I am not one to say I told you so. It's just not my nature. Bob might tell you otherwise, but then you should take everything Bob says with a grain of salt. A big fat grain of salt. This is the man, after all, whose motto is: "Never let the truth get in the way of telling a good story." I can not begin to count the times Bob has uttered this aphorism. Whenever the veracity of one of Bob's stories is challenged, Bob will invariably say, "It's the truth, honest, I swear." If further challenged, Bob will reply, "Anyway, Pop always told me, never let the truth get in the way of telling a good story." Interestingly enough, Bob's father denies ever having said this and swears that his stories are always composed of one hundred percent truth. A chip off the old block, Bob is.

At any rate, I am not one to say I told you so, honestly. Although there have been plenty of times that I could have. Take, for instance, the first time Bob and I went looking for Long Creek Falls.

Bob had read about Long Creek Falls in one of the numerous guidebooks he purchased after starting his "quest" to find a new skinny dipping spot. (I might add that Bob has become completely manic about this. "If you want to go for a swim, just bring your trunks and we can go to Hemlock Falls, or Waters Creek," I told him, but he insisted on searching for a new spot that would afford more privacy.) We set out for the mountains armed with directions to what Bob assured me was a promising site. "You brought the map, didn't you?" I asked shortly after we set out. I was referring to the "U.S. Forest Service Map of the Chattahoochee National Forest", an invaluable tool that I hate to be without.

"Should be in the glove box," Bob replied. It wasn't.

"Don't you think we should go back and get it?" I said. We weren't very far from home.

"We won't need it. I have the book. The directions are quite clear." was Bob's reply and against my better judgement, I didn't push the point.