Helen and I just returned from a three-month, 8,400-mile, RV trip that still provides us with wonderful memories of incredible places, delightful people, and over-the-top food. We’re grateful for the experience and feel so blessed that we had the opportunity to do something that we talked about and dreamed about for so long. Hopefully, much more of the same is in our future. Nevertheless, once home and the daily routines re-established, it didn’t take long until I felt the pull of the place I call my Tranquility Base, a name I borrowed from the astronauts that walked the moon’s surface.
The mountains and streams of the Cherokee National Forest near Tellico Plains, Tennessee have had a grip on me ever since my first camping trip there on my 30th birthday. To this day, I still can’t believe it took me that long to discover a place so peaceful and so beautiful, but I suppose the reason is that the entrance to the Great Smoky Mountain National Park is close to where I grew up therefore, I spent time there in my youth.
We had only been home for about two weeks when I felt the tug. Although we had just spent three months in a laid-back state of mind and hiking in the mountains of Arizona and Utah, I couldn’t help myself. I needed a mountain fix of a different kind. Using the excuse that I needed to explore the campgrounds for a site big enough for Lucy, our fifth-wheel that is larger than our previous trailers, I took off on the first morning I had a chance. The truth is that I needed to reassure myself that a place so dear to me had not disappeared in my absence. Silly, I know, but I had to find out.
Tellico Plains is a little more than an hour’s drive south of my home, and I could drive there blindfolded, I’m certain. The town sits on the edge of the National Forest. Less than two minutes from the center of this small town, the Tellico River, flowing out of the mountains, meets the side of the road. It is at that point where tranquility takes over: peace and calm reign supreme. I treasure every inch of the drive along that river to Big Oak Cove campground some 20 miles away.
I always roll down the windows so that I can hear the river roar as it cascades over the rocks. Filtered sunlight makes its way to the surface of the river in places, permitting a peek of the smooth stones beneath the clear water. Occasionally, a trout will create small ripples as it grazes through the latest hatch in search of a small meal.
A few miles along the road, I stop to join other visitors taking pictures of Bald River Falls, a waterfall that I have shared with readers several times. Recent rains have provided the river above the falls plenty of water to delight all of us with a camera. A cool mist drifts away from the falling water.
Driving on, I leave the River Road to follow North River, a smaller stream leading to North River Campground, the site of my first visit over forty years ago. I camped there with the Appalachian Anglers Society, a group passionate about fly fishing for Rainbow and Brook trout both here and in the National Park. There were about fifty fellow Anglers at my first camping experience. The number of campers has varied over the years, but the experience is always the same…pure fun in one of the most beautiful places on the planet. On this visit, there were three empty campsites and I feel sure that Lucy could fit in one of the two in front of the stream. Success!
I spent the rest of the afternoon visiting other campgrounds along the river. As usual, there were more campsites than campers. Selfishly, I remain hopeful that this slice of heaven remains a well-kept secret, but I fear that the word is getting out. I trust that readers will keep that secret between us friends.
I end most visits to Tellico with a stop at the trout hatchery to watch the huge trout swim in the long runs of water diverted from the river. A visit there is especially fun at feeding time when hundreds of brightly colored trout splash madly at food pellets thrown by a hatchery employee. I didn’t stop on this visit, time was fleeting, but I did see a Ranger release trout into the River as part of the stocking program. I made a note of the location.
Being short on time also prevented me from driving to the Bald at the top of Waucheesi Mountain, another favorite. When our children were young, we would camp at Holly Flats Campground at the base of the mountain and drive to the Bald at night to watch shooting stars streak across the sky. I loved hearing them “Ooh” and “Ahh” as a star flashed across their view. The drive down the dark mountain always put them to sleep.
Although I could have stayed for a week, the time had come to turn around and follow the River back to Tellico Plains and then on to Knoxville. As I always do, I insert my John Denver, Live CD into the player and sing along, accompanied by the roar of the River. This tradition began with the cassette version of the album that I would use to torture my children with my singing on our earlier camping trips. A CD replaced the cassette, but my singing has not improved. My apologies to Mr. Denver, but “Thank God I’m a Country Boy” always triggers an urge to sing. I calm down for “Annie’s Song” but still vocalize every word, loudly.
Tranquility Base…something everyone should have. The Apollo 11 astronauts had theirs, and I’m Easin’ Along in mine. Where’s yours?
