I am convinced God created autumn with me in mind, and my husband is convinced God made bratwurst with him in mind. So it made more than a little sense for us to climb into our car last weekend and drive toward Northeast Georgia’s mountains with our windows rolled down, two pumpkin spice lattes in hand and dreaming of the endless sausages, sauerkraut and suds offered by Helen’s famous Oktoberfest. I can already hear your protests: “But it’s September.”