ROAD TO CHOTA & Lost!

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I just got through the second day of three off from work and it seems all I have done is repair and service equipment.  It has to be done to keep the adventures going.  Today I replaced a worn out tire on the boat trailer.  We definitely have to have that piece of equipment in constant working order.  What I thought would take an hour turned out to take two and a half hours.  Trailer tires are really hard to change and it's just as difficult getting the new tire to hold air.  Long story and won't get into it here.  Last week I changed the gearing on the motorcycle to make it more highway friendly.  Big mistake!  I changed the gearing back to factory early this afternoon.  It was too late in the day to start an adventure on the water so I took off on the bike to see what I could turn up.  I headed for Chota.  I haven't been there in years and it was within my reach this afternoon.  The shot below is the best I could get.  The stone was sitting on a sharp angle to level.  The large print are readable at least. 

Chota was the name of the principle town of the Overhill Cherokee.  It was the capital (lack of a better word) of the Cherokee people from the mid 1740's until around 1787.  There was another principle Cherokee town, Tanasi, that existed at the same period as Chota.  I get the two towns mixed up because Tanasi was THE principle town and later Chota became number one.  A principal chief named Oconostota emerged from Chota as top dog of the Cherokee people.  Both towns are now under water due to the construction of the Tellico Dam in 1979.  The graves of Chota were opened and the bodies reentered at the Sequoyah Museum located on Route 360 South of the town of Vonore, Tennessee.  It's interesting to note that a gentleman named John Sevier raided and burned both Cherokee towns in 1788 in reprisal for Cherokee acts of war upon local families at the time.  Mr. Sevier later went on to become the first governor of Tennessee.  By the way;  the term Tanasi is the word that eventually instigated the name of this state---Tennessee.  Whew!  There's a bit of history for you.  Oh, by the way;  The old chief Oconostota is actually buried at the Chota monument.  He is the only body there.

The Chota monument consists of eight pillars.  A pillar for each of the seven Cherokee clans and one for the Cherokee nation.  I've shown them below:

Finally the pillar that designates the Cherokee nation:

Below is a view of the pillars as they are grouped together.

When I look out over the lake it's difficult for me to envision what Tanasi and Chota looked like.  I mean, the Little Tennessee River was the main waterway of the day.  Tellico Dam is so huge that it erases even the minds ability to visualize what once was, but is now hidden beneath her water.  Well, at least the old chief is at rest beneath a fitting monument to his people.

 Chota is located in a scenic area that boasts beautiful views of the lake and the mountains.

I see an island in the shot above that is calling for a camp out adventure by canoe.  The area surrounding the pillars is well kept by the Cherokee Indians.  There is no litter anywhere which speaks loudly for the importance this sacred spot is to the first, true natives of this area.

 Even the parking lot is immaculate.  The monument lays a short walk from the parking area through beautiful manicured grasses and large expanses of cat tails and shoreline.

 Douglas and Shade would have a ball running through those cat tails.







Every time I see a soft shoreline, I envision the Gheenoe parked with her bow just touching the soft sand.

The ground that Chota sits upon is protected from water erosion by the placement of large rocks all along the shoreline.  Big boats make big wakes (waves) that are capable of changing the looks of a shoreline in as little as one boating season.

The pathway that leads from the parking lot to the monument is beautiful in itself.  I am looking forward to coming here to listen to the whippoorwills and chuck wills widows mid March.

I had better saddle up and go put some miles on the bike.  It is running flawlessly and I am enjoying the afternoon on it.  I believe I'll go exploring.

Mt. Pleasant Road.  Now, here is someplace I've never been.  Here we go.

Check out that old, old building above.  This is the Tennessee I know.  Tennessee sure ain't Pigeon Forge or Gattlinburg.  Those are for the tourists and a lot of tourists visit there.  This, where I am standing, is Tennessee.  When I see a trail like the one below;  I am drawn to it like a magnet.  I wonder what is up there?  Maybe someday I'll take the KLR up that little trace.

I'm beginning to understand where I am in relation to Route 129, which is across the lake from here.  There are camp grounds on this side of Chilhowee Lake that I've seen from the highway.  I've always wondered how to access them by road.  Now I know.  The road has become narrow and littered with gravel.  This is getting interesting.

Above is Chilhowee Dam.  It looks strange when viewed from this side.  Route 120 runs along the mountain on the other side.  This road will surely lead to those elusive camp sites I've wondered about.

The camping is free.  Unbelievable!  Free!  The camping areas appear clean and they all are on the edge of the lake with access.  What a nice place!  I'll bet they fill up fast in the Summer months.

These camp sites are perfect for a person or a family who has a small fishing boat or canoe.  The entire weekend could be made into an exciting adventure.  Chilhowee is a huge body of water and would entertain fishermen and families alike.  This is a very nice, clean camping area.  It's nice to see that people are taking pride in the privilege of using it.  The lake access site is even nice.  Sometimes they are less than desirable.  However, they are not for Douglas and me.  We like elbow room.

It's time to get on up the road.  I think I'll run this to wherever just to see what I can see.  I've never been on this one.  Ah;  a delightful little waterfall.   Maybe I should say a tall waterfall.

I sure wouldn't want to run off the edge of this road.

The hard pavement is starting to become broken and gravel is quickly replacing the asphalt.  Yep;  saw it coming.  Guess we'll be on gravel from here on out.

I've been on this road now for eighteen miles and there hasn't been a road shooting off to either side in all that time.  I've got no idea where I am.  All I know is the road has been on the incline the whole time.  It has carried me far back into the mountains.  I can't get my bearings because of all the curves and sharp turns that take me in several directions in short order.  The properties along the route are, shall we say, adequate housing.  These are homes of average Tennesseans with average or below average incomes.  Most are neat but, there is always that "special looking place."

Now, now;  don't be hasty and start thinking ill of the nice folks residing on the property above.  It takes a lot of years to accumulate all those possessions.  Many folks like to make the most of their purchases and are reluctant to let them go just because they show a bit of age.  Besides;  I can't imagine where a fella would take his junk to around here.  The nearest town is, well, out there somewhere.  The folks above are probably waiting until they have enough junk to make a truck load and will take it to the refuse pile in one run.  Ya;  that's it.

I still have no idea where I am.  All I know is that this road has turned to gravel miles back and continues to climb up into the mountains.  I'm glad I have a six gallon tank of gas.  Actually, I'm glad I filled the tank up before venturing out this afternoon.  At last;  the road is descending the mountain.  I was getting worried there for awhile.  At last;  a stop sign.  But, no signs indicating my location.  Perfect!  We'll go right.  Seems like right is correct.

Now what?  Where am I?  Could I be in North Carolina?  Route 129 runs into North Carolina.  I've been riding now for over 25 miles and most of those miles were on gravel.  I could be anywhere.

Oh no!  Give me a break!  I know where Citico Camp Ground is.  That road took me on a big 25 mile circle and brought me back to a spot about a mile away from the Chota monument.  How bout that?!  Amazing!  Now, just what was someone thinking when they designed that long piece of road?  All it amounts to is a 25 or 28 mile loop through nothingness only to return to the beginning.  Strange place this Tennessee.  Mighty strange!

It's been a delightful afternoon with some pleasant twists and turns.  I thoroughly enjoyed the motorcycle and am happy with the way it runs.  You didn't notice, I'm sure, but the windshield is held on with duct tape.  I hit a turkey the other day and the bolts that secure the shield in place fractured the plastic shield.  A new one is on it's way.  The rest of the ride home was uneventful so I won't make mention of it here.  I found a new road and learned how to access the camp sites on the other side of Chilhowee Lake.  The time was well spent this afternoon not to mention very enjoyable.  Ha;  I guess the ride was a mini adventure.  See ya next time.  Thanks for tuning in to my blog.

ONE MORE CHANCE AT THE OTTERS & A LAZY AFTERNOON

Sit the beer down and let your mind relax for just one minute and look at a pretty little brook.

click on photos to enlarge

I decided to give one more try at photographing the otters on Abrams Creek.  I arrived at 8:30AM and promptly launched the Mistral canoe onto murky water.  It's been raining hard the last couple days and the water of Abrams is coffee colored. 

There was no wind when I set out but, it has grown in intensity since I've taken vigil from the left bank of the channel.  I've been here for an hour and still haven't seen an otter.  Actually, I've not seen a living creature since I arrived.

The wind makes the 40 degree temperature feel a lot colder.  I didn't dress for a cold windy day and I'm on the verge of not being comfortable.  I know better too.  It'll not happen again.  The day will warm up eventually.  If this wind keeps up I may find it difficult to get back to the truck.

I planned a camp out on Calderwood Lake tonight but am thinking twice about it.  I've seen the kind of wind that lake draws and I don't care to be in it if the temperatures are near 40 degrees.  The night time in a tent would be no problem but, if the wind was up in the morning and the temps holding cold;  it could be a miserable paddle back to the truck.
Spring is just arriving and there isn't any sense in rushing along too rapidly.  I am dying to camp on Calderwood though.

Wow;  my fingers are getting cold.  That is one cold wind coming across the water!  I'll give it another half hour and then I'm getting out of here.  There are four large fish splashing on top the water.  At first I though it was a beaver smacking his tail on the surface.   Then I saw the first fish rocket out of the water and splash back down.  Judging from their color they are bass.  At least it's something to watch.  There certainly isn't anything else going on in the animal world  that I can see.

This Mistral is definitely more wind sensitive than the Esquif Champlain.  That is due to the Prospector style bow and stern design.  The high ends of the canoe catch more wind than a canoe built with a lower profile front and back.  This boat definitely requires ballast in the front when paddling solo, as I do.  It displaces very little water and the rocker set at 3.5 inches makes it respond to the quick puffs of breeze.  The bow definitely needs to be down in the water.  It's not a big deal, especially with this wind today, but would be something to deal with in high winds for sure.

  You can see by the photo at the left how the surface is rippled by the wind.  Actually, I'm not having any difficulty at this point.  This boat is a great handling craft and responds to corrective paddle stokes immediately.  It is a fast canoe and I should be able to make good time getting back to the truck.


The paddle strokes are warming me up and I can ignore the cold now.  Of course it's later in the morning too.  I like to look along the shoreline for little creeks that flow down the mountain side.  I find the sound of water in such brooks to be comforting.  Such was the little brook I filmed that is the opening movie at the start of this blog entry.

This little brook is more water run-off than a real waterway.  But, it's pretty and has a gentle sound.  I find myself stopping at almost all of these little trickles that I come upon.  There's something magnetic about them. 

I almost feel that I have wasted this precious time out here this morning looking for otters.  I purposefully left Douglas home so as not to disturb any curious otters in the vicinity.  I could have brought him and it wouldn't have mattered.  But then, I didn't know that when I started out.  I will go home and take Douglas and Shade to the forests for a run this afternoon.  I sure miss him and I could see the disappointment in his face when I left him this morning.

I had a difficult time lifting the big canoe over my head to load it on the truck this morning.  My left arm has a muscle ache that just won't go away.  I'm not doing it any good by lifting this 60 pound canoe to my shoulders.  I have to get the thing to the water somehow and the top of the truck is the only way I have of doing it.  I've sure had some aches and pains over the past two months.  I'm not letting a few aches and pains get in the way of paddling.  Funny thing;  my left arm didn't hurt while paddling.  There must be a different set of muscles used for paddling canoes. 

Douglas was delighted to see me pull in the driveway at home.  I went straight to him and said "lets go boy."  He was at the truck door in a flash.  I took him to the old state park where he could swim and chase squirrels.  Douglas likes to search around every bush along the way.  He actually pushes through each bush along the way.  I laughed out loud as rabbit after rabbit would run out the other side.  He finally saw one and gave chase.  I whipped the long lens up and snapped two pictures.  They follow:

 The above shot is a piece of luck for sure.  That cottontail is really moving.  His front feet are projecting between his rear feet which are under the rabbit's head.  He's full throttle away from Douglas.  The following shot isn't really good at all but I thought I'd throw it up here.

Douglas didn't stand a chance of catching that hare.  He's so very funny!

I'ts been a nice day.  I even did a little maintenance on the Kawasaki.  I may take it out tomorrow for a spin.  This day was intended to end at Calderwood Lake in a tent but didn't.  It will happen very soon.  Thanks for looking in.  See you tomorrow.  I'm sure I'll accomplish something worth entering on this blog.