There is a specific kind of friend who insists on dragging you somewhere with zero context, just a vague promise that it will be worth it and a look on their face that dares you to argue.
I have learned over the years to trust that friend, because every single time I have followed them somewhere without asking too many questions, I have ended up eating something I still think about weeks later.
That is exactly what happened on a quiet weekday evening near a Georgia river, at a spot that looked, from the outside, like it had absolutely nothing to prove. It did not need to prove anything…