Lexington is a small town 18 miles east of Athens, GA on US 78, about halfway to the larger city of Washington. There is a small commercial district on US 78 and a historic district of old homes north of this two-block commercial district. For a long time the main business there was a Ford dealership, but it closed many years ago.
The City of Lexington website states: “Lexington was founded in 1793 as the county seat of Oglethorpe County. During the first fifty years of its existence, Lexington was a thriving business and cultural center and home to some of the state’s most learned, wealthy and influential men. In terms of architecture, history and setting, Lexington is considered one of the finest surviving examples of a typical 19th-century county seat in Georgia. A large portion of the city consists of the Lexington Historic District, which is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.”
The two biggest things in Lexington these days are the old (historic) county courthouse, which you see on your left as you drive west toward Athens, and the nearby “Shaking Rock Park.” I’ve been there many times, driving through Lexington on my way home to Savannah after visiting friends in Athens. “Shaking Rock Park” is an amazing geological formation unlike any I’ve ever seen. It’s a collection of huge granite blocks left over from a volcanic eruption probably millions of years ago, when rock magma was pushed to the surface in some sort of eruption and then cooled into the huge blocks we see today.
The “eponymous” boulder is a huge elliptical boulder resting on top of a flatter one, sort of like a chicken egg balanced on a china plate. I’ve read that you could actually rock the top boulder back and forth a little bit at one time by pushing on one end or the other. But when the ground underneath eventually subsided, that was no longer possible.
(I tried 50 years ago when I first discovered the park as a graduate student at the nearby University of Georgia. But despite my best efforts, I couldn’t detect the slightest tremor, even when I pushed as hard as I could.)
Another amazing sight is another huge elliptical boulder resting on top of a flatter one, but with one big difference: this one is cleanly split down the middle, as if a hot knife had cut a biscuit! I have never seen such a large boulder split so cleanly in half before.
Geologists will tell you that even hard rocks sometimes have tiny cracks that allow water to seep into them. During severe frosts, the water expands due to the freezing temperatures and splits the rock. It’s hard to believe that such a large, dense granite rock would split just by the water freezing inside it, but that’s exactly what happens!
I heard the same explanation from a park ranger several years ago as we climbed to the top of Pikes Peak in Colorado: the higher the railroad climbed above the fall line, the smaller the rocks became. I hadn’t expected that at all. But his explanation made sense when you consider that water expands by about 15% of its volume when it freezes. A third notable giant boulder was flat this time, not elliptical, and sat on a cliff, facing west. It was a great place to sit and just smell the clean silence of the forest, listen to the birds calling, and look down across the valley to the west. A nice, quiet place to come, relax a little, and meditate – especially at sunset when the view is spectacular – especially for a “flatland boy” like me who grew up in Savannah, where there are no hills at all. The entrance to the park was marked only by a small sign on US 78, just west of the old courthouse; so it was easy to miss if you weren’t paying attention. Walking down this little road you came to the entrance, which is now guarded by a gate that is locked at night to keep out people who would come to cause mischief. Unfortunately, some of these huge old boulders are covered in graffiti; and occasionally trash and cigarette butts littered the grounds, indicating visitors who unfortunately had no manners. (On Tybee Island down the coast, there is now a slogan “Leave only your footprints!” for the same reason. People can be so damn inconsiderate sometimes. I just want to slap them in the face!)
I have been to this park many times, usually just a quick stop on the way back to Savannah, but a refreshing one. The quiet and solitude are soothing to the soul. And only a few times have I encountered others there, usually late in the day, just before it closes. The people I have encountered there have always been quiet and respectful of the place.
But I can well imagine that this was not always the case. Hence the gate that closes the park at night.
One of the great natural treasures of this great state!
And known only to a few, mostly locals. I’m glad I stumbled upon it one day during my numerous travels across the state.
Rafe Semmes is a proud graduate of the (“original”) Savannah High School and the University of Georgia. He and his wife live in eastern Liberty County and are long-time Rotarians. He writes on a variety of topics and can be reached at [email protected].
