CALDERWOOD - DISAPPOINTED AGAIN

I know I said the title to this blog entry would be "Calderwood".  Today was a real disappointment but at least I was there.  The picture below proves it:

I set the speedometer of the old Ford right on 65 miles per hour and got in the extreme right lane.  Little toy, plastic cars and pickup trucks flashed by on my left, cutting in and out of each other's path on their mad dash to - wherever.  I nursed the enormous travel mug full of coffee between my knees just below the steering wheel.  Weigels refills are .98 and it isn't worth me boiling the water in the morning at that price.  A guy in his wanna-be, look like a BMW car Nissan turned his face toward me as he passed by and gave me a scowling look as if I caused him some sort of delay or something.  Heck - I'm not even in the same lane as him.  There's three lanes on this interstate so he has plenty of lanes to get mad in.   He plunged ahead on my left  up to the tail end of a tractor trailer and became trapped there when another toy car pulled up beside him and slowly accelerated on by him, upsetting Mr. Scowl even further.  What a way to start the day!  I tried to ignore it all but it's impossible to do if ya want to live.

I pulled into the first boat ramp on Route 129 which is on the tail end of Tellico Lake.  I needed a break.  I noticed the current was very fast indicating that Chilhowee Dam was dumping a lot of water into Tellico Lake.  No way could a canoe paddle across that current.  It was ripping along at a tremendous pace.   I had hoped Calderwood Lake would be more serene.  Back onto Route 129 North I went and ambled along at 50 miles per hour.  The famous stretch of curvy road known as the Dragon was about six miles ahead and I wasn't looking forward to fooling with that.  It's the only route that leads to Calderwood Dam.  My heart jumped out of my chest when four crotch rockets approached from behind and passed on my left.  I never saw them coming.  All four were ten feet apart from each other and they all had loud exhausts that suddenly were there beside me for the length of a heartbeat and they were gone ahead of me.  Is it that time of the year already?  Crotch rockets and tourists pretending they are race drivers are the norm on this road throughout the Summer.  I've learned to detest this route.

The road that leads to the Calderwood powerhouse down at the dam came into view the right.  That's where the old original town named Alcoa, later changed to Calderwood, used to exist.  Scona Lodge lays directly across the lake from where I was driving.  I almost wished I had the Gheenoe instead of the canoe.  It seemed I was passing by an old friend's house and purposely not stopping in.  The road had a bend in it about every two car lengths and would so for the next twelve miles when it would wind down the other side of the mountain to Cheoah Dam on the left side and the little turn off that would go to the boat ramp at Calderwood Lake on the right.   A "Killboys Photography" truck was parked directly on a tight road corner and the photographer was sitting in a lawn chair placed under a tall umbrella, camera in hand waiting for the next crotch rocket to appear and flash around the tight turn.  These photographers upload these photos of motorcyclists to their on-line sites where the bike riders can view themselves in action.  They then can purchase the photos of themselves tempting fate as they negotiate the ten mile per hour corner at 60 plus miles per hour.  There are now four different photography companies represented on the Dragon strategically placed to capture the daring-do's of the highly skilled, wonderfully capable, tried and tested wanna-be racers who tempt the hand of fate on this killer road.  The photographers may or may not know it but, their presence on those corners compels most crotch rocket drivers to twist the throttle harder in order to present their bikes to the cameras in the steepest lean angle possible to attain their Cary Grant moment in time.  Gotta remember that crotch rocket riders are kids and kids like to impress their buddies who are kids.  I guess that's why there is an ambulance parked at the end of the Dragon at the little store there all day every Saturday and Sunday.  The damn road is a killer!

The steering wheel on the old truck was in continual motion as I turned it left and right and back again repeating the motions, it seemed, without thought.  A bright green crotch rocket came around the bend toward me at blinding speed into the corner I was negotiating and flashed by like lightning.  He had to be moving at or near 80 miles per hour on that corner which is posted at 30 miles per hour.  Two more bikes approached from my rear, their headlights diving downward with the application of their front brakes as they did a panic brake to slow down for my old truck.  They followed about a yard off my bumper.  I wanted to pull over at the next tiny "pull off" to let them bye but they were too close for me to slow down fast enough to get out of their way.  The hell with em!  They can just sit behind me and stew over it.  I'm sick of this stupidity!  A short straight piece of road appeared and one of the crotch rockets zipped on past but the other couldn't make it and was forced to remain behind me.  He flicked his throttle occasionally to let me know he was pissed that I wouldn't let him by.  Hell - I couldn't pull off the road.  He's too close to me and besides - there wasn't anywhere to pull off.  This road is nothing more than a motorcycle race track.  Tiny sports car drivers offend the sanity of lesser beings also.  They whip around the corners testing the stickativity of their expensive, foreign tires as they thread their way through the curves.  Tiny digital movie cameras are mounted on the hoods and trunks of most of the cars to capture the drivers prowess as a capable, highly technical race driver.  I've even seen those cameras mounted on motorcycle helmets.  I trundled through the curves at a blinding 25 to 30 mile per hour speed, cursing continuously and wishing I weren't here.

I finally descended down the other side of the mountain and came upon the familiar turn off that would allow me to start a peaceful day at Calderwood Lake.  I pulled the truck close to the edge of the lake and got out for a look-see.  The first thing I noticed was the wind.  A cold wind was gusting at a brisk pace and it was cold.  A glance at the water indicated that Cheoah Dam was releasing water at full capacity.  The current was fast.  This was just great!  It took me two and a half hours to drive here to find it unacceptable to paddle a canoe this water.  I pulled on an insulated shirt and took a walk down to the water for a closer look.  The current from Cheoah dam was charging downstream toward Calderwood Dam and the wind was actually causing a conflicting current that appeared to flow upstream toward and into the original current.  Of course the wind driven current was a surface only flow in the opposite direction but it was quite formidable.  This situation wasn't going to correct itself anytime soon.  I reluctantly got in the truck and headed back.  If Shade would have been along I might have tried a hike on the mountain.  Hiking is no good without her though.  It was two and a half hours back home and I went as fast as I could.  Five hours of driving and 50 bucks wasted.  If I'd have had a for sale sign I would have parked the canoe and trailer and hooked that sign on the whole rig and sold it.  Might do it anyway.  I sure can't keep driving all these miles for a canoe ride.  Just can't.  The old truck is hanging in there but who knows for how much longer?  All these miles aren't helping.  All I have over here where I live is a rock quarry filled with water and no wildlife and a mud hole with no wildlife.  Both lakes are unfit for canoeing, especially in the Summer when the pleasure boats arrive.   In the Winter all associated creeks and streams dry up due to the draining of the two huge dams.  It's a shame what the state has done to it's natural rivers in the name of electric power.  It is what it is I guess.  

So, that's my story for the day.  I will say one thing - I've never put as many miles on vehicles in my life as I do now.   I'm back on good ole Cherokee Lake in the morning so, we'll see what that brings.  I will be on Douglas Lake, hopefully, in the afternoon to do an eagle count that I've been trying to accomplish for a month now.  Don't worry - I'll get to Calderwood---------someday.

PEACE AND QUIET

all photos taken with Canon 70-300mm tele

 I stood on the porch at 4 AM with a coffee staring at the sky while experiencing an overpowering urge to get out of Dodge for the day.  I decided to head for the old state park in Vonore with the dogs.  But first I had to take the jon boat up to the work center at Buffalo Springs and leave it.  Shade accompanied me as I wanted to do a little walking in an area of the property I haven't been for awhile and she could get some exercise.

The only problem with this section of the wildlife area is there is no streams.  It wasn't a big deal as I didn't plan to be here more than an hour.  There is a stream that crosses under the road not far and it is a gated area.  She could go for a swim there.

This is a beautiful place but very small.  It does offer a small "get away from it all" place though.

Shade was all slick and clean when she came out of the water and I rushed her to the truck before she rolled in the dirt.  She loves to roll over on her back and wriggle around in dirt when she's wet.  I don't really care as long as I can get her back into the water for a final rinse.  Usually a thrown stick to the stream will do.  She can't resist a stick in the water.  We went home where I changed lenses on the camera and loaded up a jug of water for the girls.  All I had to do was open the truck door and they piled in.  We were off.  They were excited to say the least.  It's been a long time since they have been in the woods.  It's a shame there isn't even one place near our home where a dog, or even me, can get into the forest without encroaching on someone's private property.

It's a long drive back to this place but it's worth it.  I don't know what I'd do if this beautiful place were to disappear.  I used to come here daily with the dogs when I lived over here.  Now, I can barely afford to get here once or twice a month.  The place is huge and for the most part - empty of people.

The dogs were having the time of their lives running full out while chasing each other through the meadows.  I wanted them to wear themselves out totally.  I don't think I've been anywhere that is greener than here.  It's always been something I've noticed about this meadow and forest.  The place is a stunner!

The girls have been hyperactive for about thirty five minutes and I wanted to get them to water.  That's not hard and I found that I didn't have to lead them.  They remembered the way to the lake.

They automatically headed for the road that goes into the lake.  There is one spot where a person can look over a clearing and see the lake through the trees.  Of course, Chestnut Hound had to inspect the clearing.  Great view though!

I could hear deer moving through the brush as we walked down the old road.  They weren't in a rush but moved cautiously.  Twice I saw patches of brown moving through the trees as they walked along as silently as they could.  That's neat.

 "Chestnut Hound - come on girl. Hurry, hurry!"

They were in the water when I caught up to them.

"Oh Happy.  Douglas taught you well.  You swim as good as any water dog out there.  Good Girl!"

I let them hang out in the lake for about a half hour and then moved up toward the old plantation house foundation that I call the ruins.

The dogs knew right where to go.  They remembered.  Dogs are unique in reference to memory and thought.  Dogs live for the moment and do not dwell on or think about where they are or what they are going to do.  They just act on the moment.  They don't have rational consciousness requiring thought process.  In a way they see - they react and they do.  That doesn't mean they don't remember because they do, and they remember very well.  These dogs remember where everything is on this property.  Chestnut obviously doesn't due to her newness to the place but, she knows where the lake is and the ruins.  She will run down the road to nowhere to the lake for water and come back.  Imagine how pure and simple their minds work.  They are still designed to work primarily in survival mode after all these eons.  Their brains aren't cluttered up with nonessential activity, except for what we pound into them in the form of training.    

These three dogs are tightly bonded to me and they can read my actions thoroughly.  For instance - if I walk with urgency and maintain a fast pace, they stay closer to me and do not wander far from our course of direction.  If I walk slowly, as I am today, they will range farther away and will move ahead and to the sides smelling everything in their path.  Many times they will double back and re-smell something that caught their nose on the first pass.  They will often move out of my line of vision but will continually drift back to check on my location.  As I said - we are all bonded together.  They're wonderful to be with and very interesting to watch.

The old foundation of the Carson home was just ahead.  I know the history of this place and it is elsewhere on this blog.  It, like Scona Lodge, took a bit of investigation to figure out.  History is fun and interesting.  I find it odd though, that many historical places are not documented in writing and even more odd is that the local people don't seem to know anything about some of these historical treasures.  I guess they just don't care about them.  If that's so - it's a shame.

Above is the old tree that Douglas used to stick his head into with every visit.  I can't come here and not think of him.  He's always there.  I sometimes wonder if I'm keeping him from finding total peace by keeping his ashes in a box close to me.  He used to climb up a hill behind a camp spot we always went to on Calderwood Lake and would lay on a little grassy point of ground that sort of hung out over the hillside.  He would watch me from there. I can still see him with his paws out in front of him facing the lake and just taking in everything.  I thought about taking his box of ashes and burying it there on that spot but then he'd be far away from me.  Crazy thoughts, I know.  Human thoughts.  At one time he was my whole life.  It's hard to let go.

The old foundation is looking shabby.  How long can it last uncared for?  I bumped into this place almost ten years ago now.  The bricks were even and neat - not disheveled as now.  One would think an effort would be made to preserve this place.  This was an early settlement at one time.  It started as a log cabin and progressed to be a marvelous mansion and the property was termed a plantation.  It changed military hands several times during the Civil War and skirmishes were fought here and a confederate soldier died on the front porch and was buried in the yard.  As each brick falls from the rows, a piece of history is lost.  Someday they all will lay in disarray on the grass and all who do know the story will be gone and the bricks will represent no more than just so much litter on the ground.  Weeds a brush will bury the traces forever and no one will care.  Much of the same happened to Scona Lodge.  Wonder why people assign such minimal importance to history.  Is no one curious about the past?  They used to be curious.  The current times are fast moving I guess - too fast to worry about what used to be.  A shame!

I did post a picture on this blog a long time ago of this house when it was together and vital.  It would take a lot of searching but I bet I could turn it up.  Oh well--
Shade - look at you.

The girls were slowing down and we had better get out of here.  It's late.  They will certainly be worn out by the time we get to the truck.  That's a good thing.

"Wonder if he got a biscuit in his pocket."

The old road below leads back to the truck.  They are beat!  It's been a great day and I'm glad I brought them over here.  I also discovered that this is going to be a tick kind of year.  I've picked two off my wrists while walking today and another two ticks were picked off the back of my neck while I'm writing this.   I'll have to run a flea comb through the hair on all the dogs before we sleep tonight.  

They are dragging.  That's the way it should be every night.  I have one more day off and tomorrow is to be really gorgeous.  I'll have to check the wind in the morning.  Tomorrow night's post will be named CALDERWOOD.