We left our
camp, at mile 763, looking for spot to stop. The river was large here, but the wind was gentle and we had
pretty easy going. There was one
turn around 757 that was tight to the right and resulted in rough water where
the river was choked up. We
stopped briefly to let a couple of barges by, then shot through as quick as we
could. After we got through the
chop, another barge camp by headed north.
The turn was tight enough that we would have been trapped on either side
of the river if our timing hadn’t been on and we got caught next to a barge.
After
that we made our way a couple of miles to the Shelby Forest boat ramp, figuring
there would be some water supply and possibly a ride to town for food. Turned out the ramp was almost five
miles from the main visitors center and almost seven to the nearest ‘town’- it
was as much a town as Kewadin is.
Luckily, as we wandered down the road back to the canoe, water jugs and
dog in hand, a guy spotted us in his pickup and offered to drive us to his
house to fill up water. It was
beautiful drive up through the Tennessee hills and the guy was friendly. After we got our water, he drove us
into the little town to a convenience store where we could at least get a few
basics, cereal, peanut butter, eggs, etc.
Our
new friend, Duane, drove us back down to the ramp and we chatted a while. He couldn’t seem to understand why
people attempted trips like this.
Apparently we were not the first paddlers he had helped out. He gave us some advice for our upcoming
journey through Memphis and we were off.
While we were away, a huge barge had come up and moored right by the
landing, to take on a crew member. The barge had stopped just yards from the
canoe and while we loaded up we had a good perspective to see just how huge
they really are compared to an 18’ canoe.
After he pulled away we hopped back in.
Our goal was to get as close to Memphis as possible before making
camp. We had gotten enough food to
get by a day or two, but would still have to stop in Memphis for a long-term
resupply. We stopped at 743, after
just 20 miles on a pretty lagoon tucked between two dikes. The view of the sunset was beautiful
and we could just make out the Memphis skyline in the distance. It took some time to gather enough
wood, but all around the camp was one of the best. We talked into the night and were excited for our foray into
town. And then the dog came
barreling out of the brush, stinking.
She didn’t smell like skunk, not quite. But that’s not to say she smelled good. As soon as we caught a whiff, we called
her over, hoping to keep her away from whatever smelled so terrible. Too late. She came over slobbering uncontrollably, white foam pouring
from her mouth. Aaron took off her
now pungent lifejacket and wiped her mouth out as best he could, pouring water
down her throat. We wiped down her
face, but she broke away and rolled frantically in the sand whenever she
could. Eventually she calmed down
a bit and we were able to get her to drink water and figure out that she was
ok, if rancid. That night the
stench in the tent was almost unbearable, but we couldn’t leave her outside for
the cold and whatever critter smelled so bad. We figure she stuck her nose down some burrow and its
inhabitants didn’t want a 70 lb dog for company.
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