ABRAMS AND PANTHER REVISITED

click on picture to enlarge Today was sort of special. Today I went canoeing with a friend. Very unusual for me. But I enjoyed the whole experience. How nice it is to talk to someone when I stop! My friend Shaun and I tossed the canoes in the water at the route 129 bridge that crosses Abrams Creek at Chillhowie. There was a mild wind with sudden gusts that would attempt to blow us across the lake at times. Wind also pushes the water in what ever direction it is blowing and sets up currents that move with it. Our canoes were very susceptible to these fast changing currents. One moment Shaun was to my immediate left and the next he was clear against the left bank of the river. I had all I could do to keep my boat running straight up the river too. The slightest wind would catch the side of my light canoe and push it effortlessly in whatever direction it wanted. All I could do is paddle furiously using giant sweep strokes to try and maintain my course. It was great fun! The day was cold. We could see our breaths all morning. It never got to 40 degrees on the water. We paddled up Abrams Creek to the "Y" and went right to Panther Creek. The shore line had rhododendrons and mountain laurel in thick patches sporadically placed in a "hear and there" fashion. It wasn't thick enough to be impenetrable if one decided to hike along the stream. We did pull over once to look at a small mountain stream tumbling into the main channel and noticed either a beaver or an otter swimming up the center of the stream where we had just passed. In our haste to retrieve cameras from the boats and bumbling about like two moose bulls; the critter disappeared. We finally made it to the head waters of Panther and tied off the boats for a walk about. It is spectacular up there. This is truly a wilderness setting out of a book written by James Fennemor Cooper. At any moment the Deer Slayer could walk out of the forest and he would be in his 1753 element. Gorgeous. The sounds of a mountain stream cascading over and around rocks and boulders is mesmerising and finally tumbling into the bigger body of water that makes Panther Creek. This particular spot is a place that is hard to leave. It is splendor personified. Tranquility, peace and gorgeous mountain scenery abound. Thank God it's in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park and safe from realty people. We left the headwaters of Panther Creek and quietly paddled downstream to Abrams Creek. Abrams had a fairly healthy flow of water pushing against us, but it had it's calm sections also. The wind seemed to blow against us a bit more as we traveled upstream toward our destination. The water became calm and we were really making time. I could even fool around with the canoe a bit in order to align myself with Shaun to capitalize on photo opportunities. We came up on the headwaters and looked for a place to beach the boats. But Shaun just had to try to paddle up to the creek outlet through some fairly heavy current. I chuckled inside as I watched what I knew was futile work. But it's all fun. He didn't have a chance to beat that water. He was going in the other direction in the picture above; upstream. As you can see he got swept around and pointed downstream. Funny! It was really fun watching him flail about out there. Actually he displayed a fair amount of control over that heavy canoe. Fun to watch! We finally beached the boats and took a break. This place is another gift of Nature. Abrams runs all the way back across the mountain to Cades Cove. Thats well over 20 miles away from this spot as the crow flies. It even runs under ground through a limestone mountain and re emerges again filled with nutrients and minerals that make this water ultra pristine. Well, that is until it meanders through medows over there on the other side of the mountain where large cattle enterprises polute the stream with cattle droppings and silt from farming. The silt is heavy enough to cover the stream bottom and the associated gravel and stones that harbor trout eggs. And yes, you guessed it; trout do not do well in that environment. I doubt I'll be back here in the near future so I drink in the beauty. Even after we shoved off from the shoreline, we just let the current float us downstream. We used our paddles infrequently and then just to rudder the boat on course. It sure was a great day. A grand day. Paul; you missed a good un! Below is a short movie clip of my friend fighting the current while trying to break out of the Abrams Creek channel into the main lake.

SWEET ALMONDINE

Shade; where are you? Shade; Come! Good boy Douglas! Good boy.

SWEET ALMONDINE

click photo to enlarge Shade; where are you? Shade; Come! Good boy Douglas! Good boy. It's a chilly day down on the East Tellico hiking trail. The clouds are gray and the breeze is bringing on the smells of rain. A huge storm is brewing with a severe drop in temperature according to the weather forecasters. They aren't usually correct on their predictions, but this time my senses tell me we're in for a big one. So, I'm hurrying along the lakeside trail with my guys so I can get them home before the rains come. Another hundred yards will bring us out at the truck. But what is this? A small brown shape laying beside the trail; tail wagging, sort of. The tail doesn't seem to know weather to wag entheuastically or not. There is apprehension present in the little dog. Yes, another dog! A brown and white boxer mix dog was laying on its stomach at the edge of the trail watching me as I approached. The dog appeared to be very tired. It's head bobbed up and then down as I came near. My hand placed gently upon it's head calmed the apprehension in the little dog. It was a typical find. No collar or identification, but the mark of a collar was on the hair around the neck. People! What future do they predict for this little dog? Do they care? Even if there wasn't a storm coming; I would have taken the dog home. As it turned out; this was a lucky dog as the storm that finally arrived was huge. Her assimilation into my pack of guys was uneventful and Almondine (yes, a girl) found her place within it. She was taken to the vet for her shots and vaccinations and heartworm tested. Evidently someone cared enough for her to leash train her. She walks at my right side on the leash perfectly. Her body just barely touches my pant leg while we walk and she stays directly beside me. What a delight! I'm used to the one hundred pounds of energy that Shade emits when I walk her. Douglas is better but he can be a handful also. Almondine is a delight. This little dog quickly became a favorite, and I her's. Eventually, when I would go to bed, she would hop up beside me and lie down against me. I didn't mind. Actually, I appreciated the extra warmth. It's cold in this room. This became a nightly ritual. I like to reach out and gently let my finger tips caress her forehead until I hear her take that deep, single inhallation and exhale that indicates she is almost asleep. Sweet little dog. Sweet! She is always at the fence when I come home and she bounds over to me for her ear scratching when I sit down at the computer. Then she lays at my feet. We had bonded very well. It is obvious that she looks to me for everything she has. I would take her with me in the truck often. She sits beside me and leans against my right side, her head against my arm. I would turn and look down at her only to meet her gaze. She always kept her eyes on me. It was obvious that she adored being with me. And I with her. In the evenings I enjoyed her sitting beside my chair allowing me to pet her broad head. She would half close her eyes and become enthralled by my attentions. Sweet, sweet little girl. She isn't what one would call beautiful or pretty. I look beyond that in dogs. She was in need. I came along. And we bonded very tightly. She is my friend and I hers. But when you're activities take you into dog rescue; there is a down side to the process. That downside is that eventually the dog that has been in your care will be adopted. The loving dog that has bonded so tightly to you, and who has trusted you in every way must move on. And so it was with Almondine. As usual I received the call at work that Almondine was adopted and would be leaving within hours. I knew this was going to happen from information imparted to me a couple days earlier. I spent special time with Almondine. When I hung the phone up at work I had to walk outside to wipe the tears from my eyes. I envisioned her as I have always known her and even imagined her fragrance. I could see her eyes plainly in my mind staring at me as if asking whats next dad? Almondine, Almondine sweet Almondine. We are deprived of a last farewell with each other. My heart is sad, my favorite sweet girl. But at the same time, happy for you. For now you have stepped into that part of your life that will offer you a chance at complete happiness forever. You will forget me soon, dear one; as it is the way with dogs. But I shall never, ever in a lifetime forget you precious girl.

JULIA

click photo to enlarge Snatched away from the certainty of death by agonizing starvation and freezing temperatures to

THIS

The face says it all

Julia is a senior dog and she is available for adoption. This sweet, loving, old hound would be a dedicated friend and companion to a caring person. Her demeanor is gentle and easy. And she is house trained. Older dogs make wonderful companions. They are not hyper active and are gentle and easy. Julia deserves peace, love and guidance in her remaining time. She has so very much to offer to a special someone. Please consider her. Until that special someone appears; she will be with, and cared for by me. It is my privilege.

DAY OF NON-ADVENTURE

click the photo's to enlarge The trees that line the shoreline of the lake create a shadowed world under their branches. A perceived motion caught with peripheral vision causes one to snap the head in that direction and scan the darkened brush and bushes for the outline of some animal. I watched closely as the golden form moved silently through and over the undergrowth at speed. Not a sound. He appeared running from my left; arching his body up and over a fallen log without a moments hesitation and passed thirty yards in front of me. He was silhouetted by the lake on his left and trees between us which prevented full view of him; only glances as he vaulted by. And still not a sound. He was at that moment a golden ribbon, bending over and around the natural obsticals that confronted him. He is gorgeous in the wild elements. My heart hurts to know he is lying on the floor day and night while I work just waiting for these few hours of bliss out here. I do what I can. But he is magnificent today. Shade, on the other hand, is like a freight train moving through the brush and down the trails. Where Douglas seems to make decisions about things that resemble thought processes; of course it isn't so. Shade seems to simply react to problems and crashes through the issues with, so far, ogreat success. Douglass choices are more logical. Is it a breed thing? I don't know. Goldens are smart. Black Labs are too. Between Shade and Douglas I believe the cards are stacked in Douglass favor. Shade is smart, but chooses to ignore commands at times and leaves an impression of "no one home upstairs." But how quickly she listens when a dog bone is presented as prize for obedience! Who can figure dogs? There are no perfect dogs. There are no perfect anything, for that matter. But these two compliment each other and are companions. They make each other happy and they make me happy. When it comes to energy there's nothing as fast as Lightning Sigh. Shes an old hound with bullet speed and energy enough to go around to ten wolf puppies. Well, I exaggerate a little bit. OK; a whole lot. Old Sigh is a rescue dog from years ago. She almost died of starvation. But care and good food brought her back. Now she is an overweight hound dog that is content laying about the yard in the sun. Sigh loves these hikes in the woods and will on occasion join Douglas and Shade for a swim in he lake. She is very old but keeps up with us fine. I will not take her in the heat of summer. She will be content to lay in the shade of the bushes that line the yard. Today we are hiking the East Coast Tellico Lake Trail that borders Tellico Lake on one end. It is a warm fifty degrees but the wind is picking up fast. Rain is supposed to blow in tonight and change to snow tomorrow at some point. I thought it a great time to get the guys out in the woods for exercise. I spent Thursday and Friday satisfying my own glut for adventure by taking the canoe up some unknown streams and investigating the old Alcoa Club House across Chillhowee Lake by canoe. Today was dedicated to the dogs. If one is going to have dogs in ones care then one must act responsible for their well being by assuring they get exercise and the opportunity to satisify their seeking desires. Yes seeking. Dogs are nomadic by nature and they seek things. Food, adventure, new surroundings, new smells as well as old and each walk they go on helps satisify that need. Short walk or long walk. All day or a few hours; dogs don't care. They are masters of the moment. They live for now and they don't care about time. But they do need the experience of diversity in their lives. I try. I am still fascinated by these silos out in the water of Tellico Lake. I have photo's of them on this blog elseware. But they stand alone out in the water as a reminder of what this lake covered up. A peaceful, quiet farm along the banks of the Little Tennessee River had been handed down through generations; now flooded in the name of progress and for the betterment of the majority. I find it interesting. I've got some really super adventures figured out for the motorcycle, gheenoe and the canoe. Three day camp outs using each of them. The weather is starting to mellow and the lake conditions will soon be much better for tent camping. The warmer weather will make all night motorcycling easy. All night driving is the only way to cover a lot of territory when one has a limited amount of time. So, stay tuned in. Summer's just around the corner.

THE ALCOA CLUB HOUSE ON CHILLHOWEE

click pictures to enlarge No, there aren't any picture's of country club's on this blog. However; I did hear of one that used to reside across Chillhowee Lake that was owned and operated by the Alcoa Company back in the eighties. For the past four years I have been stopping my boats at a little boat ramp on the upper end of Chillhowee Lake. There has been a chain across the ramp every time I was there. This ramp was located at the end of a strip of land that extended out into the lake. It is a very pretty place. Investigation has uncovered that that boat ramp was actually a ferry landing. I also noticed a concrete wall with a slot about twenty feet wide on the bank across the lake opposite this ferry landing. Just below that wall was the landing for the ferry on that side of the lake. Recently I put the pieces of this puzzle together. Back in the day; this was the Tennessee River before the dam was installed. Alcoa built an elaborate club house across the river where they would entertain wealthy business folks from all over. To the right of the club house was a private trout lake that Alcoa had built for the enjoyment of their guests. This was a first class operation. And an expensive one. Someone must have done the math at some point in the mid eighties because the club house was dynamited into oblivian leaving no trace. The trout lake is still there, and it's beautiful. The concrete wall was built to shore up the wall of the lake (embankment) and provide a spill way. Currently, the waters of Chillhowee flow up and through the wall, but just barely as you can see by the photos. It was a long paddle journey to get to the site, but I had time to veer off the lake and explore an unknown stream. A friend of mine knows the man who actually ran the lodge. The following are his own words written to me about the subject. I have omitted sentenses stating names: The lodge was named Scona Lodge. Pronounced “Secona.” It’s an Indian name meaning “across the river.” The lodge was built in 1933 and closed by Alcoa, in about 1987. It was torn down only about 5 years ago, the furniture, photos, trap shooting guns, etc, all sold at auction. The demolition was a below grade demolition, so that nothing remains. There was an old slate spring house on the property prior to the lodge’s construction; it was left and can be seen today. That swampy area you talk about, with the concrete structure with a gap in the middle big enough for a canoe, was a dam to hold back a trout pond for the guests to fish in. The gap must have let the current flow through. My friend, Harold, built a gate out of hanging chains which kept the trout inside. They could have pushed through or around the chains, but didn’t. The ferry landed below Calderwood Dam, and ran on cables across the lake. Above Calderwood, about “two city blocks above the dam” on the west side, was a dammed up creek called “first creek,” (being the first creek above the dam). That small dam was concrete over earth. It held back the creek, the water being used for a drinking water supply for the lodge and the dam, and a small village. The lodge was four rooms. There were four cottages in addition. Each room was named after a tree species, and was finished in the wood of that species. The walnut room had walnut walls, trim and floors of walnut. The water is crystal clear. This is water from a cold mountain stream. This is a peaceful, rather shallow stream that narrows more and more the further I paddled into the mountain. I went as far as I could go up stream and turned the ship around and got down to serious business. I headed for the main lake. The wind really picked up and started pushing the canoe to the left. It was a new experience to buck against the wind and associated waves. I rounded a bend in the lake and the wind was blocked by the mountain. See how calm the water is in the photo above compared to the picture above it. Eventually the familier little shack appeared with its associated ferry ramp I sharply turned the canoe toward the far bank of the lake and paddled hard toward the concrete wall I spoke of earlier. It was hard to hold the course toward the opening in the concrete. The wind was really difficult to deal with. I could have hit the opening but the wind would have put too much speed to the boat as it was hitting me from the rear driving the canoe forward at a speed I wasn't comfortable with. The lake for the country club lays directly behind that slot. I elected to beach the boat on the shoreline of the lake. The water was so rough; I pulled the canoe entirely out of the water. Above is another shot of the slot in the wall. It would have been fun to shoot through that slot. But if I missed; oh boy! If you look at the bottom of that opening, you'll see a concrete ledge running under the surface of the water. It's only a couple inches under water. I'm glad I beached the boat. The canoe would have hit that hard. The trout lake behind the notch in the concrete is beautiful. I walked along a path that must have guided feet around the club house grounds. This place must have been of fair size. I didn't have time to walk the whole thing. It was getting late and I had a two hour paddle ahead of me in wind. Incidently; there was absolutely no trace of the club house to be found. Amazing! It was time to go. I will return to this place and do a more thorough inspection when it is warmer. 40 degrees in this wind is not really comfortable. Off across the lake I go.