Lexington is a small town 18 miles east of Athens, GA, on US 78, roughly half-way to the larger town of Washington. It has a small commercial district on US 78, and an historic district of old homes just north of that two-block commercial district. For a long time, the main business there was a Ford dealership, but that closed many years ago.
The City of Lexington’s website describes it this way: “Lexington was established as the county seat of Oglethorpe County in 1793. During its first fifty years of existence, Lexington was a thriving business and cultural center, home to some of the most learned, prosperous and influential men in the state. In architecture, history and surroundings, Lexington is considered one of the finest extant examples of a typical 19th century county seat town in Georgia. A large portion of the city makes up the Lexington Historic District, which is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.”
The two biggest things in Lexington these days is the old (historic) county courthouse, on the left as one heads west towards Athens; and nearby “Shaking Rock Park.” I have been to it many times, and through Lexington on the way home to Savannah after visiting friends in Athens. “Shaking Rock Park” is an amazing geologic formation, unlike any I have ever seen. It is comprised of a scattering of huge granite boulders, left over from some volcanic eruption of probably millions of years ago, when rock magma must have been pushed to the surface in some kind of eruption, then cooled into the huge boulders we see today.
The “namesake” boulder is a huge elliptical boulder sitting on top of a flatter one, sort of like a chicken’s egg balanced on a china plate. I have read that, at one time, the top boulder could indeed be rocked back and forth a bit by pushing on one end or another. But as the ground underneath eventually settled, that became 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, was unable to discover even the slightest tremor when I pushed it as hard as I could.)
Another amazing sight is another huge elliptical boulder sitting on top of a flatter one, but with one major difference: This one is cleanly split down the middle, as if a hot knife had cut a biscuit! I have never seen such a huge rock so neatly cracked in half before.
Geologists will tell you that what sometimes happens is that even hard rocks have tiny fissures in them, into which water will creep; and when a hard freeze comes along, the freezing temperatures will cause the water to expand, splitting the rock. Hard to believe a huge dense granite rock like that will split due just to freezing water inside it, but that is what happens!
I heard the same explanation from a park ranger, several years back, while going up to the top of Pike’s Peak, in Colorado, where the higher the railroad climbed, above the fall line, the smaller the rocks got. I was not expecting that at all. But his explanation made sense, given that water will expand something like 15% of its volume when it freezes. A third notable such huge boulder was this time a flat one, rather than elliptical, sitting atop a cliff, facing west. It was a great place to sit and just smell the clean quiet of the woods, listen to the birds calling to one another, and look over the valley below to the west. A nice quiet place to come, relax a bit, and meditate – particularly at sunset, when the view is spectacular – particularly to a “flat-lander boy” like me, growing up in Savannah, where there are no hills at all. The entrance to the park was only noted by a small sign on US 78, just west of the old courthouse; so it was easy to miss if one wasn’t looking. Turning down that small road led to the entrance, now guarded by a gate that is locked at dark, to keep out folks who would come then to cause mischief. Graffiti regrettably marks some of those huge old boulders; and occasionally trash and cigarette butts would mar the grounds, indicating visitors who, sadly, had no manners. (Tybee Island, on the coast, now has the slogan, “Leave only your footprints!” for the same reason. People can be so darned thoughtless sometimes. I just want to slap them!)
I have been to this park many times, usually just a short stop on the way back to Savannah; but a refreshing one. The peace and solitude is calming to the soul. And only a few times have I encountered others there, usually late in the day just before it is about to close. The folks I have run into there have always been quiet and respectful of the place.
But I can easily imagine that was not always the case; hence, the need for the gate, closing the park at night.
One of this great state’s great natural treasures!
And known only to a few, locals mostly. I’m glad I stumbled across it one day in my various 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 may be reached at rafe_semmes@yahoo.com.