Beyond the Arena

St. Clair Agriculture & Multi-Event Center
is so much more than original rodeo venue

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Mackenzie Free
Submitted Photos

The St. Clair County Arena in Odenville has been home to rodeos and agricultural shows for many years, but today, it is so much more. Over the past 12 months, it has hosted a dog show, a vintage market, a circus and a county fair.

The Event Center next door is a pickleball mecca to rival any courts in the county.

 In other words, the Arena ain’t just a place for agricultural shows anymore. The official title may give a hint to the depth of its overall scope: St. Clair Agriculture and Multi-Event Center.

“We wanted more than just an agricultural center,” says County Commissioner Jeff Brown. “And that’s what we have. We can do a dog show one day, a circus the next. I give (Arena Director) Ashley (Hay) a ton of credit. She’s easy to work with. The original board that ran it needs credit, too. It started from nothing.”

Dog agility show

 The county bought the Arena, 25.6 acres of land and an office building in 2010 from Randy and Michelle Spence for $551,197. For 11 years, it was used for rodeos and other horse-related events. During COVID, the county received a $1 million federal grant to build an emergency facility, called a Pandemic Center, that they could operate from in the event of a natural disaster. That grant changed everything.

“I came aboard in 2021, and the grant had already been awarded,” says Hay.

“The county commission looked for a way to use the grant to best help the entire county. Only the Arena was here then.”

Hay says that grant required a large, unobstructed space, restrooms, as well as storage to be utilized by EMA. The county commission looked for ways that the facility could be used for more than just emergencies, though. This led to the addition of a sport-court surface, bleachers, retractable basketball goals and equipment for volleyball and pickleball in the Event Center.

“This building was attached to an existing older building that had administrative offices and the cowboy church,” says Hay. “The concession stand with restrooms and showers was built a while ago.”

Both the Arena and the indoor, 12,000-square-foot Event Center are membership facilities available to anyone. “We have a lock box for daily use, or you can sign up online. We have about 100 members right now. The cost is $100 for an annual membership, but daily memberships are obtainable, too.”

Pickleball players have five days a week to play their favorite game. “They are pretty dedicated folks,” Hay says. “And they say ours is one of the nicest facilities within 100 miles. We have pickleball classes, but we don’t have programs, so we’re able to offer more open gym time.”

The Event Center offers summer membership for kids, too. The Center’s Facebook page is the best place to check out the schedules.

“We’re the only arena in our area that I know of that allows open rides as much as we do,” Hay says. “Horseback riders can come any time between 6 a.m. and 10 p.m. When they register, they get access to opening the gates. We have 80 horse-riding members. One woman comes with her baby at 6 a.m. because it’s the only time she can.”

Early history

Originally, the county created a parks and recreation board to run the facility, appointing Lude Mashburn of Odenville, the late Hershel Walker of Argo, Don Smith of Springville, Brad Sanders of Odenville and Kenny Womack of Riverside as  members. A couple of years later, Womack was replaced by Jimmy Hollander, also of Riverside. The board elected Mashburn as chairman.

Zebras and camels visit with circus

“The county had a vision, and they appointed the board to run it,” says Mashburn, who was an agricultural science teacher at St. Clair County High School at that time. “They turned everything over to us, and we ran it. We put in the dirt for the Arena floor, bought a tractor to keep it compacted during rodeos, all that. But the county never funded it for the 10 years we had it, except for building the restrooms and the bleachers. Then things kinda changed when the county got COVID money.”

The board was officially dissolved on February 10, 2022, and the property and facility are now funded and managed by the St. Clair County Commission, according to County Administrator Tina Morgan. Board members at the time of dissolution were Chairman Lude Mashburn, Jimmy Hollander, Brad Sanders, Candi Jones and Donnie Smith.

The county covered the bleachers and Arena, added lights and industrial overhead fans. The bleachers seat 800, with extra seating brought in for rodeos, pushing that total to 1,200 seats as needed. The Arena itself is 22,000 square feet. “In March, April and May, then again in September, October and November, there’s an event every weekend,” Ashley Hay says. “We have had car shows, a community yard sale, barrel racing, ranch sorting, a pig squeal and a county fair.”

Youth timed events such as barrel and pole races and goat tying are still held there. “We have more equine events than anything else at the Arena,” Hay says. “We also have lots of banquets in the Event Center. We’re working on grants for developing the 12-15 acres at the back of the property, including a multi-use trail for walking, horseback riding and bicycles. We also want to do RV hookups so folks can park for the time they are in a show.”

Local youths take part in Pickleball Events Group clinic

Hay’s background is in parks and recreation, having worked for the city of Springville before St. Clair County. Originally from Kansas, she moved here in 2018 because her husband is from Alabama. “I was a high school volleyball and basketball coach, then got into parks and recreation after that,” she says. “I really enjoy it. I started and grew the parks and recreation program in Springville. Then they asked me to do the same here.”

Under Hay’s management, the facility has added a wash bay, industrial fans, lighting, an uncovered, warm-up pen behind the Arena, and everything inside of the Event Center. It has improved parking and upgraded the PA system, too. Hay added a Facebook page and advertisements on Radio Station 94.1. “I feel like things are running well,” she says. “We’re trying to expand the types of programs we have.”

Besides all the public functions, the Arena and Event Center are available to rent by individuals for volleyball and basketball games, for wedding receptions, banquets and other private events. “We have had a wedding, and they brought horses,” Hay says. “The wedding was in the back pasture, and the Arena was where they held the reception. It’s a $750 fee for two days’ rental, and that’s dang cheap in comparison to other facilities of similar size.”

The Arena hosted a circus in February 2025, and the Gala of World Horses in the Fall of 2024. “The Gala had never been to Alabama before,” Hay says.

At least two dozen trailers were parked outside the Arena for a recent Buckle Series, a barrel racing event. Several horses stood tied to trailers, munching hay from their hanging bags. Riders walked their horses in circles, getting them ready for the event. One of those riders was Emmaline Puckett, 9, of Ashville. She has been racing since she was five or six, and like most of the other competitors, usually comes early to put her horse through its paces.

“We’re members here, so if the weather is bad, we come over here to practice barrels,” says Emmaline’s mom, Christina Puckett. “We’re very thankful for this place.”

Tyler and Jayclyn Cobb of Blount County came to watch the barrel race, even though Jayclyn couldn’t compete as usual because her mare has been bred. “We love coming here, Jayclyn says. “It’s covered, shaded, not as hot as other places.”

“A lot of people have really done a great job with the Arena from the get-go,” says Commissioner Brown. “The board members deserve a lot of the credit. We (the county) had the ideas, and they made it happen.

“That board served for free, put in a lot of hours, even parked cars during events. They deserve all the credit.”

Chandler Mountain

St. Clair’s place of sacred beauty

By Roxann Edsall
Photos by Mackenzine Free

For many, the mention of Chandler Mountain brings to mind images of big, beautiful, savory tomatoes.  But the roots of the mountain’s history run far deeper than those lovely fruits or even of those families that have farmed them for generations.  Archaeologists are now calling the mountain a place of profound Native American cultural significance, having documented several sites on and around the mountain.

Climbing the rock face on the mountain

These sites, formally verified by archaeologists over the last two years, include pictographs, which are paintings on stone using the pigment, called red ochre, found in the dirt.  There are at least eight documented sites containing pictographs, cairns, snake walls and other various rock formations attributed to the area’s Native American heritage.  Next month, archaeologists are planning to visit an additional five areas that may also contain significant indigenous findings.

Those culturally significant Native American findings were instrumental in saving Chandler Mountain residents from the fallout from a proposed Alabama Power dam project.  Alabama Power had planned to build a pumped storage hydroelectric facility that would have pumped water from Neely Henry Lake up the mountain to a reservoir and dam at the top, the intent of which was to created electricity by releasing water at peak use times to flow down the mountain to four dams below.

The building and operation of the project would have forever changed the landscape of the mountainside and residents banded together to fight.  They created Save Chandler Mountain, a 501c3 non-profit, and began working to build a case to oppose the dam project.  “The project was a net-negative program, meaning it would have used more energy than it created,” said Fran Summerlin, the organization’s president.  “It was going to get rid of so much farmland and so many houses.” 

 Summerlin explained that the organization reached out to archaeologists and cultural heritage people and found common ground with the people who originally lived on the land, members of the Cherokee Tribe of Northeast Alabama.  Both current residents and the Indigenous people of the area were desperate to save the land and protect its features. 

Seth Penn is a member of the Cherokee Tribe of Northeast Alabama and was, at the time of the proposed dam project, the southeastern coordinator for the Indian Nations Conservation Alliance (INCA).  Fighting to promote Native American culture and to protect sacred sites was his mission and that dovetailed well with Save Chandler Mountain’s mission.  Penn, who has degrees in both cultural anthropology and natural resource conservation management, with minors in Cherokee studies and language, lives in north Alabama, but has ancestral ties to both Etowah and St. Clair counties.

“Chandler Mountain and that area was a place where multiple tribal territories came together,” Penn explains.  “You had the Cherokee people, various branches of Muskogee, as well as Choctaws and Chickasaw too.  This was a special place where various tribes would come together to trade and to talk through things and to try to work things out peacefully.” 

A popular destination – Horse Pens 40 – for bouldering, entertainment, festivals and views

So, their work together began by inviting noted archaeologist David Johnson to visit the mountain.  Johnson, who is from Poughkeepsie, New York, had successfully documented Native American sacred and ceremonial landscapes along the lower Hudson Valley, which was instrumental in saving Split Rock Mountain, a land sacred to the Ramapo Munsee Lenape Nation. “We were having a ceremony celebrating the saving of Split Rock Mountain and Seth Penn and his mother came from northeast Alabama,” said Johnson.  “I walked him around that site and showed him the stone features.  He said I needed to come to Alabama.”

“I made the drive down to Huntsville and met with Seth’s tribe,” Johnson continued.  “Within the first two days, we found two ceremonial landscape sites that the Cherokee Tribe of Northeast Alabama knew nothing about.”    It was at the presentation he gave to the tribe about his findings that he met some visitors who came up from Chandler Mountain.  “They asked me to come look and I went down for two days for a quick look.  What I saw was enough that I went back and have documented eight major sites there.”

The shape of the mountain itself is unique in that, unlike typical mountains that rise to a peak, the top of Chandler Mountain is a plateau, flat at the top with a dip, or bowl in the middle.  The shape is a natural occurrence, formed during the creation of the Appalachian Mountains hundreds of millions of years ago.  The flat top made the mountain ideal for the ceremonial and tribal activities, according to Johnson, with plenty of room for tribes to meet, to trade, to work through disputes, and to pray.

The mountain is known as the tomato capital

“You don’t usually find a lot of artifacts at this type of site,” says Johnson.  “You don’t find a lot of broken arrows and firepits because that’s not what they did here.  This was a special place, a sacred place.”  Those types of artifacts, he explains, are found in habitation sites, archaeological sites where cultures lived and slept.

“There are ceremonially significant places on the mountain, as well as in the whole region,” Penn explains.  “There are places where you see the presence of that confirmed through various rock formations, art, and things along those lines that are centuries old.  It affirms the long-lasting presence of Indigenous people there.”  It’s a place that local Native Americans still go to pray.  “We go to these sacred places where we are able to stand in present time, but lock arms with our ancestors, the ancients, to pray.”

The land is sacred, too, to those who live and farm the land today.  “There are places there with history, with stories, with blood, sweat and tears that have been poured into that land,” Penn continues.  “If that dam project had happened, it would have erased the history of Indigenous people from thousands of years ago, but would also have erased a lot of history from the present inhabitants of that land and their families.” 

Charles Abercrombie’s family is deeply ingrained in the history of the area.  For more than 75 years, he has lived on land on the side of Chandler Mountain that was once part of the homestead of Joel Chandler, for whom the mountain is named.  Chandler received the land as payment for his work as a soldier in the Creek Indian War.  Abercrombie still has the land grant signed by Andrew Jackson.  The land has been owned by the Abercrombie family since 1894, and Abercrombie says he would fight to protect his land from any threat.  “When all this started, I went to an eminent domain attorney,” Abercrombie said.  “I was willing to go to the Supreme Court, if I had to.”

He did not have to go to the Supreme Court.  As a result of feedback from residents and pushback from Twinkle Cavanaugh, then Alabama Public Service Commission president, the application for the Alabama Power dam project on Chandler Mountain was withdrawn and the mountain, with its beautiful landscape and rich history was saved. 

“Bringing these potential cultural losses to the forefront may have contributed to the demise of the project, but important political opposition is probably what made the difference,” says Terry Henderson.  Henderson, whose family has been around the mountain and Canoe Creek since around 1850, has lived on the south brow of the mountain for two years.  He is married to Linda Derry, a professional historical archaeologist, and worries as much about “unrestrained and uncontrolled visitation” in the area.  “These properties, structures, and vistas should be protected through legal, enforceable, verifiable development and access restraints,” says Henderson.

Ben Lyon agrees.  He was drawn to the mountain as a rock climber 20 years ago and has lived there for the past 12 years.  His property contains red ochre drawings and other findings important to Native American culture.  “I believe it’s as important as anything to preserve these,” says Lyons.  “It’s one of the few examples of pre-Woodlands depictions in the Coosa River Valley.”

Lyon says saving the mountain and its cultural history is important for the future of the children and for the families who make their living on the land.  “There’s a way of life on Chandler Mountain that would have been lost, and about a third of the mountain would have been lost,” said Lyon. 

Chandler Mountain is a place of tranquil beauty, a place where families live off the land and spend time in the outdoors.  It’s a land of history, of promise, and carries with it the burden of conserving it for future generations.  Conservationist Aldo Leopold stressed the importance of that responsibility when he wrote, “The oldest task in human history is to live on a piece of land without spoiling it.”  Together, the mountain’s current residents and those representing their Indigenous predecessors have made sure this sacred mountain will not be spoiled.

Camino de Santiago

Pell City resident makes the journey of a lifetime

Story by Paul South
Submitted Photos

For the pilgrims who annually flock to Spain from around the world to walk all or part of the Camino de Santiago, the reasons for their journey are as varied as they are.

For the hikers, it can be a trek of faith, fellowship, revelry, reflection, exploration or a communion with God and nature. Known as the Way of St. James, it might well be a tour mixing all of the above, ending at the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in northern Spain, where it is believed the remains of St. James the Great rest.

They made it! Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela

For Jean Barnett of Pell City, her 70-mile, weeklong journey on a portion of the Camino Frances or French Way, was a moveable feast of all of the above. The spark for her journey was first ignited by her yoga instructor, Terri Sellers, a five-time veteran of the journey, who was organizing a Camino trip for a small group of friends.

“I heard her talking about walking across Spain, going on this pilgrimage, and I was intrigued. I’d heard of it many years ago, and I decided if I didn’t do it now, I might never do it,” Barnett said.

Multiple reasons fueled her desire to tackle the journey.

“The challenge drew me in,” she said. “But the opportunity to do it with friends who were like minded attracted me to it.”

It came at a time, too, when she had wrestled with family health challenges.

“(The Camino) was just something I felt like I wanted to experience – to get back out and spend some time exploring and doing something that sounded challenging but was doable,” she said.

And there was the spiritual side.

“People have a lot of reasons for doing it, and mine was somewhat religious,” she said. “But being out on the trail gives you a chance to really meditate and have an opportunity to just kind of be with yourself paired with many opportunities for fellowship along the way. But I took time to pray and listen to the sounds of nature, which was one of the things I really loved – the early morning walks, listening to the bird calls, just the sounds of the world waking up.”

She added, “To be out there in a place where you could just be by yourself and think.”

And there were times of fellowship with her group and with other travelers along the road.

Rainy walk with crowd of Poncho-clad pilgrims nearing Santiago

“There’s a balance there,” she said.

Barnett, a former runner who competed in half-marathons, moved at a more deliberate pace in her pilgrimage. Deep reflection, introspection and fellowship don’t move at a racer’s pace. Camino de Santiago is an opportunity to escape from the daily grind.

“It’s something of a distraction that takes you out of your role in day-to-day life and the chance to just kind of contemplate the world and your purpose,” Barnett said.

Amid the deeper moments, there are the earthlier concerns, from fatigue to blisters on the trail. “You just take every day as it comes and deal with it,” she said.

What is the Camino de Santiago?

In 820, a tomb was discovered in Galicia believed to be the final resting place of St. James the Great. According to “The Camino de Santiago Survival Guide,” while the details are a bit fuzzy, the “Camino” was the beginning of Christian pilgrimages. It is believed that in 920, a Frenchman, Bretanaldo, was the first foreigner to walk the Camino. Some 438,683 people completed the Camino via a network of different routes and via different means. While nearly 95 percent of travelers walk the Camino, others travel via bicycle, horseback, sailboat, on crutches or in a wheelchair.

One interesting note: Some famous people have made the pilgrimage, including the King and Queen of Belgium, television host Jenna Bush Hagar and the acclaimed actor Martin Sheen.

There are several different routes for the Camino, all ending at the Cathedral de Santiago. As they get closer to Santiago and the Cathedral, they merge into one trail, crowded with pilgrims.  Here is a glimpse of the trails, taken from The Camino De Santiago Survival Guide:

The French (Frances) Way: This is the most commonly taken route of 780 kilometers from Roncesvalles to Galicia. This route passes through Pamplona, famous for the Running of the Bulls, written about in Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises.

Barnett and her group began their 70-mile journey in the town of Sarria.

The Northern (Norte) Way begins in Irun and passes through Bilbao, San Sebastian and other towns before entering Galicia.

 The Primitive Way: Beginning in Oviedo, this 321-kilometer journey merges with the French and Northern routes near the end.

The English Way (Ingles): The route, which begins in either Coruna or Ferrol and ends in Santiago is named for the pilgrims who originally traveled from the United Kingdom. The distance from Ferrol is 110 km. From Coruna, the distance is 75 km.

The Portuguese Way begins in either Lisbon, or more commonly in Porto. The inland route from the Portuguese capital Lisbon is 600 km, 620 km by the coastal route. From Porto, the inland trek is 230 km, 260 km the coastal way.

The Via de la Plata: The 1,000 km route begins in Seville, Spain and runs inland before arriving in Galicia.

Preparation and an early challenge on the trail

While others will travel all of one of the routes and “rough it” along the way, Barnett’s group traveled with a support van. Hotel reservations along the route were made in advance.

There were checkpoints along the way offering water and snacks and stops for lunch and dinner. Their luggage was also transported. It was somewhat akin to sherpas who aid hikers on an Everest journey.

One of the path markers outside historic church

“I’ve heard it referred to as “Pilgrim Lite,” she said. “We really did have a lot of support along the way, which made it really doable.”

 The Camino requires preparation physically, mentally, spiritually and emotionally.

“You know, I don’t think I adequately prepared for it, actually. I was so busy with everyday life and the things I had to do to make sure while I was gone my family was taken care of,” she said. “There was a lot I had to take care of before I could get away.”

At home, she’s also involved at her church, Pell City First United Methodist in trying to help it grow, and she was in rehab for a back injury for six weeks before the trip.”

“I wasn’t as adequately prepared as I needed to be – spiritually, mentally, any of that,” Barnett said. “The therapists helped me get to a point where I could do it without suffering too much.”

The biggest physical challenge came shortly after the long flight from the States to Europe. “On the first day, I got scared,” she said. There was swelling in my lower legs, and the trail was hilly with long inclines and declines. I had a hard time keeping my heart rate down because the swelling was putting pressure on my heart … I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to do it. I just had to take it very slow.”

A pair of compression socks saved her journey. Asked if that first day was the hardest on her portion of the Camino Frances, Barnett said, “Absolutely, it was. After that first day, it wasn’t a problem. But it was still very challenging. That’s a lot of miles, and it was hilly.”

That first day caused her to consider giving up, but the support and advice of her group kept her going. “I was ready to try again,” she said. “I didn’t want to give up.”

A favorite memory – moss-covered stone walls on a tree-lined path

For Barnett, the journey was part solitude, part introspection, part fellowship and more, a hybrid of all the reasons travelers make the pilgrimage. She and her group entered Santiago on the Thursday before Easter. After completing her Camino, she attended Easter Mass at the Cathedral of the Assumption of Our Lady in Porto, Portugal.

“It was amazingly beautiful and spiritual to celebrate in Porto’s majestic ancient cathedral,” she said.

While that may have been the spiritual climax of her trip, Barnett also encountered inspiration in human form. A pilgrim in front of her was walking slowly, with difficulty.

“As I got closer, I realized he was walking on crutches and carrying a backpack,” she said. “It occurred to me, that whatever issues I had or have in my life, I don’t have crutches. For him to take the journey and make it happen, it just touched me. He was my hero.”

 As she came alongside the man, she spoke to him.

“He had the most joyful, radiant smile,” Barnett recalled. “He had some age on him, but here he was doing something that most people on crutches would just consider impossible. And he was happy.”

There were other surprises on the walk. Musicians, alongside the trail, buskers who would happily take a Euro or two tossed into an open cello or guitar case, serenaded pilgrims. Groups of young people sang joyfully or laughed as they walked. Barnett encountered fellow pilgrims from around the world, on the trail and in bars and cafés in the villages along the route.

Nature offered signs of spring and of renewal, a pasture full of lambs or calves.

“It gave me another thought, to take this this time and think about the future and the importance of having this life and how you spend your time,” Barnett said.

As she passed centuries-old buildings, Barnett considered the early pilgrims in ancient days who made this journey.

“They did not have the modern conveniences we have – the high-tech shoes and gear – all the things that we access so easily. What did they do when they had issues? … We have so much.”

A favorite memory for Barnett is when she walked a tree-lined path along a stone wall covered in moss. “The moss was glistening, and it looked like carpeting in the shape of the rocks of the wall,” she said. “It was leading you from where you’ve been to where you’re going. It was a gorgeous, magical fairyland.”

She also warmly recalled the fragrance of a eucalyptus forest, ancient buildings, lovely murals. The Camino experience left her forever changed.

“It gave me a chance to focus on what’s important in life. We get so tied up in the daily routine, grocery shopping and cooking meals, and (the trip) gave me a chance for an inward focus, to think about the things that are important in life and relationships and this big world. There are so many places to go and people to meet. It’s eye opening.”

It helped her realize that “being on the Camino is a lot like life. You have to do what you need to do to get from Point A to Point B each day. But in this scenario, you are in nature all the time.”

And at each day’s end, as she laid down to sleep, she remembered the people, places and things she saw – welcoming people in breathtaking, yet peaceful places.

“It was a good time to take a pause in life, even though I was in motion most of the time. It was a pause for your mind to open up more to the spiritual aspect. Being outside. Communing with nature. Thinking about this wonderful world and God and what He has created for us and the responsibility that comes with preserving it.”

The Camino also impacted her perspective on the world.

“I wasn’t bombarded with news, but staying out of the daily news was good for my soul and good for my mind. (In the news), there’s always the bad and negative things going on. The Camino forces you to focus on the good and the beautiful.”

And when she arrived with her fellow pilgrims at the Cathedral of St. James the Great, she was greeted with cheers and applause. She wept with joy at the memory. They were there with pilgrims who had trekked the entire Camino de Santiago, but that did not dampen her triumphal entry.

“Oh my gosh, that was exhilarating,” Barnett said. “It was pouring rain off and on all day, and it was raining when we got to Santiago. But we were so excited to see the cathedral, to end the journey. About 10 kilometers out you could see the spires of the cathedral. I get goosebumps just thinking about it. It put more energy into our final few steps. … The energy level was amazing.”

It impacted her relationship with God.

“When I feel close to nature, I feel close to God. It’s an opportunity for a conversation with God. It was an opportunity to pray and to meditate while listening to nature.”

She thought of nature and art and history along the way – and the pilgrim on crutches.

“I felt blessed to speak to that man who was making his way at his pace with this huge smile on his face, and it made me think how blessed I was to be able to do this with a great group of people.”

Barnett offered a quote from Sellers, the yoga instructor who in part inspired her to tackle part of the Camino, a journey of beauty, discovery and the Divine. “It’s not about what you take with you, it’s what you leave behind.”

What did Barnett leave behind?

“I tried to leave stress and worry and take (home) the joy that I experienced.”

She offered counsel to those who may be considering the Camino de Santiago or any other challenge in life. “Follow your dreams,” she said. “If there’s something you want to experience, then make it happen. It’s a great big, beautiful world. Don’t shy away from something that, though it may be challenging, is an opportunity for growth.”

The trip, simply put, was “very nourishing for my soul.”

Quoting Sellers again, she described the magical, mystical journey: “As we venture away from our everyday lives and from the script of a typical trip or vacation, we are invited to open our eyes, hearts and minds to being a stranger in a strange land and see each day as unfolding minute by minute, step by step into a journey of challenge, renewal and hope. In other words, we are off on an adventure, and while it will offer times of comfort and awe, there may be times of challenge and obstacles. It comes with the Way.”

Have Puppy, Will Travel

Gaston Williamson enjoying life as a professional puppy transporter

Story by Scottie Vickery
Photos by Graham Hadley
Submitted photos

Gaston Williamson spent most of his career helping to connect consumers with the products and services they wanted. He’s doing much the same thing in retirement, but the process is a lot more fun.

These days, the former regional product manager for UPS is focusing on transporting cute, cuddly, playful puppies to their forever homes and families.  He’s a canine courier of sorts, and his reward is lots of puppy kisses and happy smiles.

“The best part is the excitement I see when I make the final delivery, especially with the children,” Williamson said. “It gives me such a thrill to get to see them.”

Gaston holding one of his puppy ‘fares’

Williamson, who lives in Cropwell, was looking for an English Springer Spaniel for his wife, Cynthia, when he met a breeder in Tennessee. They struck up a friendship, and sometimes when Williamson’s work took him nearby, he’d stop in to see the puppies.

“One time I mentioned I was going to be retiring, and the breeder mentioned this and said I should do it,” he said. “She’s the one who got me into it.”

Williamson had helped transport rescue dogs before, so it wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar concept. After hurricanes in Texas and Louisiana in 2017 resulted in a large number of displaced dogs, he became part of a rescue chain made up of volunteers from across the country who helped transport the animals to shelters on the Northeast Coast.

 “I’d drive a 100-mile leg and pass the dogs off to someone else,” he said. The process continued until the dogs were ultimately delivered to shelters until they could be reunited with their owners or placed in new homes. “I was still working at the time, but I did that for a couple of years on the weekends,” Williamson said.

That’s why, when he retired in 2021, he became more intrigued with the idea of working with breeders. And now, the name of his Facebook page, Have Puppy Will Travel, pretty much sums up his philosophy these days.

“There’s no telling how many thousands of miles I’ve covered delivering puppies,” he said.

One of two puppies delivered during an 800-mile trip

So why does he do it? “Number one, I love dogs, and I enjoy the puppies,” said Williamson, adding that he and Cynthia have four dogs, three of which are Springer Spaniels. “Also, I get to see a lot of places I’ve never been. I traveled a lot with my job – I traveled eight states – and I wanted to keep traveling as much as I could.”

The experience is a rewarding one, as well. “A lot of times, I deliver to families who have just lost another dog. It just gives me a kick to see the smiles on their faces.”

Williamson, who also is a driver for St. Clair Area Transportation (SCAT), primarily works with eight breeders in Georgia, North Carolina, Kentucky and Tennessee. “You’ve got to be careful because you can run into some puppy mills, which I don’t do,” he said.

He vets all of the breeders he works with and makes sure they are certified by Good Dog, an organization that helps ensure its breeders follow responsible breeding practices.  Although there have been exceptions, the majority of dogs he transports are Spaniels.

“I’ve had requests for cats, pot-bellied pigs and rabbits,” he said. “I’ve mostly stuck with Springer Spaniels since I know the breed so well.”

Williamson had no idea the gig would become such a big part of his retirement years. “It started out as a hobby, but I go about two or three times a month,” he said. Sometimes it’s a quick trip to Tennessee, but other times there’s a lot more involved.

“A few weeks ago, I left home about 6 a.m. and drove to Bardstown, Kentucky,” he said. “I picked up a puppy and headed to Alpena, Arkansas. I dropped the dog off at 9:30 p.m. and drove 1,007 miles in one day. I got a motel room real quick.”

Another time he picked up a puppy at the Atlanta airport that had come from the Czech Republic and delivered it to a woman in Kentucky. In cases like that, the dog is shipped via air cargo. “It’s a controlled cargo part of the plane that’s heated, cooled and has oxygen,” Williamson said. “I’ve been real impressed with the way the airlines take care of the dogs.”

Gaston and three of his four dogs

He’s not just going to airports to pick up puppies, though. A lot of times, he acts as a “flight nanny” and accompanies the puppies on the flight. “You can take a puppy on an airplane as long as it can fit in a flexible carrier that can go under the seat in front of the passenger” Williamson said.

He’s taken lots of plane trips with puppies, and he said they usually sleep for most of the flight. So far, he and his charges have flown to Denver twice, Boston twice, Boise, Dallas and to Bozeman, Montana and Washington, D.C.

It normally costs $85 to $125 for the puppy to fly, but that’s included in the expenses paid by the new owner or the breeder. Williamson charges a fee in addition to the expenses he concurs, whether it’s gas, plane fares or lodging. “My limit is about 13 hours a day,” he said. “Anything over that, I’m probably going to get a hotel room.”

At last count, Williamson had traveled to or driven through about 30 states while transporting puppies. He’s dropped off precious cargo in New Mexico, Phoenix, Utah and Indiana, to name a few. He’s driven through all kinds of weather, including snow, high winds and record flooding. Sometimes it’s a day trip while others take two or three days.

Cynthia has joined him on a couple of the shorter drives, but sometimes he and his wife take a trip later that was sparked by one of his deliveries. “I’ll go on a trip, and I’ll see something interesting. I’ll come back and talk about it, and we’ll end up taking a trip there,” he said.

Williamson said one of his favorite trips was when he delivered some puppies to a family in Philadelphia on Dec. 22 one year. The only thing the parents told their children was that they were going to the airport. “They probably thought they were going to Disney World or the Bahamas or something,” Williamson said with a laugh.

The kids weren’t disappointed, however. “Those three little kids went crazy over their puppies,” he said. “They were just screaming and going crazy. It was so much fun. It’s things like that that make this so rewarding.”

One Mile at a Time

Former Odenville resident wins 2025 Iditarod Dogsled Race

Top Photo: Jessie Holmes, formerly of Odenville, taking part in the Iditarod Dogsled Race, which he won this year.
Photo by Dave Poyzer, online at davepoyzer.com

Story by Roxann Edsall
Submitted photos

A trip by car from Odenville to Boston is 1,159 miles. From Odenville to Tucumcari, New Mexico is just under 1,100 miles. Now imagine a similar distance in the harsh, winter environment in Alaska, but instead of being inside your warm car, you are standing on the footboard of a sled racing through the frozen tundra at 10 to 12 miles per hour.

Alabama native Jessie Holmes knows firsthand the experience, as a musher and veteran racer of long-distance dog sled races.

He won this year’s 1,128-mile Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race, the longest Iditarod in the race’s 53-year history. Due to a lack of snowfall along parts of the normal route, the official start of the 2025 race was moved from Willow, Alaska to Fairbanks.

The routing of the race was also altered, a precaution made to protect the safety of the mushers and their dogs, but adding over 100 miles to the grueling journey.

Holmes crossed the finish line in Nome at 2:55 a.m. on March 14, having completed the race in 10 days, 14 hours, 55 minutes and 41 seconds, just a little more than three hours ahead of second place finisher, veteran musher Matt Hall. The win brought with it a check for $57,200.

This was the 8th Iditarod for the 43-year-old Holmes, his strongest Iditarod finish. He placed 3rd in 2024 and in 2022.

Success, for Holmes, has been hard fought. Born in Sylacauga and raised in Phenix City by his mom, Judy Holmes, he admits to running away and getting into trouble a lot. As a teenager, he spent two years living with his father in Odenville and attended St. Clair County High School. Still getting into trouble there, he left school and headed out West hoping to figure things out.

“I was traveling, jumping trains, hitchhiking across the country working odd jobs,” says Holmes. “I settled in Montana for a little while working for a family. Then I headed up north into the Yukon Territory, wanting to be a mountain man.” He ultimately landed in Alaska, where he has thrived living off the grid.

He calls the wilderness the cure for the troubles of his youth. “It was what my soul needed,” admits Holmes. He credits the loving guidance of his grandfather, Gene Richmond, with his love of the wilderness lifestyle. An army veteran of World War II, the Korean War, and the Vietnam War, his grandfather lived on Fort Benning, just minutes from his Phenix City home.

As a youngster, Holmes was happy there playing with the chickens and beagles and in the garden. “I was always trying to round up stray dogs everywhere I went and was always getting in trouble for it. I’ve had a strong empathy for animals my whole life,” Holmes says. “If you ran over a turtle, I was in tears.”

From his grandfather, young Jessie learned to hunt, fish, trap, garden and raise dogs, skills he still uses to provide for himself and for his animals. His grandfather has since passed, but his “granny” still lives in Phenix City.

With his human family so far away, Holmes’ describes his dogs as family. And a big family it is. Working with 60 to 70 dogs in his kennel, he breeds, raises and trains dogs for his teams and for other mushers.

He has apprentices who work with him at his homestead and learn about training sled dogs. He still trains his “A-team,” which is about 30 dogs, while his apprentices work with the “B-team” and “C-team” dogs. He’s mentoring these young people just as he was mentored by special people when he first arrived in Alaska.

Gettting ready to bed down with his dogs for a short rest

Holmes gratefully acknowledges the men who took him under their wings. Jerry (Gerald) Riley, the 1976 Iditarod champion, was influential in steering the Alabama transplant through some challenging times. “He kind of adopted me,” says Holmes. “He’s the one that really saw that I could be a champion and convinced me of it. I had kind of a negative perception of myself.”

Riley taught him some important wilderness skills and got him interested in dog breeding and racing. “I learned a lot about race tactics from him, like psyching out your competitors and not letting people play mind games on you. He was a master at race strategy.” Riley never got to see Holmes win the Iditarod, having passed away last fall.

For a few years, Holmes lived in Nenana and had other Iditarod racers as neighbors. 1983 Champion Rick Mackey taught Holmes more on strategy, numbers and dog care. Bill Cotter, whose top finish was 3rd place, became a father figure to him. “All three of them taught me so much,” says Holmes.

“They came from a different era of mushing,” Holmes adds. “They didn’t typically travel all through the night because they didn’t have the high-level headlamps that we have now. All the gear is a lot more high-tech now. When it felt tough for me, I thought about them. I focused on doing this for a bigger reason than myself. I did it for all the people who believed in me and for those mentors that have passed.”

Reality Star

The Iditarod isn’t Holmes’ only claim to fame. When a National Geographic channel series producer was looking for cast members for Life Below Zero, a show about sustenance living in remote villages of the Alaskan wilderness, friends recommended Holmes. He was cast in the show, which ran from 2015 to 2023, and won nine Academy of Television Arts & Sciences prime time Emmy Awards.

“I wasn’t interested in the show at first, but I was paid very well and that gave me the income boost that I needed to be able to do the racing and the lifestyle I wanted,” Holmes explains.

Jessie tends to the needs of his dogs before his own

He had already been excelling in mid-length races but hadn’t had the money to put into training and the expenses for the longer races, like the Iditarod. With his earnings from Life Below Zero, he was able to buy better dogs, breed them and increase the quality of his team.

He began training for his first Iditarod, and the show documented and filmed that first attempt and his second year. He was named Rookie of the Year with a 7th place finish in his first attempt in 2018.

“You’re cold, hungry, sleepy,” describes Holmes of the race experience. “You’re excited and, you know, scared. It’s almost every emotion you can imagine, all wrapped up in each day.” There are many dangers on the trail, including frostbite, whiteout conditions, injuries to the musher or the dogs and dangers from wildlife.

In the 2024 race, he ended up breaking his hand defending his dogs from an angry moose. “We kind of came up on it, and it was sleeping on a real narrow technical spot on the trail,” Holmes recalls. “The dogs were just trying to go by, and it tried to stomp some of the dogs in the team. It reared up and stomped towards the dogs and me and the sled. We’d just startled it, and it was using its survival instinct, but I came face-to-face with it and had to punch it in the nose.”

Very real dangers during races also include sleep deprivation and complete exhaustion, even to the point of hallucination. “I’ve only hallucinated once years ago,” says Holmes. “I was in a pretty depleted state. I was along the coast and saw semi-trucks going down the sea ice and going like 60 miles an hour. I was in this crazy state of believing that it was really happening, and I was so irritated that they would let that happen on the race trail. Then there was like a massive white wall about three feet high, and I felt like I had to duck under it, so I threw the sled on the side and ducked underneath it. When I jumped back up and threw the sled upright, I looked back and it wasn’t there.” That experience shook him, and he ended taking a 9th place finish in that year’s Iditarod. Since then, he’s learned to manage his energy and prioritize his health.

His health has been an issue for him the past three years as he recovered from nearly being crushed by a house. In September of 2022, Holmes was helping in the recovery efforts after Typhoon Merbok hit the coastline of Western Alaska nearly destroying the town of Golovin. He and other volunteers were pulling out wet insulation and plywood from under a house and when he pulled his last nail, a portion of the underside of the house collapsed, pinning him beneath. Friends pulled him out and got him to the hospital.

“I broke three ribs and shattered my wrist,” tells Holmes. “That all happened at the peak of training for that year’s Iditarod. I entered that race with a lot of physical problems and basically emaciated at 142 pounds. So, I had a tough time on the trail. I ended up getting 5th that year.

With his health a priority, this year’s race strategy was to catch a one-hour nap each time he had to stop. He planned five-hour rest stops to give himself ample time to get his dogs taken care of and to give them 3½ hours of uninterrupted sleep. After they were put to bed, he made sure his hydration and nutrition needs were met, which left him about an hour of sleep time.

“So, the first thing I do right when I get stopped is to direct them off the trail somewhere,” explains Holmes. “My leaders listen to me, so a few commands, and they’ll park themselves off the trail.”

Having settled the dogs off the trail, he gets a cooker going to melt snow. It takes 3 ½ gallons of boiling water to thaw the meat his dogs will need. Because of the incredible amounts of energy needed for the race, sled dogs needs approximately two pounds of meat at each feeding. Holmes also uses the boiling water to thaw the ointments and massage oils to help each dog with sore muscles and foot abrasions.

“After they’ve gotten their ointments and massage oils, I add the kibble and supplements to their meat,” Holmes adds. “When they’re done, I put their coats on them and get them settled in the straw bed. Then it’s time for me to eat, repack my sled and climb in the straw with them for about an hour of sleep.”

Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race rules mandate three stops along the race route, with one being a 24-hour stop at a major checkpoint and the other two being 8-hour stops. These required stops are designed to ensure that there is ample time for dog care and rest for the musher and his or her team.

It is also where mushers arrange for resupply shipments to be picked up. “I use them mostly for refueling points,” explains Holmes. “I get my straw, fuel for my cooker and my drop bags with supplies that I’ve ordered. I don’t stay in the towns. I camp in the country with my dogs.” That way, he says, he can keep his focus on the race and have fewer distractions.”

Holmes is very proud of all his dogs, particularly the team that won the Iditarod. “It was pretty special to have like that whole 10-dog team that I finished with be those that I bred and raised and have a deep connection to,” he says, adding that he loves them and wants them to succeed like a parent wanting to see his children succeed. “You know they’re not your children, but it’s a very blurred line for me.”

Two months before the start of the Iditarod, Holmes and his team won the Copper Basin 300, a 300-mile race. Then, just three weeks after winning the Iditarod, Holmes won the Kobuk 440. “That was my goal for the season,” says Holmes. “I saw how good the team was, and I knew we were at the peak of our career and had put the work in. To accomplish big goals, you have to set big goals.”

Holmes loves a challenge. “My goal was never to just live the simplest life in the world. It was to thrive in the wilderness,” he says. “I’m just an odd duck up here. I came from Alabama with a dream and a passion, and I pursued it to no end.

“I think it’s our southern heritage, the resilience and toughness that characterizes us from the South. When you’re hitting some terrible adversities, you’ve got to take it one day at a time, even one mile at a time.”

Editor’s Note: A special thank you goes out to Dave Poyzer for working with us to make sure we had the perfect cover shot for this edition. That is an outstanding photo taken in a difficult environment to shoot in. You can find his photos online at davepoyzer.com.

Cowboy Chiropractor

Rodeo champion Cody Stubbs back home again

Story by Carol Pappas
Staff and submitted photos

It’s been quite a ride, but the young man who at 15 had amassed dozens of championships in the rodeo circuit, is back home in Moody practicing chiropractic care as a full-fledged doctor of chiropractic.

Throughout his high school years, Cody Stubbs was a rodeo sensation – bull riding, chute dogging (steer wrestling), goat tying and, his absolute favorite, team roping, among other rodeo events.

Staff from left, Dr. Shawn Stubbs, Dr. Cody Stubbs, Ginny Pate and Misty Cunningham

Beyond the championship buckles and saddles, his talent earned him a scholarship to the University of West Alabama for undergraduate school, where he was pursuing orthopedic medicine.

By his second year of undergraduate studies, he realized his philosophy of care aligned more with chiropractic than traditional medicine – a more holistic approach of education, wellness and lifestyle. It turned out to be a “lightbulb” moment about his future.

It seemed a natural path to take. His mother, Dr. Shawn Stubbs, has owned Crossroads Chiropractic in Moody for the past 25 years. Cody “grew up” there, she said, flashing photos of him playing in the clinic as a toddler or sporting his name-embroidered shirt he wore to escort patients back to rooms as a youngster.

It’s always been like family around the clinic. Receptionist Ginny Pate used to be Cody’s nanny. Now she’s assisting all grown-up Dr. Cody. 

He graduated from West Alabama in Livingston, where he met his future wife, Raven, who was a rodeo champion, too, having finished fourth in the world in Barrel Racing at the collegiate level.

Out of all of his buckles, the one he received for sportsmanship is Cody’s favorite

After college, he headed to Life University in Marietta, Ga., outside Atlanta, where he earned his doctorate.

Then, it was like homecoming, returning to Moody and Crossroads Chiropractic, where he settled in as “Dr. Cody” in October.  “It’s the best job in the world,” Cody said. “I am fortunate to be able to do it and see people get better without surgery or drugs.”

His mother said she is fortunate to have him back home working with her. “I love it. It’s like a dream come true working with him, my son following in my footsteps. The patients request him, and I get to play with my grandbaby.”

That’s her plan, she said, spending more time with the grandchildren. “Cody’s handling it great, above expectations. He’s just wonderful. He is really good with the elderly population, very respectful.”

Cody Stubbs Chute Dogging Alabama State Champion at National Finals, Gallup, New Mexico, 2013

He enjoys working with the older patients, too. He makes them laugh and puts them at ease. The aging patient traditionally has a number of doctors’ appointments. His goal is to make the appointment with him one they don’t dread.

“Everybody leaves with a smile on their face after seeing him, besides feeling better,” Dr. Shawn said.

Returning home to a piece of land between Moody and Odenville has stirred those old cowboy memories in him, and he talks of getting a horse and roping again one day. “I’m a country boy,” he said. Atlanta was “a lot of city for me,” so it’s good to be home on the land among the animals and wide-open spaces.

But for now, he’s content to take care of priorities – tending to the practice, his wife and one-year-old, Weston, and a second baby on the way. “I’ll be back soon. I have other priorities to get to. Family comes first, then I’ll get back to it.