We Can't Make This Stuff Up

Day 139  | New Johnsonville  to Lick Hollow   |  4.9 Hours  |  29 Miles 

Before departing Pebble Isle Marina this morning, I took another trip around the boat with the chamois to clean up the spider poop. We unplugged, untied and headed over to the pumpout for a final emptying. The dockmaster informed us there were complimentary cinnamon buns in the restaurant and we couldn't say no to the latest display of their hospitality. He pulled two fresh out of the oven for us and we sat down with Justine and Jim from Knights' Kingdom for an very pleasant breakfast chat. They are 26 days into their Loop journey, having started from Luddington, MI. Its weird to think of ourselves as experienced old guard when every day brings experiences that impress, shock and/or dumbfound us. That was definitely the case today.

We left the marina around 9:00 and quickly got a better look at the strange structures we had spotted yesterday on our hike through the State Park. The concrete structures lined up in a perfect row are not a mysterious Stonehenge-like assembly, but the remains of an old railroad bridge. Out for a day of fishing and don't want to drift in the current? No problem for these guys. Just tie yourself off to the channel buoy.

We needed one railroad bridge to open for us today, but were not delayed. Most of our time was spent checking out the scenery. There were interesting layers visible in the exposed rockface of the shoreline. The main channel was lined by sandbars and islands, but an occasional cut connected our deep water with the flats on the other side of the barriers. Once again, trees were growing in the middle of open water proving to us how quickly the Tennessee River shallows outside the channel. A highway bridge crossed our route and the internet signal became stronger, indicating that we could possibly be returning to civilization.

I was out on the deck playing around with the fisheye lens when I heard the rat-tat-tat of automatic gunfire followed by a massive boom that sounded like the cannon fire we had heard at several fort reenactments. I returned to the pilothouse and asked Barry if he had heard it, when the sounds repeated themselves. The smoke was coming from a small gathering on the shore. Further inspection with binoculars and the long camera lens revealed several automatic weapons and a ton of ammunition on the picnic table. We had no idea what they were doing, but also had no desire to stick around and find out. About the time we had put that out of our mind, we spotted the red pickup truck in the water. We go through all of our CSI scenarios trying to figure out how this scene developed. Was the chained tire really going to serve as an anchor? Why was the hood up? All the guys standing around was a humorous touch. We would like to know how this story ended, but we were moving along.

Within eyeshot of the turnoff to our selected anchorage, large houses sprouted from the hillside. Some had landscaping full of the indigenous boulders. Some were highly manicured with complex retaining walls and multiple terraces. Still another had impressive wrought iron railings on multiple levels and a large spiral exterior spiral staircase.

We threaded the needle into the small mouth of Lick Creek and weaved our way back into a large anchorage in Lick Hollow (most likely pronounced Holler by locals) ... that also had strong cell service. Hearing our report, Larry and Carol on Sea Life followed us in and anchored nearby. They hopped in their dinghy and joined us for appys aboard Crossroads. 

Tomorrow we will go another 25 miles before ducking into an anchorage at Double Island. We'll see what surprises are waiting for us.