Category: Fun

It’s been one of those weeks. I had to prepare for some meetings at the church. Helen (adorable wife) had been in Charleston with the grandchildren and left me with all the housework (just kidding). Other than that there wasn’t a lot happening and I needed some activity to report to the thousands of Easin’ Along readers eagerly anticipating this week’s post.

On Wednesday there was a report that a movie that is currently being filmed in Knoxville was planning to film a few scenes in Market Square downtown. The movie is titled “Dog Years” and stars Burt Reynolds, Ariel Winter, and Chevy Chase. As anyone could imagine our Scruffy Little City is all atwitter about this, so I thought I would drift up to Market Square to see if I could spot a few stars.

As a side note, there was a casting call for this movie several weeks ago and anyone interested in being an extra was invited to come to a shopping mall on a Sunday afternoon and apply. Well, I couldn’t resist an opportunity for my big show biz break so I went.  I was certain that they would pick me out of the crowd as a perfect stand-in for Burt.  The line was three hours long. When I got to the end of the line, the production crew took my picture and my phone number. They smiled and said “Don’t call us. We’ll call you.”  They must have lost my number.

Back at Market Square, the movie crew had moved on and the stars were somewhere else doing star stuff. I was disappointed to be sure, but I was also hit with a blast of blogger’s good luck. Today was the day for the Farmer’s Market on Market Square and the vendors were setting up for a big day.  It was a little early, but I thought I would hang around and see what would be in the offing. That decision produced a lot of fun.

There are three basic types of vendors at the Market. There are the produce farmers who bring in the fruits of their labor from the farms in the area. There are vendors who bring in food products to sell like baked goods, honey, sauces, and salsa are a few examples. Then there are the retail vendors (jewelry, clothing, art) who always have interesting wares. Each vendor has a space that is approximately 10’ by 10’ or multiples of that as one bakery there did on this day.

It was a bit early so I walked through the middle of the market to see what looked interesting.  I made a note of the large cookies being offered by one of the bakeries, and some great looking bread by another. I also noticed some beautiful beets and onions on display by a vegetable farmer. Later, when I looked at the picture taken I noticed that “beets” was misspelled on his sign. Oh well, bloggers need to spell beets not farmers, and I can assure this farmer that growing them pays better.

I took a seat at an iron picnic table at one end of the market and waited for the crowd to gather. A couple of street musicians that went by the name “Outlaw Ritual” were warming up nearby. The tip jar was empty, but the music was good. The tall tattooed lady playing the bass was really getting into her art. I gave her the name Tallulah…

My seat gave me a front row view of all the action going on at the fountain between Tallulah and me. Things were slow at first, but not long after I sat down, two little boys walked cautiously up to the fountain. Their Mom was standing to the side in rapt attention and very quickly, with no prompting; one of the boys ran headlong through the fountain – clothes and all. His brother followed. It was such a joy.  I took pictures as quickly as I could focus the camera and one of them is featured at the top of this post. The Mom was good enough to give me the boy’s names so, to Trip and Raylin, thanks for the show…I loved every minute.

By now the office workers and downtown residents were filling the market so I decided to walk through the crowd to see what was selling. Tallulah and her Outlaw were being splashed by a couple of energetic youngsters the fountain. They decided to go make music somewhere else.

I walked slowly back toward the other end of the market. Cookies seemed to be selling well and I decided that I better dive in before they were all gone.  I bought two large chocolate chip and two chewy ginger cookies. The ginger cookies smelled great and I couldn’t resist.  I got Bob the Baker to pose for the camera. He was kind enough to permit me, but he was being swamped.

 

 

 

Dogs aren’t allowed in the market unless they are marked as service animals or are small enough to be carried by their owners. Several service animals were around and well behaved but, there was one small Pomeranian that captivated everyone. I got his young owner to calm “Foxy” long enough to have his picture taken. It seemed that Foxy would have preferred an air-conditioned kennel over the hubbub, but his owner wasn’t ready to forgo the attention.

I arrived at the other end of the market. Tallulah and company had set up there and brought in another Outlaw to play the fiddle. Casting a quick glance at the tip jar, I determined that it would be a while before they took a lunch break.

The crowd was getting large and I wanted to make one more pass before heading down to the Tourist Bureau and the WDVX Blue Plate Special (featured in an earlier post). Passing by the bread vendor, I was eager to learn about a variety named German Lager Bread. I asked the pretty lady about it and she explained that it was a combination of wheat and rye which gave it a little firmer texture than sandwich bread. She spoke with a European accent that sounded German though I couldn’t be sure. However, I was sure that she knew how to bake bread and picked up a loaf. She was a little reluctant to have her picture taken, but in the end she was a good sport.  The bread was delicious.

Back at the fountain, the kids in bathing suits had taken over and were having a grand time, and I was sweating enough to consider joining them, but common sense prevailed.  Besides, I wasn’t wearing my best boxers on this day.

On either side of the Square the pubs, cafes, taverns, and craft breweries were opening (if anyone knows the difference, please tell me in the comments section below) and beer and burgers were being consumed en masse. I love a good brew, but never before five o’clock and that was still five hours away. Nevertheless, I noticed at least one rather large gentleman who may be on a schedule different from mine. I grabbed a quick snap of his T-shirt. You can be the judge.

 

 

It was time to go.  I hustled down to the Blue Plate Special in time to catch the second act and what a treat it was.  Normally, the Blue Plate Special features what is called “roots” music, meaning the music that is so prevalent in our area…country, folk, bluegrass, and southern gospel. On this day we would be treated to a group named the Anderson String Quartet who would open with a classical piece by Haydn. It was beautiful. The group consisted of the Anderson Family.  There was Mom (Lisa) who played violin. Mom was joined by violinists Lydia 15, Garren 14, and cellist Anna 11.  Their music was outstanding and I captured a short video which I posted on the Easin’ Along Facebook page. Please take a minute and check it out.

Well, I didn’t get to meet Burt or Chevy, but hopefully they put on some dark glasses and came through the crowd at the Market. If so, their day would end up being as lucky as mine was.

I’ll be Easin’ Along.

On our journey up the East Coast last summer we enjoyed a very unique privilege that is given to retired military servicemen because we are allowed to stay in guest housing on our nation’s military bases. That privilege and honor allows us to be around the best of the best among us – American soldiers, sailors, and airmen. During our stays I love it when I have the opportunity to get up early and watch a formation of young soldiers march in step on their way to their day’s duty or training. I get a tremendous thrill listening to a bugle play Reveille or To The Colors. I am touched when I see a young person in uniform carrying a child on his shoulders, knowing that family separation is part of serving our country.

One of the most memorable experiences on the trip was the opportunity to tour the nuclear submarine USS Boise. Our tour guide was an extraordinary young sailor who was so proud of his service and the opportunity to be a crew member on this distinguished vessel.

Nevertheless, as memorable as our experiences were, the most powerful experience was the time spent at the Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial.

As we observe Memorial Day by honoring those who made the ultimate sacrifice in defending the freedom we all cherish, I offer the thoughts and feelings we had during those opportunities and hope Easin’ Along readers will join me as we revisit those two experiences once more. The links are in green type above.

Easin’ Along offers a hearty salute to our brave military men and women for answering the call to serve.   Easin’ Along also hopes we never forget the sacrifice of the many courageous Americans who answered that call…

 

I have posted quite often about finding new and fun-filled ways to stay active on our slow walk through the golden years, but this past weekend I participated in an activity that was fun-filled, but definitely not new. Ease Along with me here and I will tell you about a great time with great friends, some old and some not so.

Camp II is an annual outing hosted by the members of the Appalachian Anglers Society, a group that is dedicated to the sport of trout fishing and the formation of strong friendships while enjoying the great outdoors. This venerable organization came into being in 1957 when a group of fly fishing enthusiasts decided to have a fishing competition. The winner would be the member of the group who caught the largest native trout on a fly while fishing in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park and would receive a trophy to be awarded annually.

In addition to the fishing competition, the members also participated in an annual camping trip to relax and enjoy each other’s company.  The outing became known as Camp II. The origin of the name is somewhat a mystery, but the consensus is that many of the members had gone to summer camp as youngsters and were now going to camp once more as big boys. Over the years the trophy eventually was retired, but Camp II has survived and grown. I observed my 30^th birthday on my first Camp II and have been a proud member (and Past President) of the Appalachian Anglers for over 38 years.

Our campout has been held at many different sites along streams known to produce trout in great abundance.  Many of my friends are of the belief that Camp II is a fixed place and my response to that is always “Camp II is a state of mind”. Nevertheless, for more than 30 years Camp II has been held in various campsites in the Cherokee National Forest near Tellico Plains, Tennessee. 

For approximately 20 years McNabb Creek Campground has been the site of Camp II primarily because, as an established large group, we are able to reserve the campground exclusively for the entire five days of our event.  McNabb Creek Campground is adjacent to the stream known as North River and is a short distance from the larger Tellico River. It is always held on the weekend before Mother’s Day because we actually had Camp II on Mother’s Day once and we’ll NEVER make that mistake again. Camp II is open from Wednesday until Sunday and several of the campers actually stay the entire time but, for most, it is a two-day event. The number of campers has varied over the years. At our peak, we had close to 100 campers, but as some of the veterans gave up camping, the number dwindled down to near 30.  In recent years a lot of younger members including the grown children of several Anglers have joined us and the average number of campers is probably around 50. This year the crowd was large. I kicked myself for the years I had missed.

Because I gave away or sold much of my camping equipment when Helen (adorable wife) and I downsized, I haven’t camped out in a long time and have missed several of these outings. Last year I decided to end the streak of years with no Camp II and would go for a day trip to make up for some lost time.  Another reason was to drive into the National Forest along the Tellico River which is one of the most beautiful, scenic, and relaxing trips in the entire world…no exaggeration.  I couldn’t wait to hit the road and when I arrived at the campground it was like a reunion with a long lost love.

This year I loaded Freddie (car) and took off on a Saturday morning. Once I reached the edge of town, I inserted my CD of “An Evening with John Denver”, a tradition I began in the 1980’s when I would take my two sons camping. The music helps to mellow me out. My boys always teased me about it, but before long they were usually singing along with me as John would belt out “Grandma’s Feather Bed”.   

The weather forecast was a little “iffy”, but I wasn’t going to let a threat of rain deter me.  I have always driven down Highway 411 to Madisonville rather than take I-75 because I love seeing the fields and farms and because Madisonville was my mother’s home. Many summers were spent there on my grandparent’s farm tending to horses, cattle, and chickens. I always drive by the old home place…and smile. By a strange coincidence, John is singing “Take Me Home, Country Roads”.

When Madisonville is behind me, I begin looking for a familiar curve in the road because once it is rounded the mountains come into full view.  The scene always gives me a lift and I stopped along the road to take a picture.  Here is that scene.

Tellico Plains, Tennessee is a small town that seems to me a place that time forgot.  I remember many trips here in the 1970’s where the activity level was much higher than it is now.  There were a few taverns, a small grocery, and an old drugstore where we would buy our fishing permits.  Those are long gone, but the old charm still remains.  Personally, I would like to see it a little busier, but not much.  Even though there is a bypass, I always take the old road through the center of town.

From there the road takes you to the entrance of the Cherokee National Forest and follows the Tellico River to the mountains beyond. Again, the beauty of this drive defies description, and it always takes me a while to get to the campsite because of continuous stops along the way to take pictures or enjoy the view from some of the overlooks.  Today there were quite a number of fishermen wading in the stream – a few had a stringer with large fish attached.

By the time Mr. Denver cranks out “Poems, Prayers, and Promises” I am stopping at Bald River Falls to take pictures and take in this magnificent waterfall.  The recent rains had added to the volume on this morning.  There were many visitors with their cameras out including a sizeable motorcycle group out for a ride. Here is a photo of the falls and a few pictures of the scenery along the river.

I arrived at the McNabb Creek Campground for another Camp II experience…my 38^th year as an Appalachian Angler. It was short stay but, as always, an enriching one.  One day in these woods surrounded by like-minded friends is worth a thousand days in a multitude of other endeavors I can think of.  I have listed some of the highlights of this trip below.

• A larger than the usual number of campers this year, including much needed younger members to keep the event going.
• Walking through the campground and shaking hands with a lot of old friends, most of them not seen since last year.
• Richard Gettys firing up his huge grill for the evening’s dinner of steak and lobster.
• A hike to the Civil War era Donley Cabin with some fellow Anglers where we met three campers from Florida and shared some information about the area to give them places to explore.

  

• After saying goodbye to fellow campers, making the drive over to Bald River Gorge and Holly Flats – the best campground in the Eastern United States.
• Riding in Freddie all the way up Waucheesi Mountain to the fire tower at an elevation of 3,692 feet for an unequaled panoramic view of the surrounding peaks and valleys.

  

• Capturing a picture of a brilliant native azalea.
• Making the annual stop at Green Cove to buy provisions for the ride home.  This small grocery in the middle of the mountains is a treasure.
• Driving back along the river one more time for a second chance to view Bald River Falls.

  

• Singing along with Mr. Denver to “Rocky Mountain High” at the top of my lungs…and substituting “Smoky” for “Rocky” in the lyrics.

It was a great day for Easin’ Along.