Leaving the Smokeys behind

Early departure from Arrow Creek RV park and heading to Janet and Joe's for a little birthday celebration on Janet's birthday (July 15th).  Didn't know until a day or two before but, nice coincidence and good to think I would be there in Sumter, SC to celebrate her birthday.

I noticed a bit of extra noise coming from the Jeep's front end as I pulled onto the local roads heading for the nearest connection to route 40E.  The noise seemed to come mostly when making some strong left turns and my thoughts went to power steering.  Off and on rain kept me from stopping very soon on the road to Sumter and ultimately found a Walmart near Spartanburg to get an oil change and the power steering checked out -- pool of fluid under the Jeep confirmed the leak and they couldn't fix or replace the high pressure hose that was leaking -- could only buy a large container of fluid and refill periodically as I headed east.  Had called ahead to Joe to see if a dealer might be open to perform a fix and he checked all around the area and could only find a small shop near the air force base that might be able to do the work.

Made a number of stops at rest stops on the way and tried wrapping the hose with duct tape and refilling the reservoir -- avoided as much as possible making left turns or hard left turns.  After making it to Joe and Janet's place we settled in for the evening and waited for Janet's arrival from work -- I had a card and a bottle of wine for her (picked up at the Walmart while waiting for the oil change).  We had a nice dinner at one of their favorite restaurants before heading back to start our slightly longer than expected visit -- parts for the Jeep were not readily available and the power steering pump needed to be replaced in addition to the hp hoses.  It was a really nice visit and Joe went to an awful lot of trouble to help me get the Jeep fixed (one more time) and I really appreciated all he did.  Thanks again, Joe.

Road to and from Joe and Janet's

Joe and Janet

We dug into the ancestry of the family (mostly the Cunningham side) and had nice evenings with good conversation (Joe did most of the digging).  The world's best blueberries were right in their backyard and I couldn't resist picking a bucket full and they had the best pecans from their own trees too -- they gave me enough to last the rest of July.  Janet baked this great blueberry pie -- probably because I picked so many and she was probably afraid they'd go to waste (they were the greatest snack when I hit the road from there back to VA).

They had so many cats too and two rambuncous dogs -- when they were let out of their fenced enclosure.  It was a hoot to see one of the cats stand tall near one of the dog's food dishes -- even as they came charging from their pen.  Something about the Cunningham's and pets -- it seems so many of us have them.

 

I can see 4 cats - Do you?

Baby of the group - skitty kitty

Heading East -- The Smokey Mountains

Sunday morning, Rick and Kay left yesterday afternoon so, one last try this morning fishing this beautiful stream at the approaches to Wolf Creek Pass.  Slight chill in the air so the coffee tasted even better than usual and the sun rising gave enough light to add a warm feeling inside (if not on the outside yet).  Pondered the thoughts of catching another fish or two and hiking upstream to a few holes less accessible to most people -- holes that might produce the 2 foot fish of my dreams.  I did decide beforehand that if I lost the last two Rooster-tails to snags and such that I still would leave with a sense of good fortune that I had even made it here and had been so lucky to catch the fish I had (and that Rick had the same satisfaction perhaps).  Will always remember that look on his face and even have a picture somewhere in an email -- haven't figured how to transfer it to a folder yet (need my son or daughter to help me perhaps).

So I climbed the hillside by the stream close to the easements of the highway going over the pass -- managed to stay out of the stream and climbed onto some large boulders overlooking the pool that looked most promising to produce that lunker of a fish.  Awkward casting but, got the lures where I thought they might be best drawn through the hole and into the sight of some waiting fish -- only caught snags and lost both of the Rooster-tails fairly quickly so, abandoned hope of getting that fish (this time).

Packed up the camper and hitched it to the trailer with visions of a return trip in the near future.  The drive back down through Del Norte, Alamosa and over La Veta pass seemed to pass in a blurr and soon the Spanish Peaks were again in sight (tried a couple more pictures at a stop a little ways past the approaches to the pass).  I also pondered what might be there to be discovered at the base of the Peaks near the town of La Veta to the southwest -- maybe a little side trip the next time I'm in the area.

Reconnected to I-25S and headed for Raton with hopes of getting through the tip of Texas and most of Oklahoma.  Raton pass was a fairly steady climb and the desolate stretches after were nothing to be desired stops along the way.  In fact, as I headed through Oklahoma, it looked every bit as desolate as the Texas or New Mexico desert country and the temps were over 100 degrees making it less desirable to stop anywhere in this part of the country.  Did end up stopping for the night in Ft. Smith Oklahoma when it got nearly dark and when I stopped the temp was still pretty unbearable.  The motel where I stayed had me parking the Jeep and camper on a street parallel to the motel, in front of the room I had.  However, when I parked on the street and stepped out to get my thinks, I discovered mounds of fire ants right beside the curb of the street -- decided not to leave the rig there and pulled closer to the room.  Didn't want an infestation of ants going anywhere with me, especially fire ants.

Next morning, got an early start and hoped to get somewhere into Tennessee by end of day.  Ended up stopping at the same motel in Tennessee I had stayed on the trip out and visited the little bar again in hopes of seeing the young bartender that I had met before (and danced with).  She wasn't working that evening but, the DJ I had danced with was tending the bar this time and we chatted a bit.  A couple red-neck guys were at the bar too and shared their left over sushi from their evening meal -- highlight of the night.  The same "regulars" were there that night too but, they had a couple tables setup where they were playing poker.

Next day, was like the previous as I wanted to get to the Smokey Mountains and check out my Cherokee ancestry as best I could there.  Made it to the RV park by mid afternoon and settled into an end corner locations -- 2 and 1/2 days from southwest Colorado was, in my mind, making good timing (some other campers confirmed that too).  Not a luxurious place but, the people were really friendly and from all over.  The pool looked liked it had an algae bloom like my pond back in VA -- got corrected the next afternoon.

Took the Jeep and headed for Smokey Mountain National Park in the morning and planned to make it over to Cherokee, NC on the other side.  The usual fog of the Smokey's persisted most of the morning and pictures at the top were iffy at best -- staying on the roads sometimes tricky too.  My mind must still have some of that fog in it too as I recall the order of what I did those few days there.  I know that I visited the Cherokee museum and saw their video/diorama but, among their many books on Cherokee ancestors, couldn't find any familiar names or confirmation of the Cunninghams or Russells among them.  Some slight disappointment.  On the way back to my RV park on the west side of the park, I stopped and gave a young woman a ride over to the other side of the mountains and dropped her off in the middle of the tourist town of Gatlinburg.

Clingmans Dome

Indian Creek Falls

The next day, I decided to go again to the eastern side of the park and visit the town of Bryson City where many people went tubing down a stream there -- I wanted to hike around and see the waterfalls that were sprinkled about the countryside and around that same stream Deep Creek).  The area around there looked like the economy had failed and numerous businesses were closed or in disrepair -- some deserted.  Maybe they couldn't sell their moonshine on the side -- I might have bought some.

Some of the flora

Some Idiot

Tom Branch Falls



Meditation Spot - Mid Stream

 I stopped this time near the top and hiked to the lookout at the highest point in the Smokeys and took a few timely shots of the best views mother nature would present -- had to nap once I parked and waited for the fog to clear some.  After getting back to camp and having some lunch, I headed to a nearby Greenbriar entrance to the park and followed a narrow road up a Pigeon creek for a few miles.  Then, I hiked along the stream and found a nice place where I could climb out on the rocks to the middle of the stream and meditated there for some time (wondered how my Cherokee ancestors might have felt here in these beautiful surroundings -- hard to leave behin).



Wishing for a spiritual connection all the time I spent in the Smokey Mountains made me wish I had more time to spend here but, I needed to make it to Sumter, SC and wish my cousing Janet a Happy Birthday.





Riverbend Resort -- South Fork, CO

The familiar road (I-25) we had travelled many times going to Canon City was beneath me as I headed farther south to Pueblo and onto an unfamiliar road heading west through Alamosa, Del Norte and South Fork.  First, had to make it over La Veta pass and into the high desert of southwest Colorado -- home of the Great Sand Dunes park (not on my list of things to see, though I did from some distance to the north).  Spanish Peaks were to the south as I made the approaches to La Veta pass -- spectacular but, cloudy conditions made them hard to take good pictures.

Riverbend Resort, South Fork, CO

When I arrived after the hot, dry drive the crisp mountain air welcomed me and the immediate beauty of the site was impressive.  My site gave me a great view of the stream below and small tents were spaced along the stream -- mine was the last one before the one lane dirt road bent to take campers to the sites below.  The approaches to Wolf Creek Pass were just a short distance beyond the dirt road.  After setting camp, I anxiously trundled down the hillside to check with fisherman lining the banks of the stream -- found one young man (from Texas) busily cleaning a whole stringer of trout (one of them around 22 inches).  Happy Days ahead and good fishing.  Sent a note or called Rick and Kay to tell them of the impressive fishing -- wished they could have joined me.

Next day, they informed me they would be coming down afterall -- couldn't resist after the news of the good fishing.  Had my usual pot of brew in the French press that morning and headed down the hill to get an early start at trying my luck in this promising and beautiful mountain stream.

I used all kinds of lures and even some salmon eggs but, didn't seem to have the right touch so, asked the young man from Texas what he had been using -- think he told me something about flies and some Dr. Martins lures (which I didn't have either).  So I decided to try a couple Rooster-Tails and wham, the nice hole in the middle of the stream burst with action -- yielding two really nice keepers and a couple little ones that I released.  That lit up my face for sure and inside I had this great feeling of happiness and the memory of what it had been like to catch these beautiful fish -- not since my youth and one time in Pagosa Springs with Rick and Kay during a vacation.

Rick and Kay arrived after a 4 or 5 hour drive from Denver over more scenic roads like 285 and more in a direct line to South Fork -- though I had forgotten to give them the name of the Riverbend Resort so, they first stopped at South Fork RV park and didn't find me there -- they called and I directed them toward the pass and the little RV park.

After tossing their stuff in the camper and giving them one end of the unit (closest to the toilet) we headed to the stream for some fishing (and I couldn't wait to show them the two beauties I had so fortunately caught).  The two fish would probably be too much for the three of us to finish in a normal meal but, the mountain air must have helped us put down every last bite.

Next day, we went down to the stream early and worked the same stretch I had fished but, nothing seemed to be working for them -- I managed to catch another one like the first two and hoped Rick and Kay would follow soon with their own.  A little later, my brother Rick came down the bank of the stream with this look of surprise and glee all over his face and in his hand was the biggest of all the fish we caught.  What a sight and great memory.

Rick and Kay left that afternoon before we could cook up another feast of trout so, I gave them to some new arrivals at the lower camp by the river.  One guy in their group said he had been coming there for over 6 years and that the two trout were the biggest he had seen taken from that section of the stream.  He also said that the section of stream had previously been really flat (more for fly fishing and smaller fish) with the deep hole being added a few years back -- proved to be a good thing for the Three Musketeers.  Only regret is that Kay didn't catch one too.

Denver Burches and July 4th

Just like old times, the "Three Musketeers" were together again and picking up where we had left off in Virginia (most recently after Billy and Marybeth had relocated to Denver and drew Rick and Kay's attention for their later relocation).  Recounting times and memories shared and discussing the family tree had us focused on visiting sites Rick and I remembered from growing up in Denver (so many years ago -- over 50 plus now).

Rick and Kay (as always)

We managed a few get togethers with my niece and nephew and some of their friends at times.  Fun to see the younger folks enjoying each others company and a few of us older folks as well.

Billy and Hanna

Marybeth and friends

 The threesome made some visits to the old neighborhood (Westwood) and ventured out to Dinosaur Ridge for a little hike around and a trip to the little old town of Morrison that Rick and I used to pedal our bikes through (after going up the now closed section of road with the Dinosaur tracks).  Made it through Red Rocks after our hike but, couldn't get into the Ampitheater as it was closed midday for a concert that evening in response to the entertainers requests.

In Morrison, we walked along Bear Creek on the new pathway and saw some interesting birds -- diving underwater like Cormorants (but they weren't).  Then farther down the pathway, Kay spotted another bird standing in the waters just below a 3 ft waterfall -- it looked like a taxidermied specimen as it stood quite motionless while stalking any fish that might come over the falls.  We never had seen this type of bird before in Colorado and later discovered it to be a black hooded Heron as best we could tell.  In another outing later in Denver we saw another of these birds in Cherry Creek close to where it emptied into the S. Platte River.

Friday, July 1st the three of us joined nephew Billy for a round of golf at the John F. Kennedy golf club -- where views of the mountains were distracting and triggered fond memories while taking them in (camera could not capture what we saw with our eyes for some reason).  Don't know what we all scored but, we did have a fun time -- first time I had played since early May before I hit the road in my Jeep (with pop-up behind).

Fourth of July, Rick and Kay had a cookout with Billy and Marybeth and friends joining us.  Afterwards the younger crowd headed elsewhere and we three went to the neighbors behind Rick and Kay's to watch fireworks from their balcony (looking east).  City of Denver's fireworks were the night before at the Civic Center in the middle of town and we saw them on TV.

The day Billy and Hanna and Marybeth and Allie headed out of Denver going east for vacations, we headed into the mountains to try fishing up at Georgetown -- the little lake I had seen on my trip down to Denver (one I had seen many times during years past).  Our luck wasn't so good at fishing so we headed back down the canyon and into Denver -- decided to stop at Mt. Olivet Cemetery on the outskirts to look up the gravesite of our deceased infant brother.

Larry Burch's grave

We started in error looking for a "Paul Burch" but, when we got to the grave, realized we had named him "Larry" per mom's directions instead of "Baby Burch" (June of 1947, I believe he was still born).  We had a small pinkish stone added with a bronze plate in years past and it was the first time I think Rick had seen it -- I did remember the canal nearby and the little statue of a child not far away -- the older section of the cemetery but, it had been maintained better than in years past.

Thursday, I headed out of Denver and looked to plant the pop-up camper at South Fork, CO near a "Gold Medal" stream to use the last few days of my 5 day fishing pass.