MERRY CHRISTMAS

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Another year is almost over.  They seem to pass by faster the older I get.  2011 has been a year of great occurrences for me;  some good and some bad.  The best thing that happened to me is the good fortune to be rehired into The Tennessee Wildlife Resource's Agency. (TWRA)  It's been a long wait for the opportunity to once again serve this outstanding organization, with no guarantee of success.  My last employment with them was eight years ago.  I was forced to resign due to financial issues back home.  I was introduced, then, to a wonderful new way of life that I adored, and to a golden friend that was soon to capture my heart and soul.

It seems like such a long, long time ago when I roved the big lakes west of here in a fast TWRA boat with a golden colored puppy who soon became loved by all the fishermen on the lakes.

So much has changed since then.  I am older, and feeling it.  The golden dog, and my best friend in this life is gone.  My heart is, and will forever be, in two pieces over him.  A great new boat has been given to me by the agency and once again I am on the water roving the East Tennessee lakes for TWRA.

Douglas taught me about the innocence of dogs, and about the dedication they offer to those who extend a kind hand to them.  I learned so very much about his kind from him.  He stood tall on the bow of the state boat in those days and fishermen knew it was me coming over to check their creel when they saw the golden dog on point.

I miss him every day of my life and constantly think about him in all that I do.  I'll never, ever forget that sweet golden dog that was my best friend.  I've moved on from the tragedy that took him from me, I think but, I haven't moved on from him, and I doubt I ever will, or can.  No other one can ever take his place.  I wouldn't put any dog into the impossible situation of trying.  However, time stops for nothing or anyone and we all must move on.

He represented all that is innocent in life.

He was a dynamic presence in the wild.

He was my best friend!

 Yep;  it's been a heck of a year alright!  I purchased a house on about four acres when I moved over here to Cherokee Lake.  I never wanted a house but, one has to live somewhere.  The area is not to my liking but, one can't have everything.  Where I used to take the dogs for a ten minute ride to the mountains or lake;  I now travel back west of here for eighty miles to visit those places.  The area here is not wild and offers no place where the dogs and I can hike and discover the out of the ordinary places.  I'm beginning to understand why people who live in residential neighborhoods can't wait to cut their grass.  It's because they are bored.  There isn't anything else to do accept go out to dinner, movies and watch TV.  There isn't even a hiking trail around here that is a "real" trail.  Panther Creek has a trail but, it's one of those Sunday afternoon trails with signs dictating where one can go and can not;  put the leash on the dog at all times; park here and not there;  don't pick the flowers and don't get off the trail.  The trail signs even include the Mexican language below the American language.  I guess one could call it a city trail. 

I'm taking Shade and Falcor to Slick Rock Creek for a Monday/Tuesday camp out next week.  It's been a long time since I've camped there, for a number of reasons.  It's time I get back there.  Shade always loved it there and Falcor needs to see what the real wild places are like.  I can't imagine camping there without Douglas.   This is the first Christmas without him.  It seems to be such a special time all of a sudden due to his absence.  I hadn't thought much about it before but, the thoughts of him are washing over my mind now that Christmas is here.  I will be carrying Douglas along to Slick Rock Creek.

 2011 has seen the coming of an additional little friend by the name of Falcor.  Google "Never Ending Story."  He is quickly winning the hearts of all the fishermen he comes in contact with on the lakes.

 

He makes a pretty little hood ornament on the front of the state boat.

A fisherman told me he was pretty enough to be born a Harp Seal.  I guess that's a compliment.  But, Harp Seals lead a precarious life.

So, that's about it for now.  I've got the camp out coming up on Monday at Slick Rock Creek so, keep watch for that one.  It should be a nice entry here.  January first will find Falcor and me on a new lake, Douglas Lake.  You can follow us along as we learn this new lake.  I call it the "Mud Hole."  You'll see why.  That's about it for this entry.  I just wanted to say Merry Christmas to all of you and thank you for looking in.

And so;   from Shade, Happy, Falcor, Chestnut, Homer and old Sigh;

MERRY CHRISTMAS

CHESTNUT

 

SIGH

SHADE

FALCOR

HAPPY

THESE THREE WERE MAGNIFICENT TOGETHER.  WHAT GRAND TIMES!

HOMER

MISS YA BOY.....

SCONA LODGE UPDATE

We stopped at an island today after running the boat for five solid hours.  Falcor needed to stretch his legs.  He made it obvious that he is still a puppy.  What a character!

It's 5 PM now and the rain is pouring down.  It sounds great pounding on the roof.  I made a pot of fresh coffee and went out on the porch with the kids to rock in the really neat rocking chair that my friend Tom bought me.  It's moments like this that create memories that last forever.  The only thing better would be listening to it rain on the tent.

Nothing outstanding happened today on the lake.  It was business as usual.  Of course;  business as usual for me might be viewed as a sort of adventure by some.  Rain or shine;  the team of four of us assigned to Reservoir Fisheries are expected to perform required tasks on our designated lakes, and we do so happily and to the best of our abilities no matter what the weather.  I have the best job in the world!


I'm sitting here now pondering how I'm going to write the final Scona Lodge entry.  I still have to interview a gentleman who worked at Scona Lodge in it's later years of existence.  I have been in constant contact with a lady who spent her early teenage years at Scona.  She lives in California state and found my Scona Lodge blog entries accidentally with an Internet search.  Her name is Anne.  I asked her to write down her teenage memories of her years at Scona Lodge, in no particular order.  What I've been receiving has been a wonderful collection of writings describing a little girl's life in a fairy tale castle at the base of a magic mountain across a beautiful river.  Her style of writing is descriptive and allows the reader to achieve a mental vision of a young teen girl's impish ways, as well as presenting vivid mental images of  beautiful Scona Lodge.    It's been a treat to read about her youth and times spent at Scona, the magical place destined to be destroyed.

I will present her tales of memories here on the blog along with Scona Lodge pictures, with her permission.  Scona Lodge is more than just a place.  It was a fabulous retreat hidden away in the rugged mountains where it's only access was a special ferry boat that was built for the purpose of shuttling guests to and from the lodge.  It's clients were the very rich;  politicians, industrial magnates and their wealthiest friends and clients, dignitaries from foreign countries and a few visitors of dubious character.  Scona had it all.  Maids and butlers and the finest golf course imaginable designed by a most famous architect who created masterpiece golf courses all over Europe.  A fine skeet and trap range and a stable of trap guns made in Belgian, all for the use of the guests.  Fine patios with hand laid stone walls, corners and beautiful tile flooring graced the property of Scona Lodge.  Beautiful foot bridges spanned the little creeks that ran across the grounds.  Even the creek banks were lined with hand fitted stone.   The staircase in the lodge itself was created from Black Walnut.  It was a fabulous place; the centerpiece for a fiction story.  It was indeed a fairy tale in itself.  But above all Scona Lodge created memories for all those who worked there.  They dedicated their lives to it as if Scona was a living, breathing entity.  One can only imagine how they felt when the final chapter of their fairy tale came to an end and the Scona Lodge book was closed and the book burned to ashes.

I am taking my time with the final Scona Lodge entry.  It is an important reflection in history.  I want readers to actually see Scona through the eyes of the little girl who spent her teens living there with her father and mother.   If I do it right;  the reader will have a glance at a marvelous place that very few ever knew existed.  Go ahead; try to find it on the Internet.  You'll see what I mean.   Please be patient.  It will be interesting reading.

So, there he is running and playing on the slippery rocks at the edge of the water.

Over sized puppy feet carry him along the shoreline and from rock to rock.  He hasn't a care in the world.

He doesn't realize it but, there's a five foot drop off just to the left of the flat underwater rock he is standing on.

Oops!  In he goes.  This is his first real swim.  He didn't want it to be but, puppies will be puppies.  He's looking good out there though.

"I hope no one saw that.  Where's dad?"

The amazing thing is that he came out of the water with the stick he was trying to get.  What a rascal!

"And son;  dad will always be there watching over you."

I had a couple more short movie clips of Falcor showing off but, the science of satellite internet won't allow me to upload them.  I just wanted to post this entry to let everyone know I'm still alive.  The rain, cold and mostly my location has kept me out of the adventure business lately.  I will, however, take the Gheenoe up the Nolichucky River as far as I can this week. 

GOODBY ROCK QUARRY; HELLO MUD HOLE

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Boaters friend

I've never been on a lake that I felt good about leaving;  until now.  My duties on the Rock Quarry, Cherokee Lake, will end for the year on December 31st and my new lake assignment is Douglas Lake, The Mud Hole.   I am not in the least sorrowed by the move from the quarry.  However, The Mud Hole isn't exactly a beautiful change.  Douglas Lake is also a flood control lake and is drawn down to levels dangerous to boating also.  Unlike Cherokee Lake, and it's rock bottom and mountain tops that project through the surface;  Douglas is known for it's mud bottom that rolls along under the water much like a farmer's meadow.  The mud hilltops wait patiently just under the surface to snag the first pilgrim boater that blasts along.  Douglas Lake, Mud Hole, is just another work lake.

Douglas Lake is fed by the French Broad,  Nolichucky, and Pigeon Rivers,   Out of the three; the Nolichucky holds the most interest to me.  It is a very long river with fast water and known for it's river rafting and other sports.  It may actually even have some quiet stretches of water suitable for sensible canoeing.  I don't know at this point.

Whack one of these and it's straight to the bottom

I'll be glad not to have to deal with rocks and boulders hidden a foot under the surface.  That sort of boating takes the fun out of it.

Wonder why TVA never quarried rock out of this lake.  There's a fortune to be made.

I'll not return to this lake until it's filled with water which will be about April.  It will assume the beauty of a natural lake but, it will be wearing a costume to hide the reality of what it is;  a flood control lake.  The water will again be slowly drawn down almost as soon as it is filled.

I still don't see the need to draw this lake down as far as they do.  It would take an epic Noah's Arc event to fill it;  and then it wouldn't matter anyhow.  Every dam in the string would overflow.  For something that bad to happen;  the entire Eastern United States would have to be under water.  I think it's drawn down due to liability issues and I'd bet the government is that issue.  Oh well, I'm off to the mud hole for new adventures.  At least the Smoky Mountains can be viewed from Douglas Lake.  It's window dressing but it's something.

I'll pull the boat out of here on the last day and I'll drive away and won't look back.  My thoughts that day will be on when I can get back up to Calderwood Lake for a camp out.

There wasn't a fishing boat in sight on this side of the bay.  I noticed Gulls by the hundreds flocking over the water, diving in and catching minnows.  It appeared to be a feeding frenzy.  You can bet that Striped Bass are directly under them chasing Shad which in turn disturbed the minnows and sent them scurrying in all directions.  The ones that swam toward the surface would meet the Gulls and their hungry mouths.

They would just float about waiting until the minnows appeared below them.

Their wing beats were thunderous as they took flight in unison.

They would fly above and close to the surface as if they knew the exact time that the minnow lunches would be served.  None dove into the water at this point.

All of a sudden, in unison, they dove into the water to grab their meals.  Many would surface and sit on top the water while they swallowed their meals.  Some would not take flight but would plunge their heads under water to grab passing fish, forgoing the effort of flight.

I am amazed that they don't fly into each other. 

Gulls are graceful birds when they are gliding about enjoying the wind.  They can really turn on the speed when they need to.

Bonaparte's Gull

The bird below is really turning on the power.  His wings are extended so far forward to grab the air that he's covered up his head.

The Gulls appear to be diving on the neighborhood.

Alfred Hitchcock could have used these scenes in his movie "The Birds."

I spun the boat around to cross the bay and follow the opposite shore back when I saw an old friend.

Definitely enlarge this shot.  This is the Common Loon.  They are the most challenging bird I have ever come  upon to photograph.  They are professionals at keeping themselves just out of photography range.  The above shot is probably the best picture I have ever taken of a Loon.  I'm on the water a lot and I have tried often to get good pictures of these birds but have failed.  They dive and swim under water for up to three hundred feet and surface in the most unexpected places.  I've seen them dive and disappear.  Loons normally migrate in the Winter but some stay here on these lakes.  The Loon above is sporting his Winter's plumage.  An interesting thing about Loons that many folks don't know is that their legs are placed very far back on their bodies making walking on land almost impossible.  Very large and old Loons even have trouble getting airborne from the water at times.  It's an interesting bird.

We caught up with two fishing boats and got to see three really nice Striped Bass the weighed about 20 pounds each.  Falcor was continually coming up to me and looking at my face.  Yep;  he had to go.  We would beach on an island that I knew was safe.  My legs needed some unwinding any way.

Nope;  it's not a Gull.  Guess again.

Falcor