John Routon and Joe Maher for a mere $18 – all gone.

This blasphemy was discovered about 10 a.m. on Tuesday, Nov. 8, when I rode into Milledgeville with Joe of the Jungle, on the way to check out a grove of climbing trees east of this middle-Georgia town.

We had driven for three hours from the north and had just topped a small hill on the highway. We were prepared to make our usual obeisance to that sacred shrine, but we were suddenly stunned with what we saw.

A whole troop of yellow Caterpillar D-6R bulldozers with twin 150-gallon fuel tanks, elevated sprocket designs and semi-universal scrape blades was busy grinding the last of the John Milledge Motor Court and Motel into the red Georgia clay. Green and blue dump trucks were lined up to haul off the remains to some nameless landfill.

An ugly sheet of plywood, nailed to a couple of four-by-four posts, announced to the entire world: “For Sale – 10 acres of commercial property with city water and sewer.”

It was a sad moment, an incredibly sad moment, but fortunately Abe was not there to witness it. He and John had driven into town by another route that did not go by the motel and they met up with us at the trees, which we wanted to inspect.

Joe kept Abe occupied while I led John off to one side and explained the tragic situation. John then took charge.

“Abe,” he said. “Come over here and sit down on the tailgate of your truck. I’ve got some bad, bad news…!”

Abe was outraged. “You mean they’re going to actually sell that property? They ought to declare it a hazardous waste site and fence it off. There was stuff floating in that swimming pool that could really hurt somebody…!”

While we were consoling Abe, a group of locals showed up to lead us to the climbing trees they’d found. We explained the situation and provided a little background about how Abe, who always looked for bargains, had stopped at a half dozen motels to check their prices before selecting the John Milledge Motor Court and Motel.

“You mean you ACTUALLY stayed there an entire night,” one local asked with an incredulous look on his face. “You didn’t actually crawl between those sheets, did you…? Unnnnghhh!”

Joe of the Jungle sheepishly nodded “yes,” but then explained: “At least I had my sleeping bag. I was able to roll it out on the floor, so I stayed fairly safe. Abe and John used the beds.”

The locals then backed away a few steps, nervously fingered their non-existent prayer beads, and kept their distances for the rest of the day.

Late in the day we hoisted a few oversized bottles of cold adult beverages to toast the remains of the John Milledge Motor Court and Motel. John then put everything into the proper perspective.

“Alice Lou hasn’t worked here in years. She doesn’t even live around here anymore,” John explained. “Last time I heard anything about her, she was up in Columbus, Ohio, working as the head waitress and chief grits cook extraordinaire at the world’s highest volume Waffle House.”

“Yep!” I agreed. “And I hear that she lingers a lot at the table where Jim K. dines, refilling his coffee cup every time he takes a sip….”

Sounds like a good tree climbing comedy/adventure movie with a romantic Wafflehouse subplot!
-moss

Some people say we return to another life here on earth. So tell us Wild Bill, what WAS your past life? You can come clean with us here. After all, we are fellow climbers.

A very good piece indeed. Worthy of publication too. You certainly got this writer's attention. Good work!

After all that great Wafflehouse drama, I'd sure like to know how was the climbing trip.

As Abe and I prepare to depart for yet another conference in Tennessee; I am lost for words reference the event that WildBill has so carefully written. Alice is alive and well, I am told by more than one person, living in Ohio. She was a true sign post for us at a time when TCUSA needed to make a change. She may become in the near future the patron saint of treeclimbers everywhere. I too feel sad at the lost of such a monument. Great job WildBill in framing this event so well in print.