... wandering in the woods when I was searching for the man in need of a ride from Omaha. I plugged his address into the GPS (which is badly in need of updating, info. being from 2013.) and hoped to drive right to his house. I'd called him for instructions, but his speech was so difficult to understand I knew I needed assistance. That GPS lead me astray. It has happened before, causing me to tell people all the time it is not 100% trustworthy. I will be more cautious, and hopefully better informed in the future.
About Omaha: I know nothing. I have been one time before, but I don't recall why I would have gone, as it is truly at the end of the road. Literally and figuratively: the signs say Dead End. There was a bridge that has been closed, definitely ancient and probably unsafe for heavy loads, but the road leading in, that used to take people across the river now stops at the bridge, going nowhere. Some miles south of town, there is a newer, higher, more modern bridge spanning the Chattahoochee River, for vehicles to travel. The man I was transporting reported that his family, and I assume many other residents, would drive across the new bridge, and north on 431 to get to the largest nearby town for necessities: groceries, medical care, etc. Interesting that you first have to travel to a different state to get where you want to be.
The only business I saw in my brief visit was an unmanned set of gas pumps. I assume you use a card to pay prior to pumping, but there was simply a paved area, lighted canopy, and six gas pumps, sitting quietly, waiting out there in the dark. No attendant, no signs of activity, no indicators of business, no convenience store adjacent. No humans manning a register in a seedy curb store to chat with or buy a pack of smokes.
I knew from media reports someone has started a little brewery in Omaha. I suspect it had a lot to do with the fact that there is absolutely nothing going on in Omaha. The only place that one might find a living breathing body to converse with was the teeny, tiny post office. I believe the town was once a bustling community. It would have been a stop on the river for commercial boats that would travel north from the Florida coast to Columbus, located on the fall line, where the water becomes too shoal-y to traverse. Boats would bring goods/supplies to isolated, rural communities, then pick up outgoing products like cotton, as well as being a source of information when delivering mail and printed news.
Omaha is situated on the banks of the Chattahoochee River, but a body can only
spend so much time fishing, or falling into the river due to
inebriation. My assumption is that there are some guys there, probably
fairly young to be so fascinated with the production and consumption of
adult beverages, who started some home brew on a lark. Thinking they
could buy the basic ingredients, equipment for production that could be
re-used, thereby considered an 'investment' and produce for private
consumption in the privacy of their own homes. After a few cold ones,
they became so entertained and amused with their brewing skills, the
light bulb came on above their wee little brains, safely tucked away
inside several craniums. They thought: "Hey! We could start a business
and sell this!" What great fun, drinking our days away! "Yay, we will be self-employed, and the world will beat a path to our door in beautiful downtown Omaha!"
Omaha Brewing Co. is open for tastings: every day except Sunday, in the afternoons. I assume they stay up late drinking, and sleep until noon, then go to work to do it all over again. Watch for the sign on the left after you you turn off highway 27 south. Pass through ten miles of woods, and begin to see signs of human habitation.
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