Kayaking down the the Big South Fork.
photo by Bart Whiteman
When descendants of the first English settlers of North Carolina came over the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains, they discovered a large, verdant meadow, part of which they subsequently referred to as Tennessee, a name some people claim comes from a village or tribe of people called Tanasi. Others claim it means “big winding river.” And that indeed it was. They had descended into the Tennessee River Valley, but the word “valley” implies a large low area between two high areas. What the heck was on the other side of this valley?
Eventually they learned it was an abnormally long and high plateau that now is known as the Cumberland Plateau. But back then, people didn’t quite know what it was, what to do with it, or what to call it, so it was given the generic name of “The Wilderness.” It was also a place to bypass in droves for the great trek further west. There were fabulous views and balmy breezes to be sure, but what could you do up there besides stare at the far horizon and watch the hawks slowly circling on the lookout for prey?
But times have changed. We have trekked west, and people are rebounding off the far Pacific shore (We can’t all live on Catalina Island now, can we?) and coming back to examine places that were overlooked and bypassed in years gone by. One of them is our old friend the Cumberland Plateau. Since we no longer are all seeking places to trap otters, farm, or build manufacturing plants, and current “game,” “crops,” and “outputs” have taken a far more diverse shape, those fabulous views are beginning to look more and more captivating with each passing year all by themselves. With modern communications, we now can flourish globally almost anywhere, but hopefully modern technology will be paired with a respect for the Cumberland Plateau’s natural beauty which after all was always ours to enjoy.
On a perfectly gorgeous fall Sunday, I drove to the North Cumberland Plateau from Chattanooga, a city partially surrounded by stray parts of the South Cumberland Plateau. My first stop was the Sunset Marina & Resort on Dale Hollow Lake (a man-made section of the Obey River) near the Kentucky line. This lakeside entertainment complex was built on the site of a rustic old fishing camp, and fishing is now only one of the many amusements to be found there. In the summer, it is a bustling beehive of activity, but I found that a fall visit was completely satisfying, and the lake’s charms could be sampled with less competition.
Besides fine dining at the resort’s restaurant, you can swim, rent a wave runner, relax in a variety of cottages, or take a leisurely lake cruise on a houseboat. As my group learned, though, there are houseboats, and then there are houseboats. We spent a little time on the good ship Anchors Aweigh, a floating bed and breakfast complete with six bedrooms and a hot tub on board. We are talking serious nautical luxury here.
Meanwhile, the sun had set in the west across the great expanse of the lake giving ample evidence for the derivation of our resort’s name.
The next morning, I chose to pursue some activities that would give me a very direct feel for what life was like for the people first settling and crossing this area more than two centuries ago by land and by river. I may also have been a little in the mood for pushing my own citified limits. First up was a trip to the Bandy Creek Stables for an all-day horseback ride to the Charit Creek Lodge, both near Jamestown, Tennessee.
I spent most of the day atop one sturdy horse named Joe. He proved to be a worthy partner for the long journey and carried me far into the Big South Fork National River and Recreation Area and back again with only one wayward incident. I was doing fairly well atop Joe and was thinking that my cowboy days were not entirely behind me when suddenly came the sound of galloping hooves approaching us from the rear, which is the position Joe and I manned during the first part of our group’s journey. Joe, being naturally curious, made a sudden 180-degree turn to eyeball the cause of all the clattering. I immediately provided irrefutable proof of several of Sir Isaac Newton’s theorems dealing with inertia and centrifugal force. I held on tightly as Joe spun. After a moment or two of minor alarm, Joe and I concluded our swift geometric ballet, and we re-joined our group as it continued en route, but not without a few words to the couple of hotdogs that had created the disturbance in the first place.
We made it without further incident in time for lunch at the Charit Creek Lodge, which is a rustic compound of buildings accessible only by foot, horseback, or a 4x4 on a dry day. It’s a place that re-defines the notion of “getting away from it all,” but they serve great barbecue nonetheless. There is no electricity, and staying here overnight in bunk bed accommodations would truly give you the sense of what it was like for some of the early settlers to set out and pioneer this part of the world. I’ve always had a great sense of admiration for the thousands of people who basically decided to bag civilization as they knew it at the time and head off into the unknown, never knowing what the next hour let alone the future might bring. Perhaps in the silence surrounding places like Charit Creek Lodge, we can hear the same sounds that they heard as they plunged ahead with little more than resolute will to keep them going and the occasional company of a few fellow travelers.
Not being one to rest on my equestrian laurels, I was up the next morning to fearlessly don a wet suit and head off for a round of kayaking down part of the Big South Fork of the Cumberland River in a beautiful canyon area formed eons ago when the river, which once ran underground, eroded its stone roof enough that it fell into the river bed, leaving massive boulder formations at every conceivable pitch and angle. It was also the makings for some nicely challenging rapids.
The Sheltowee Trace Outfitters were our guide and provided the appropriate equipment for the adventure. When the water is high, you can head down river in a large rubber raft, but we were there when the level was lower, so smaller vessels were called for. I was in something called a “duckie,” which is actually a hybrid of a kayak and a rubber raft. It was a solo vessel that actually has a self-bailing mechanism.
When we had time to look up from handling the periodic rapids, the scenery was completely breathtaking. I found myself again musing about the incredible experience it had to have been to be heading down a river like this for the first time, perhaps on an improvised raft-like vessel. People came to the frontier often with their faith in their pockets, but what greeted them had to have expanded that faith with every bend in the river or the path, and with every new vista.
I learned that horseback riding and kayaking use mutually exclusive muscle groups, but together they use just about every muscle you have. These sorts of adventures are not for the faint of heart, body, or spirit, but they can go along way in restoring all three, if that is where the need lies. Call it the Upper Cumberland or “The Wilderness,” it still holds many wonders for the visitor or the settler returning if for nothing else than to follow the watchful circles of the hawk.
Contacts:
Sunset Marina & Resort
Tennessee Highway 111
2040 Sunset Dock Road
Byrdstown, TN 38549
931-864-3146
www.sunsetmarina.com
Anchors Away
1019 East Ridge
Byrdstown, TN 38549
866-864-7377
www.boatbedandbreakfast.com
Bandy Creek Stables
1845 Old Sunbright Road
Jamestown, TN 38556
423-286-7433
Charit Creek Lodge
250 Apple Valley Road
Sevierville, TN 37862
865-429-5704
www.charitcreek.com
Sheltowee Trace Outfitters
P.O. Box 1060
Whitley City, KY 42653
888-782-7171
www.ky-rafting.com
Horseback riding in Big South Fork National River & Recreation Area
photo by Bart Whiteman