10:00 pm. Rebel Rivers Eve.

Should be packing, but had to sit down, wash a glass, and watch the storm come.

There is less talk of "northers" these days. People sit softly at ten fifteen in the evening and watch while a bacon vender points to highs and lows and fronts on a chart, and then they go to the wall to twirl their thermostats, and perhaps the windows rattle a little in the night, but that's about all. . . In the country, though, a front is a fact still. There it's a blue line along the horizon, and a waiting, sweaty hush, and a hit like a moving wall, and all of life scurrying for the southern lee of things. There it's a battening down, an opening of hydrant valves, a checking of young and valuable stock, a walking across the swept lots with a flashlight, a leaning against the hard-shoving cold, a shuddering and creaking of old, tall, frame houses. There it's a norther, and there someone always, inevitably, rightly, cracks the old one about there being nothing between West Texas and the Pole except a bob-wire fence.

Goodbye to a River, p. 99

~

Times A-Changing

We don't need to be at the airport until 2:20 Friday instead of 1:20. Probably shouldn't have even said anything to improve the chances of Tim being on time.

So what that means is if you are riding out with the group, we will leave from Barton Ave. no later than 2:00. Plan accordingly. If you are meeting us at the farm that afternoon, copy and print the directions posted here on April 1. You should probably do that even if you think you're riding out with someone...

Water level is officially a problem. It is right at 5-feet now which is floatable but on the high side. Unfortunately it rained today and there is more rain coming. So be like Mike. Don't forget to pack your Youth Size Extra-small poncho and thin white t-shirt.






With the rivers rising, there is a real possibility we will also be changing our destination plans and do some flatwater canoeing on this trip. Nothing wrong with that. One of the prettiest lakes in Tennessee, Dale Hollow, is just north of Livingston.

It has primitive campsites that can only be reached by water. We are not giving up on the Sequatchie, but we've reserved the primitive site called "Jackson Creek Island" (#30 on the map) just in case.



Dale Hollow is the lake where the world record smallmouth bass was caught. You may want to think hard about a fishing license this year. Dale Hollow may also have Candirus. How else can you explain the last paragraph in: "WARNING: Primitive Camping not for Everyone"? Good thing Josh has been working on some new techniques in the off-season.

If some of you object and say we are not the Rebel Lakes Canoe Club, remember that Dale Hollow Lake isn't really a lake, it's a reservoir, which means it's really a river. Or used to be. In fact, it was once two rivers (the Wolf and the Obey).

Goodbye to a River, pages 8-9

While all the rivers may continue to flow to the sea, those who represent us in such matters will at least slow down the process by transforming them from rivers into bead strings of placid reservoirs behind concrete dams . . .

Bitterness? No, ma'am . . . In this region, scorched to begin with, alternating between floods and droughts, its absorbent cities quarupling their censuses every few years, electrical power and flood control and moisture conservation and water skiing are praiseworthy projects. More than that, they are essential. We river-minded ones can't say much against them - nor, probably, should we want to. Nor, mostly, do we . . .

But if you are built like me, neither the certainty of change, nor the need for it, nor any wry philosophy will keep you from feeling a certain enrgaged awe when you hear that a river that you've known always, and that all men of that place have known always back into the red dawn of men, will shortly not exist. When someone official dreams up a dam, it generally goes in. Dams are ipso facto good all by themselves, like mothers and flags. Maybe you save a Dinosaur Monument from time to time, but in-between such salvations you lose ten Brazoses. . .

It was not my fight. I knew, though, that it might be years again before I got back with time enough on my hands to make the trip, and what I wanted to do was to wrap it up, the river, before what I had known ended up down yonder under all the Criss-Crafts and the tinkle of portable radios.

Trip Week

Preparation has begun in earnest!

If the river level is going to be high, we should try to pack a little better. Better doesn't necessarily mean lighter, sometimes it just means putting the beer and steaks in the canoes of our most experienced paddlers. The real problem is not the weight anyway - it's the sheer volume of crap. The unnecessary bulk that piles up over the gunwales makes you top heavy which is not good when the river is running high and pushy. Even with a dutch oven or two in the floorboards, you can get in trouble going through sweepers in high water if you have a tower of gear in the middle of the canoe that gets caught in branches. So without issuing any broad orders or anything, try to be conscious of the amount of stuff you bring.

Biggest space suckers:

1. Guitar cases

2. Excessive beer supply, even by our standards

3. Inefficient (i.e. zero) tent planning

4. Deluxe camp chairs. Since when did we become so women-tended that we're too good to sit on a beer cooler? Which we already have too many of anyway (see #2).

5. Utensils

~

WEATHER UPDATE

The weather forecast for the middle of this week is depressing, even though the weekend itself looks nice. Not sure how much new water the river can stand. We probably won't make an official decision until Saturday morning. We will not paddle the Sequatchie if it's dangerously high, but we will be in canoes one way or another. So there is no "cancellation policy" and no rain date. We have a Plan B, we just don't know exactly what it is yet...

The answer to your question is: the river is going down almost as fast as it went up.



At this rate, we will be fine. Normal for this time of year is between three and five feet and we could tolerate higher. But if it keeps on raining, the levee's going to break. And if the levee breaks, we'll have no place to stay.

A few random updates on things that have come up while getting ready for the trip...

Smoke on the Water

First, we have another no-cost Club acquisition. This gift has been accepted by the RRCC because it meets all of our equipment criteria (large, metal, awkward to carry). And it's such a classic old-school smoker.

The instructions that came with it have the obligatory "favorite recipes" section with corny names from Old Smokey Marketing like "Have-To-Have Hamburgers" and "Show Stopping Steaks." The second half of the instructions is the spanish translation of the first half and the Hot Dog recipe reads: "Perros Caliente Hot Diggity!" (exclamation in original). That is good stuff! So even though it may look like we're eating gourmet brats and sausage Friday night in Livingston, that's not what we'll be calling them.




Satellite

You should really check out the aerial views of this river. There's a link on the right to the Acme Mapper (under "Aerials and Topos") because on ACME you can switch back and forth between the maps, satellite photos and the official USGS topos. But you can use Google Earth too. Either way, type in "Condra, Tennessee" and scroll about three farmers' fields to the southeast.

Normally, the best satellite pictures available on the internet are urban areas like San Francisco and Washington, D.C. For some reason, NASA or whoever must have decided our campsite is some international place of interest because the pictures are incredibly clear. Look at the areas upstream of Hwy. 127 and downstream of the take-out - they're such poor quality you can't zoom in at all. But on our section of the river you can see the pecker on a Pileated.

Some fun things to look for:

- The grass drug-runner airstrip directly across the river from our campsite.

- The Sequatchie was high and muddy when the images were taken. All of the riffles are washed out and you can see the water up to its banks.

- Note that even though the river is flooded, our campsite is high and dry (this may become important).

- The oxbow lake right by our field is full and has reconnected with the river. At normal water levels neither is true. In these pictures you can see the trees that have grown up in the oxbow as it was cut off from the main channel and filled in.

The Saw

The update on the saw is nothing but good news and sweet serendipity. Our saw is the feel-good story of 2008.

Think about this. Crosscut saws come in every imaginable size and style. The saw that Roy dug out of his garage is a "5-1/2 foot Western-style two-man crosscut" - EXACTLY the same as the one we were going to buy from Jim's Crosscut Saws in Oregon. Just check our old post from last month if you don't believe it. (Western-style means toothed all the way to the ends).

And it could have been a mere M-tooth saw or, worse, "Plain tooth". But it's a Champion.




Roy had a perfect opportunity to throw it away when he moved last year, and almost did, but he kept it without really knowing why. This is a Saw of Destiny.

More proof: when we asked around about getting it sharpened, everyone said there's only one person in Tennessee who can do it - Tom Housewright in Knoxville. As it happens, we were going to Knoxville the very next day to see a client. When we arrived, the man's shop was in a barn about three blocks from the client's business. And Housewright was coming to Nashville the following week so it has already been hand-delivered to us all shiny and sharp. Total cost: $50.

You also need to know that Roy is an avid golfer and almost backed out of the spring trip because the Masters is the same weekend. Mr. Housewright, our two-man crosscut saw sharpener, is the official scorer on the 7th hole of the Masters. This is true.

7th Hole - Augusta National Golf Club

Tom Housewright's shop is not in an ordinary barn. It's a huge, nineteenth-century dairy barn:

Special two-man crosscut saw sharpening machines.







But the best thing about the saw is that it was handed down to Roy from some lumberjack ancestor. So, like the Chuck Box - this saw is "hereditary."

By heaven! cried my father, springing out of his chair, as he swore, - I have not one appointment belonging to me, which I set so much store by, as I do by these jack-boots, -they were our great-grandfather's, brother Toby, -they were hereditary.

Goodbye to a River, p.2 (Chapter quote)

Nitty Gritty

Friday

Next Friday the 11th, we're picking up out-of-towners at the airport at 1:30 and then heading east. Our Friday destination is a deer farm outside of Livingston, Tennessee just north of Cookeville. We'll be staying in a barn. It's a nice barn, though, and it means we don't have to unpack our gear before Saturday.

We can caravan out, but some of you may arrive separately. If you do, you should still come out as early as possible while there is still daylight. Like I said - it's a nice barn.

We'll recreate the dinner from the turkey farm on the Green River: brats on the grill.



Friday Directions

Take I-40 East toward Knoxville

Take Exit 288 (Highway 111, "Livingston/Sparta") just past Cookeville

Go LEFT at top of exit ramp on Hwy. 111

At 19.0 miles continue STRAIGHT on Hwy 85 into Livingston (Hwy 111 bears left)

Go 1/2 mile farther into the Courthouse square

Continue STRAIGHT out of the Courthouse square onto Hwy 52 EAST (and Hwy 85 EAST) following signs to "Jamestown"

Go 1 mile and take RIGHT fork at the Overton Motel following Hwy 52 EAST

Go 8.0 miles and take RIGHT turn on Hwy 85 EAST at the "West Fork General Store" (a bona fide Ser.Sta.Gro. and our breakfast on Saturday)

Go 3.5 miles to the "Falling Springs Missionary Baptist Church" and cemetery.

Turn LEFT immediately after the cemetery onto gravel road

Take immediate RIGHT to follow gravel fork down hill (instead of fork going up hill behind the cemetery)

Cross the "bridge."*

The barn is white or grey and is the first major building at the top of the hill. Don't travel down to the two farm houses. Our host, if you get there first, is Rob Daniels. Our rent is one bottle of Basil Hayden (BM please procure). The two stoners are the caretakers Johnny and Vanessa.



(* If you can't get comfortable with the idea of crossing this bridge and you're in a 4x4 you can ford the Obey River underneath the bridge. If not, and you're in an Acura Vigor, you'll have to just close your eyes and go for it. Actually, closing your eyes is a really bad idea - just go for it.)






Saturday

Breakfast is at 7:30 am at the "West Fork General Store" (see above) then we head south into the Sequatchie valley.

The put-in is on Hwy 127 in Dunlap, Tennessee. There is a commercial canoe livery on the highway ("Canoe the Sequatchie") that charges $5 per person to launch there. Not crazy about that violation of the federal navigation servitude and Public Trust Doctrine for the liberty of fishing in the sea, or creeks, or arms thereof, as a public common of piscary but it's the bridge we need and the pen may be mightier than the sword but it's not mightier than the shotgun. To get there, it's best to backtrack to Livingston and cross I-40 on Hwy. 111 instead of trying to continue east over the mountain. Hwy. 111 will take you all the way into Dunlap. Then just find Hwy. 127 and take it a couple of miles to the river.

Any questions?