Lower Chasteen Creek
If our trip was anything, it was low tech. Like I said before it was 1994, so that meant no cellphones, no digital cameras, and definitely no email. One of the things I love about Gene is his passion for true instruments. He still uses a fountain pen, a typewriter, and for pictures a sweet old 35mm camera. I have one too, but I'll be honest, I've never taken a picture with it. While I like the idea of old tech, I've realized that without new tech I would be nothing but an amateur. The only thing I did have a fascination with in the old tech arena is tape recorders. Ever since I was a little kid, I loved recording stupid songs, dinner conversations, and reporting on family events. My little brother was often my tag-a-long correspondent. The funniest thing I ever recorded was him singing the alphabet, he caught the hiccups half way through. He threw up on me afterwards. See that's what's great about recording the past, be it audio or visual. The pictures and sounds capture succinct moments, but when we look at them or listen to them, we actually remember everything that happened before and after those events. They act as bookmarks in our memory, little sparks that open up what was really going on. Now some moments are more meaningful than others, I could have mentioned how my favorite recording was of my number one hit "chicken rock and roll." Funny, but it wouldn't have offered me the opportunity to mention barfing.
So to aid me on my recollection, I have recordings and pictures. When we crossed the border into Tennessee, we came across one of the gnarliest accidents we've ever seen. And it stood as a reminder of what could have happened back in PA. The snow line had stopped in West Virginia, so there were no banks protecting drivers who lost control and careened off the side of the road. By the time we had passed, the top of the car had already been peeled back like a sardine can. I've seen some pretty bad accidents in the past. When I think about it, in my life I've probably seen way too many sheets covering dead bodies. One time, I saw a guy who just had his head blown out. He was lying face down in a pool of blood at a gas station. Meanwhile, I'm just some middle class kid from Long Island, but what the hay, I guess it's these things that help you remember how precious life is. Maybe those are the things that flash through your mind when you go into a tailspin at 70mph on a highway, they make you grip the wheel tighter.
The route to the Smokey's is mixed with beautiful scenery, Dollywood, and a number of establishments that poke fun at the back naturedness of rural Tennessee. It was sad that cultures were being exploited to make a buck, but I guess we all do that anyway, right? I live in NY for crying out loud. When we got to the mountains, we picked a site that was about 4 miles off the road. Now that may not sound to far, but we did have some heavy gear and hadn't really slept that much in the past day. Anyway our site selection had a lot to do with staying low enough so that we wouldn't freeze our butts off at night. We hit the site, started a fire, and decided to have a smoke. Our cuisine that night was noodle soup, with some bread on the side. Yummy. It was nice and hot at least. I decided to fill my thermos with 2 parts bread, 3 parts soup, a concoction I fondly called bread soup. At this point I was solidly on Sam's nerves. I always had a way of him and when pushed he would launch at me like crazed lunatic. One time I kicked him in the head lightly and he decided to plow me into a table. He did start the fight, but I kind of kept it going. So when I decided to tell Sam he should try my bread soup he politely refused, but I egged him on. Yeah I probably went a little far with it, anyway, he decided to verbally assault me for a half hour.
The fire was nice and the sky was very clear. Camping in the back counry is amazing. It can be a little scary, considering there are bears and other animals, but that's nature. As I mentioned before, we decided to have a smoke before dinner and were toasty to say the least. I still have the recording. We basically decided to talk about of all things nature and colors. OK we were grungy kids, who had a fondness for the 60's culture. Jimi Hendrix was, and still is a god to us. I'm still in awe when I listen to Jimi play. Our conversation somehow ended with me making some stupid comment about ice being more powerful than fire. Ah to be young. So we decided to turn in for the night, a long road lay ahead. In many ways our stop in the mountains was a weigh station, a point in between where we were coming from and where we were going. We hadn't really interacted with many people at this point, except for rest stop employees, and the occasional cop that couldn't pass up pulling over a truck with two koreans and a curly haired white dude barreling down the highway. Over the next couple of days we would meet a lot of strange characters.
Wait. Bout an hour after we passed out, we were suddenly woken up by what felt like a freight train bearing down on us. We stuck our heads out the tent, and noticed about 8 horses galloping into our site. They circled our tent and posted up about 20 yards away. It was some scary shit. Anyway, figured I would mention it. Memphis here we come.
So to aid me on my recollection, I have recordings and pictures. When we crossed the border into Tennessee, we came across one of the gnarliest accidents we've ever seen. And it stood as a reminder of what could have happened back in PA. The snow line had stopped in West Virginia, so there were no banks protecting drivers who lost control and careened off the side of the road. By the time we had passed, the top of the car had already been peeled back like a sardine can. I've seen some pretty bad accidents in the past. When I think about it, in my life I've probably seen way too many sheets covering dead bodies. One time, I saw a guy who just had his head blown out. He was lying face down in a pool of blood at a gas station. Meanwhile, I'm just some middle class kid from Long Island, but what the hay, I guess it's these things that help you remember how precious life is. Maybe those are the things that flash through your mind when you go into a tailspin at 70mph on a highway, they make you grip the wheel tighter.
The route to the Smokey's is mixed with beautiful scenery, Dollywood, and a number of establishments that poke fun at the back naturedness of rural Tennessee. It was sad that cultures were being exploited to make a buck, but I guess we all do that anyway, right? I live in NY for crying out loud. When we got to the mountains, we picked a site that was about 4 miles off the road. Now that may not sound to far, but we did have some heavy gear and hadn't really slept that much in the past day. Anyway our site selection had a lot to do with staying low enough so that we wouldn't freeze our butts off at night. We hit the site, started a fire, and decided to have a smoke. Our cuisine that night was noodle soup, with some bread on the side. Yummy. It was nice and hot at least. I decided to fill my thermos with 2 parts bread, 3 parts soup, a concoction I fondly called bread soup. At this point I was solidly on Sam's nerves. I always had a way of him and when pushed he would launch at me like crazed lunatic. One time I kicked him in the head lightly and he decided to plow me into a table. He did start the fight, but I kind of kept it going. So when I decided to tell Sam he should try my bread soup he politely refused, but I egged him on. Yeah I probably went a little far with it, anyway, he decided to verbally assault me for a half hour.
The fire was nice and the sky was very clear. Camping in the back counry is amazing. It can be a little scary, considering there are bears and other animals, but that's nature. As I mentioned before, we decided to have a smoke before dinner and were toasty to say the least. I still have the recording. We basically decided to talk about of all things nature and colors. OK we were grungy kids, who had a fondness for the 60's culture. Jimi Hendrix was, and still is a god to us. I'm still in awe when I listen to Jimi play. Our conversation somehow ended with me making some stupid comment about ice being more powerful than fire. Ah to be young. So we decided to turn in for the night, a long road lay ahead. In many ways our stop in the mountains was a weigh station, a point in between where we were coming from and where we were going. We hadn't really interacted with many people at this point, except for rest stop employees, and the occasional cop that couldn't pass up pulling over a truck with two koreans and a curly haired white dude barreling down the highway. Over the next couple of days we would meet a lot of strange characters.
Wait. Bout an hour after we passed out, we were suddenly woken up by what felt like a freight train bearing down on us. We stuck our heads out the tent, and noticed about 8 horses galloping into our site. They circled our tent and posted up about 20 yards away. It was some scary shit. Anyway, figured I would mention it. Memphis here we come.
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