CHEOAH LAKE; I'M A BIT DISAPPOINTED

Click on the photos to enlarge I tossed the canoe on top the truck last night after work in preparation for an early start today. I was headed for Cheoah Lake. No dogs and no messing around. I had it in my head to paddle around the entire lake both shorelines. And I did. Ouch! I arrived at the access point that George and I found last week while on a motorcycle ride. The wind was blowing harder than I would have liked but, I watched a Bill Mason movie last night and I was feeling pretty confident I could handle anything that came up out on the lake. I wasn't going to worry about a little breeze. I shoved the canoe off the grassy bank as soon as I could see the water fairly well. It's a strange feeling in a canoe without sun and having the wind blowing the boat about. I think in the future I'll wait until I can see better. The wind was having its way with the canoe. I would have to focus and apply strength to the power strokes and use more emphasis on the correction strokes. As the sun climbed higher, my resolve to persevere increased. I decided to stay close to the left shoreline. That was a good decision because the water was smooth there out to about thirty feet. I just kept the boat in that flat, smooth water. The wind was at my back and at times would catch the tail end of the canoe and try to spin it if I left the boat wander left or right. It was an experience I had not been tested on before. I soon adapted and the canoe went straight down the edge of the lake. The lake resembled Calderwood in width. Cheoah's shoreline was rugged but, not as boulder strewn as Calderwood. There were some huge boulders present for sure! I set a steady pace with the paddle. You may notice by the pictures that the foliage has not taken on the color of Fall. I thought the leaves would be changed by now for certain but by the looks of things it will be another week to achieve full color. There were, however, areas of fairly bright leaves hear and there. At no point in my travels today did I pass any areas containing expansive areas of colored foliage. As the sun rose in the sky; so did the sounds on Route 129. Route 129 follows along the top of the embankment on the North side of Cheoah Lake. The motorcycles were starting to run over the route on the way to the Dragon ; that piece of Route 129 that has been transformed into a motorcycle crotch rocket mecca. The sounds of motorcycle mufflers were piercing the silence that I earlier enjoyed. The lake, in an instance, lost its magic. It seemed to be changed somehow into "just another lake." Motorcycle after motorcycle raced along on Route 129. The individual bikes soon became swarms of bikes. They were passing in twos and fives and even tens. The noise from their exhausts sounded like bee swarms. It was unending and impossible to paddle away from. I thought the water might pull away from the road further down the lake. It didn't happen. A constant, steady flow of motorcycles passed unending all day from that point on and I was forced to listen to each one as it motored by. I was getting hungry and decided to paddle to the other side of the lake and beach the canoe. Time for some good ol trail mix. I found a small cove and a spot where I could safely bump up against the shoreline and step out of the boat. Ouch! Stiff legs. I had been in the canoe for three straight hours and the legs didn't want to work properly. It felt good to stand on solid ground. But as I looked up the embankment I saw something I didn't like. Someone had taken it upon themselves to claim this little spot for their own. Most of the furniture was made on the spot. The junk, er, I mean the other furnishings were freighted in. Now all they had to do was boat on over and they had all the conveniences at hand. I view this as junk. Garbage! This is total disrespect for the wilderness. This debris that was dragged in here ruins the flavor of the place. It changes the taste from sweet nectar to sour milk. Its presence smacks of disrespect to any other person who might like to savor the wilderness experience and enjoy nature at its finest. Great Scott! It's litter plain and simple. It can't be justified. If my back didn't ache so much I would take each piece of trash and toss it into the lake. This is what people do to wild places. This is what I come out here to get away from. It makes me think of the camp sites the Forest Service built on Calderwood Lake. These conveniences attract people. People bring their junk and inadvertently leave much of it. They throw their Pepsi and Beer cans into the fire and leave them there for the next visitor to look at. If Calderwood Lake ever becomes a litter receptical; I'll break the canoe in half and leave Tennessee. With the beautiful sound of motorcycle mufflers ringing happily across the lake; I'll shove off for the return paddle back to the put in. The wind is really blowing now and I'm paddling into it. This is going to be a little like work. The photograph above shows the surface tossing about due to a strong wind. A little more wind and small white caps would appear. We don't want that to happen. I'm really putting my back into it. The correction strokes require a lot of power to maintain a true course. My strength, however, is not tested yet. I am lucky I guess. I will feel the results of the efforts later. And so with the sounds of wind and water lapping against the canoe, and of course, motorcycle mufflers every thirty seconds; I hold the canoe on a fairly steady course down the lake. I have to use modified "J" strokes and pry's off the gunnels mixed with sweep strokes left and right sides to keep going straight. I even tried the Canadian stroke in order to use a different set of muscles for awhile. That didn't go well at all. Eventually my cove appeared on the right and I cut across the lake toward it. It was necessary to point the canoe at a boulder fifty feet above the cove so that by the time I got to that shoreline through the wind; I would be aligned with the mouth of the cove. And it worked. I popped on into quiet water and beached the boat on the grass. I had to sit in the canoe a minute or two in order to find my legs. I extended first my right leg out and planted my foot on dry land. I couldn't stand as my back ached at the belt line. I had been sitting and paddling for seven hours accept for fifteen minutes on shore to inspect the junk and litter at the other end of the lake. Slowly I stood and withdrew the other leg. Success! Cheoah Lake is a gorgeous place. It is a shame that the most famous motorcycle road in the United States borders its shoreline. The noise from the road is continuous and never ending. Maybe the noise goes away at night. I didn't hear it when I arrived early in the morning. But, Cheoah is just another lake to me. Nothing special. It is elevated above the valley lakes in my mind but nowhere near the spectacular presence of Calderwood Lake; my favorite. Look below at what will be tested on the next outing. These stabilizers will allow me to keep the camera close at hand instead of locked in a dry box where I can't get to it. Until next time; be nice to a dog.......

WANDERING ON ABRAMS CREEK

click on photos to enlarge The rain has been relentless for two strait days and nights. Only at 3PM this afternoon did it cease. It was too late to drive to Calderwood so I loaded up the dogs and took them for a boat ride on Chilhowee Lake. They don't care what lake they're on; just that they are going someplace. I have to admit right here and now that after Calderwood lake; everything else is "just OK." We motored up Abrams Creek branch just to be sure we were out as far as we could get from any intrusions by humans. Today is only the second time Shade has been on the boat and she was apprehensive. She soon became acclimated. Look where her feet are. She is standing on the very forward most point of the boat. She has a lot to learn. Douglas learned early in his life about that mistake. I watched her very closely and was ready at all times to cut the motor if she went overboard. Yep; living dangerously. That is called inexperience. The leaves at this low altitude are only just changing. There are some great colors but they are located sparsely along the shoreline. Last year I reported finding a structure in the middle of Abrams Creek when the lake was drained. I reported it to the park service and they sent a ranger up to check it out. The below photo is all that is left of that structure now. But it is still there in the center of the creek waiting to snag a boat. We drove clear to Abrams Creek where it pours off the mountain and into the channel. It is beautiful. But I'm ruined now. I've been to Calderwood. We stopped the motor and just let the current push the Gheenoe downstream. Relaxing. Even the dogs were happy just floating along. We floated past a familier underwater rock. I paddled right over it in the canoe a couple months ago. We floated past a pretty little stream that was tumbling into the channel. I started the engine and did a turn around to beach the Gheenoe. It was time to let dogs be dogs and enjoy their freedom. I really enjoy this boat and I look forward to every chance to be on it. But, there is really something about a canoe that just plain grabs me. The canoe is as silent as a floating leaf and is totally unobtrusive. It's enjoyable to paddle silently along disturbing absolutely nothing. I take delight in being able to spot the otter before he sees me. I like to paddle gently. The paddle blade is inserted strait down into the water and pulled ever so gently and quietly toward me. Of course the twist of the wrist that accomplishes the J stroke still occurs at the end of the paddle stroke which keeps the canoe travelling in a strait line. When it's all put together the result is one quiet, fluid movement. The only sound is the water dripping off the paddle blade when it is removed from the water at the end of the paddle stroke. A canoe makes me feel a part of the wilderness instead of an alien presence in it. I glide along in total silence; disturbing nothing but the surface of the water and that is erased in seconds. The greatest pleasure is to camp on a primitive lake. The canoe becomes something more in a camping situation. It is the vehicle that gets me to that pristine camp spot and it also is the "only" way out. I have been called a romantic in the past and I guess I am. But when alone in a canoe I conjure up visions of a lone traveler traversing long lakes to reach some important destination. Funny how the mind works. I do have an intensely deep, bottomless respect for the wilderness, or whats left of it and I feel it's a privilege to be able to enjoy it. The wilderness is no place to bring the clutter from civilization. But where insensitive humans travel, so goes noise, litter and commotion. I guess the only down side to a canoe is that I can't take Douglas. He hasn't been trained to sit or lay in one place for long periods of time. He surely would tip a loaded canoe if he threw his weight to one side or the other. Yes, there are two dogs in the below picture. This is a peaceful place we've visited today and I hate to leave. The sun is dropping fast and it would be prudent to load the boat on the trailer while it's light out. Actually I have to watch Shade closely and she isn't easy to see in the dark. See you later. Oh; so much for the 10 second delay feature on the camera. ha

A DAY ON THE MOTORCYCLE

Click photos to enlarge Cheoah; an indian name meaning otter Yesterday was a great day to take a motorcycle ride. My good friend George accompanied me. I have been wondering how to gain access to Cheoah Dam for the last couple years. It lies directly above Calderwood. The close proximity of Cheoah would offer another lake for me to explore when at Calderwood. George and I left Smoky Mountain Harley Davidson late in the morning yesterday. Another close friend, James, was to go along but got caught up in the business of the day at work and could not make our departure time. George and I rode South on the Dragon Road, Route 129, which passes Cheoah Dam. There is absolutely no place to gain access to Cheoah's waters from that route. Amazing! But, that's a good thing. It keeps people off the water and maintains a pristine flavor to the area. Calderwood Lake, my favorite, is only two miles below Cheoah Dam and I decided to pull into the familier road to the boat ramps and campground to show George my favorite spot in the whole world. Our motorcycles are very different in construction. George is driving a Harley Low Rider and I a Suzuki VStrom. The Harley is a class act on the road and speaks with authority when underway. Harley's have an unmistakable exhaust note that the Japanese could never emulate. They can't today and I doubt ever will. I have missed my Harley Road King, affectionately named Big Red, ever since I sold her. It seems I never could afford to replace her with another. Hence, the big Suzuki. The VStrom is a great mountain bike, however. But that's another story. George and I just hung out here at Calderwood for a short period of time talking about which roads to try. I wanted to find access to Cheoah Dam and we would today. Construction on Cheoah Dam was started in 1916 and completed in 1919. The impoundment collects the water from approximately 1700 square miles of mountain drainage. It is not really a large impoundment when compared to the huge lakes below in the valley. The lake and dam are located in Graham County, North Carolina. It is a dam used to create power. The hydraulic capacity is 9,436 cubic feet per second. The releases can be spectacular to view. Today, however, a normal flow of water cascaded down the sides of the near vertical concrete wall. You may remember a movie staring Harrison Ford called "The Fugitive." Sequences of the movie were filmed here on Cheoah Dam. We left Calderwood in search of a road called Meadow Branch Road which was to be found just past Cheoah Dam on the left side of Route 129 South. We found it. Meadow Branch Road meandered back on the South side of Cheoah and penetrated deep into the forest. At no time could we see water. It was a guess as to where this little ribbon of asphalt would lead. Finally we came to a prominent division in the road. We could go left or right. Right was Rhimers Run Road and left was a continuation of Meadow Branch. We went left. Good choice. It took us to a beautiful, well shaded spot with a bare minimum boat ramp that offered easy access to the lake. There was a grassy shoreline beside the ramp which would mean I wouldn't have to slide the canoe or the Gheenoe over gravel or concrete when I beach or launch them. I hate doing that as scratches are the result. The little spur road that cuts off Meadow Run Road is a beautiful little narrow road too. It is very rustic back in there and sees very little use. Camping is available here and it's of the primitive type. No one comes back here it seems. I guess it's too dificult to drag large boats up over the mountain on Route 129, The Dragon, just to get to these primitive lakes. That's good! Solid concrete picnic table. I hated to leave this delightful place but, with no canoe, there was not much more we could do here. We left and headed for the Cherohala Skyway; a 55 mile length of road that leads from North Carolina and ends up East in Tellico Plains, Tennessee. The Cherohala has a maximum elevation of 5400 feet and it's pretty chilly up there. I noticed that the Fall leaves were falling off the trees at the 4000 foot elevation and above. Winter comes early that high. But, the leaves are only just changing at lower elevations. I can't wait to get to Calderwood and on her waters next week. The leaves will be fully turned and spectacular. Until next time; please be kind to a dog.