Moving On- Treasure Hunt

Al-a-ba-ma.
Such a pretty place.  Such a lot of wide, open space.  Such a lot of nothing but wide, open space.
We enjoyed our drive through here, too, but we continued to have problems finding places to camp.  It's the dogs, you know.
The irony is that one of the top reasons we decided to camp on this trip was to make it more dog-friendly. But while one might surmise that the wilderness would be a welcoming place for animals, it turns out most campgrounds to do not allow our furry friends to join in the s'mores making.  Go figure.
Since we'd had trouble searching for places after it was really too late and we were too tired for that to be any fun, we decided to stop early this time so we could have a nice relaxing evening hanging out with nature. We decided to just go to the nearest campground!
Where would that be, though...exactly? Hmm.  Google it!
Right. You know what happens when a couple of yuppie DC city-slickers dependent on technology get out into the very thick of Al-a-ba-ma?  Well their hybrid cars start to feel a little self-conscious around all those big rusty trucks.  Their GPS navigation kind of shrugs and goes, "dude. I'm not from around here."  And they get lost. Using GPS in middle-of-nothing-Alabama is like trying to graze your cows in Dupont Circle; some things don't mesh.
So we did something crazy!  We stopped and asked someone. Apparently you can do that.
We stopped at a gas station.
J got out and approached the only person in sight with shoes on.  He had galoshes, up to his hips.  He was not tiny.  He had blonde hair poking out from beneath a camouflage hat; he had on a tank top. And suspenders.  He had a huge blue truck, on gigantic wheels, with one bumper sticker of the confederate flag, and another with the image of a pistol and the inscription "I'm your Huckleberry".
J, in his Yankees T-Shirt, walked over from his prius, and introduced himself.
Well Huckleberry was extremely friendly and helpful.  He spent a long time explaining to J the only place he knew nearby where "people sometimes camped".  The directions were long and contained key phrases such as "where it forks", "don't turn by the gate go the other way", and "there's two roads take the dirt one". It included one very skeptical survey of our two-wheel drive caravan followed by "you can probably make it up that hill."
We did our best to follow this verbal map, and soon we were bumping along through plumes of red dust; barely making it up several hills.  Do you want to know where we were, guys?
I can't tell you. We've no idea.  Here is what the GPS thinks:

Take a look at that right screen there.  It is fully zoomed out.  We are the arrow.
Do you see where we are?
In the middle of ABSOLUTELY NOwhere Peanuts.
That's where.  And after a couple of HOURS of crunching gravel out in Nowhere, we seriously considered just setting up camp on the side of the road and getting it over with.
"What could happen?" I asked. "It's not like some park ranger, or probably any human being at all, is going to come strolling along and kick us out".
"True," answered J, "but we are surrounded by "private property" signs, and I'm more concerned about squatting on someone's land whose idea of justice might be a sawed-off shotgun".
(I would have to give you a better explanation of our local observations to fully justify the consideration of this possibility, but just trust that it was not based purely on speculation.)
So we turned around, following our tracks in the dust like a breadcrumb trail, and slowly crawled back to the pavement.
But on the way back, J decided to try one more turn.
The landmarks started to make Huckleberry's descriptions make sense.  We were on the right track!
Now look.
A lot of time had been wasted and we were starting to be a little, well, over it.
There was too much driving and too many posted restrictions and not enough communing with nature and catching marshmallows on fire and such.
This camping thing was not turning out to have enough kumbaya in it, guys. You know? 
So we were getting a little Over It when we came to the peak of a very big hill, and plunged down the other side-
and found this:

Kum.Ba.Ya. People.
Right there.
The pictures don't get it.  It was this beautiful, pristine lake surrounded by hilly forest. There was no one else around, it was like a secret paradise.  The air was warm and perfect, there was a little dock just for us.

We cooked a good dinner and swam in the lake.

Jump!

The water was the perfect temperature.  It was so clean, when we got out there was no algae smell, no slimy skin...it felt like we'd had an actual bath. It washed all the red dust and the Over It away.

Little One played fetch with the dogs- who were in complete heaven, by the way- and chased fireflies on the grass.

It is one of the prettiest, most peaceful places I have ever been.  It was so relaxing and lovely that it was-stunningly- worth the ridiculous trip to get to it.  We had such a nice time that it was worth camping all the way across the country just for that one zen evening of blissful family/nature togetherness. 

We tucked the kids into bed and had a glass of wine on the dock.  We dipped our toes in the water and talked about what a nice place it was.  We cozied into our tent with a cool breeze whispering through the warm air, and the crickets humming us to sleep.  Kuuuuumbayaaaaa.
Yes guys.  It was perfect.  Perfect, perfect.  Almost...too perfect....