TR: My cabin in the hills of Caroline (pt. 1)

Had an uneventful flight into the Knoxville airport, stocked up on
beer and headed for Robbinsville. I had read about the Tail of the
Dragon, but nothing can prepare you for the experience itself
(especially on a Saturday). For those of you who don't know what I'm
talking about, it's a winding mountain road with hairpin turn after
hairpin turn. Bikers and sportscar enthusiasts gather there to drive
too fast and run into each other or drive right off the mountainside.
My impression as I was driving it was it was like being dropped into the
middle of a casting call for stunt-drivers for a Mad Max movie. And
when I arrived at the house, the fellow who manages the property said
matter-of-factly, "oh they lose two or three every weekend over there".

The log house was right on B*g Sn*wb*rd, about 30' from the water.
Some of you may recognize the place, as Jeffy was the one who
recommended it to me: http://uweb.txstate.edu/~cv01/cabin.jpg

Sunday:

Sunday morning I woke up to a temp of about 55 degrees (heavenly)
and headed to Junction to introduce myself to B.S. As it turned out,
she was the one who did most of the talking. I hiked up to S*ss*fr*ss
Creek (thanks, Wayno for telling me about the landmark), backtracked a
bit and proceeded to wonder how I was going to get down to the water.
Went back to S*ss*fr*ss and found easy access there, so I rock-hopped,
crawled and stalked my way upstream, getting in the stream when
necessary and going above it when I could. I wound up with nothing but
a slightly wrenched knee and some cuts and scratches to show for it.

Remembering that Jeff had mentioned S*ss*fr*ss as being productive
despite its size, I retraced my steps to the crossing and started
working my way up. The first cast I made (well, "cast" may not be the
correct word for it) I hooked up with a small fish and promptly lost it.
OK, at least I knew that there were actually some fish in Graham County.

I rock-hopped my way upstream, fording wherever it looked
productive, flipping, dapping and rollcasting in some gorgeous little
runs and mini-pools (http://uweb.txstate.edu/~cv01/sassafrass01.jpg).
My timing was terrible, and I didn't land any fish, but I got enough
action from the little guys to make it a thoroughly enjoyable
experience. Also, I started to get a feel for what I needed to do to
successfully fish this sort of water. (One of the first things I did
was chop my leader way back.)

With renewed confidence, I headed back below S*ss*fr*ss and found a
way down to the Sn*wb*rd. Basically I followed a little
mini-fall/feeder trickle down the side of the hill. I slipped and
slided down and started working back upstream with the exact same
results as before. The water looked great; as if it had to hold decent
fish, but either I was doing something wrong or the fish just weren't
interested.

By about 3:00 I was getting tired, and my "technique" started to
show it, so I scrambled my way up the hill and hiked back out. When I
got back to the car, I had the best beer I've ever had in my life. I
then took it slow on the drive out so I could scope out some of the
other sections of the B.S. Got back to the log house, and gave the
water behind it a try for an hour or so. Missed a couple there, and
finally called it quits and just sat back to muse on the day's
happenings and decide where to head on Monday.

Random ramblings:

In retrospect, it might have been a good idea to save the BS
excursion for later in the week. But, I had figured that most of the
easy water to reach sould be crowded on a Sunday, and I saw only two
hikers the whole time I was on BS. Oh well, nothing wrong with getting
a lesson in humility every once in a while.

I wanted to travel fairly light, so I had to pick between taking my
net (mostly to make photo-ops easier should I actually catch anything)
and my Leiki wading/walking-stick/monopod. I opted for the Leiki, and
that was the single best decision I made all week. It telescopes to
roughly 3' long, and I attached it to the back of my vest with one of
those magnetic-catch lanyard things. It was out of my way when I didn't
need it, but was easily within reach. When I was wading some of the
more slippery areas, it was a lifesaver, and I just let it dangle behind
me while fishing. It never once got in my way.

Does a yallerhammer sound like a woodpecker with power tools (a
percussion drill specifically)? If so, I heard one at the house the
first night.

Next up: The 'Luftee and Br*dl*y F*rk of the Luftee.


Chuck Vance

"Conan The Librarian" wrote in message percussion
drill specifically)? If so, I heard one at the house the
first night.

IJ offers -think the old timers up that way call aYellow-shafted
fliker a Yellowhammer.[found on ground most of time]

You probably heard a Pileated Woodpecker[[[ found in trees]

Conan The Librarian wrote:

Had an uneventful flight into the Knoxville airport, stocked up on
beer and headed for Robbinsville. ... etc.

Exc*ll**t. Very much looking forward to Pt. 2.

JR