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The Great Hatchie Canoe Expedition -
Day 10: Jaws
Author: Monica Clutch
Date: April 7, 2008
Location: just north of Covington, TN
Photo © Monica Clutch/TNC
Previous entries in the blog
This was one of those days I thoroughly enjoyed from start to finish. Well, almost thoroughly. More about that in a moment.
It was a gorgeous spring day for exploring the Hatchie River. We were nearing the end of our journey; this would be our second to last day of the trip. We would canoe from the Highway 51 bridge just north of Covington, Tennessee, to a take-out on Peters Road in Tipton County, ending up 17 miles from the Mississippi River —our destination on the final leg of our Hatchie Expedition.
With an exceptionally rainy spring, the Hatchie River was swollen out of its banks. This actually made reaching the take-out much easier than normal. Rather than having to portage the canoes across farm fields that border the river, we were able instead to simply paddle across the flooded fields that extended for acres. As it turned out, though, dropping the pickup vehicle at the take-out was a bit more eventful than should have been the case, all because of a little fluffy white dog.
Close Encounters of the Annoying Kind
Not knowing whether all of Peters Road was public roadway (it was) or a private drive, I stopped at the last house along the road to ask the landowner permission to proceed. The minute I laid eyes on the barking white ball of fur, red flags went up for me. Years ago I had worked for a veterinarian in Memphis. I learned then that little, pampered dogs with names like Sugar Pie and Smoochy were usually more dangerous than the large, slobbering dogs named Fang or Godzilla.
I eased up on the porch and knocked on the door, keeping a wary eye on the growling dog. No one answered, so I walked back to the truck. The little dog was right behind me, growling. She wasn’t brave enough to bite me while I was looking at her, but now that I appeared to be in retreat her level of aggression increased.
Just as I was almost to the truck, the homeowner appeared at the door. That was just enough to send Fluffy over the edge: her mistress seemed to be under attack. The little dog snapped fiercely and managed to get some teeth onto my calf muscle. Fortunately for me, she did not penetrate my skin, though she did leave some bruises.
Grumbling, I turned and went back to the house to get the information I needed, the dog shadowing my every step in a very unfriendly way. Having found out what I needed to know, I headed back toward the truck. This time, the dog’s aggression was more pronounced: her mistress, shouting at her from the porch, must have seemed to need further protection. So I took a threatening step toward the dog, telling it that I intended to use it as a furry kickball if it tried to bite me again. The dog made one last effort at intimidation before strutting dutifully back to her guard post on the porch. Thus ended the only hitch in what was otherwise a wonderful day on the river.
Look at the difference between the water levels on the left and right sides of this depth marker at the Highway 51 bridge. The water was ripping that day! Photo © Monica Clutch/TNC
Fish in Abundance
For the first time since we began the Hatchie Expedition back in December, we saw large numbers of fish. In the rushing backwaters of the Highway 51 bridge, giant carp surfaced. There were several boats and bank fishermen in the vicinity, and I wondered if these large fish were their target. As we canoed down the river, we saw not only a buffalo (the fish) and a catfish but also several large gar that surfaced, one seemingly interested in my paddle. Bass jumped periodically here and there in the river. We also saw many basking turtles, predominantly sliders, though I saw a nice softshell floating near the canoe for a few moments before he sank beneath the murky water. At the end of our canoe trip, we observed chain pickerel lurking in the shallows of the submerged cornfield near our take-out. We also finally got to see a snake, the first of our trip. A banded water snake lay coiled on some branches just above the surface of the water, warming itself in preparation for springtime activity.
One of the many abandoned basketballs we saw on the river.
Photo © Monica Clutch/TNC
At the start of the trip, I had joked with Mike that, due to the high water conditions that flooded fields and made the Hatchie more lake-like than river-like in some locations, we might get lost and end up far from the river. In fact, we had to check the GPS more than once on this day to make sure we were actually still on the river and not heading off into an oxbow lake. We had several opportunities to shorten our trip by taking a short route through a cut-off, but honor prevailed: if we wanted to be able to say we had canoed the entire river, then cheating was out of the question.
Dealing with headwinds and occasional backflow of water required extra paddling effort, and Mike and I were both fatigued by the end of the journey. We got the canoes quickly onto the top of the Jeep, our canoe-fastening skills much improved with practice.
Our take-out point at Peters Road: a flooded field. Photo © Monica Clutch/TNC
On our way out my little nemesis made one last stand, imprudently chasing the Jeep as we drove off. Despite having been bitten by the fluffy little beast and despite knowing that we would be returning to this location for the next leg of our journey, we slowed to spare it, of course. I just hoped we wouldn’t have to contend with our little friend again during the put-in for Day 11, the final day of our Hatchie Expedition.
On to Day 11…
