Things have odd names in Tennessee. At least odd to the Yankee tongue. Pigeon Forge. Metcalf Bottoms. Foggy Bottom.* And creeks and brooks aren't called that, they're called branches. Sure, on a map they do sorta look like branches but when you're standing in the water it looks like a creek or brook. They should call stuff by what it looks like when you're standing in it. I don't stand on maps, much.
|The rain assaulting Marc on some branch.|
We ended the evening in Cades Cove and I picked up a bunch of wild trout in places that looked too skinny to hold em. Marc cleaned up but then one expects the homewater's host to at least demonstrate that the trout are there.
|Standard Cades Wild Rainbow|
No review of Cades Cove would be complete without describing the drive around this Yosemite of the Smokies. According to the National Park website, Cades Cove features an:
"...11-mile, one-way loop road circles the cove, offering motorists the opportunity to sightsee at a leisurely pace."They should boldface and underline "at a leisurely pace". And god forbid a friggin' deer should walk out of the woods. The one-way loop road becomes a parking lot with people ogling the white tailed rat. Black bear?! Well, if a bear appears you should just pull off, sling you gear on your shoulder and walk out. You're screwed. Some folks actually walked by us while we were sitting in traffic pining for beer.
We were off the water at twilight and a malted beverage, a cigar and good conversation capped the day. While good catching makes a fishing trip enjoyable, there's something to be said for good company. Many a poor day of fishing has been rescued with a cigar and a beer and bullshitting while waiting for a hatch or a storm to pass. It turns out our evening ended with as much rain as it began with which somehow seemed appropriate.
So much rain in the mountains and the rivers were fine. Could it last?
* I made that up.
** I can see Rick and the gang dodging zombies and The Governor's henchmen all through these hills.