I had a little extra time on my hands Monday, and decided to take a short run/hike at Turkey Mountain. My journey had three objectives.
1. To scope out some new trails for the Barkley Book Fair night run, IF I should decide to have it at Turkey Mountain again this year.
2. To take up the remaining pictures on an old disposable camera so I can get it developed. Might be some good pics on it although I thought it was at least a couple of years old.
3. To see if I could find and photograph a petroglyth that is somewhere on the east facing bluffs.
This carving dates back several centuries, and I have yet to find it, although I have been all over the eastern edge of the mountain.
So, with a couple of hours to spare, my disposable camera, my Olympus, my Garmin, no phone, and no water bottle, I took off for a 3-4 mile adventure. The lower trail was fun as always, a couple of fallen trees here and there, soft trails, not too muddy. I made it to the end where the trail heads STRAIGHT up to the Ho-chi, and I veered on northward, where a trail that is seldom used was actually in pretty good shape for about 100 meters or so. Then, the trail disappeared.... a couple years of non-use since the Barkley Book Fair two years ago had allowed the trail to vanish. Mud slides, fallen trees, overgrowth, and a continuous wall of vines had closed the trail, but I still managed to wade my way through, kind of sort of following the trail that I primitively cut 2 years ago. Up and down, along the edge of the bluffs I made my way, and at a snails pace. Finally I made it to the first of the semi-caves, where someone had carved BAD DOG in the rocks, maybe 40-60 years ago, depending on what lore you wanted to take as gospel.
At this point, I had burned a little more than half my time as I had an appointment to tend to, and was going to have to cut my run short by either going up the mountain and run back on the Ho-chi, or hack my way downward to the railroad tracks and head back that way. I sat down to take the rocks/twigs out of my shoe, and was marveling at how my Plantar's Fasciitis had not hurt at all. Something about nice soft dirt and every step being different....a good thing. While tying my shoe, I heard a racket and noticed a crow had landed about 10-15 feet away in a tree. I took out the old Kodak disposable and snapped a pic. The flash did not go off....I thought it automatically did, and I wondered if the camera was even working so I took out my Olympus and zoomed in a little for a better pic.
Just as the flash went off, someone put a hand on my shoulder, and although it scared the crap out of me, I did not scream like a girl, but turned to face an old bearded man. Instinctively, being the paparazzi I am, I took a quick picture not even thinking that it might be offensive to him.
Probably if the flash had went off, I would have blinded him.... good thing it did not, as he was actually a cool, albeit mysterious man. He asked who I was, what I was doing, was I lost. I told him I was T Z (not really sure I wanted to tell him my real name.) He had a strange accent, sort of a cross between a hillbilly and an Irishman. His name was Eldridge.
"Wuda ya dunn back up in here?"
"Oh, hiking, looking for carvings. I've found this one, (referring to the BAD DOG carving) but I knew it was here," I said.
"Yah, I pit that one thar sevral yars back. Yist ta be mah nam when I went ta town."
So this guy claims to be the person who carved BAD DOG in the rocks. Hmmm.... I continued on my conversation, not really knowing for sure if this guy was friendly, and I figured if I could keep him talking maybe things would be alright. I did notice he had a darned big knife on his belt....kind of like the one Crocodile Dundee carried. I made a blabbering about the cave where we were, which is actually more of a crevice in the rocks. "My trail running club had a run, sort of an adventure race which came right through this way and into this cave a few years ago."
"Aw, thut's not much of a cav. There's a lot more cavs in these hills ef ya knows whur to look for em."
"I have heard there was a pretty good sized cave here years ago. My neighbor, who is in his 70s, was telling me about years ago a couple of kids were in the caves and never found there way out. He told me the city or county or someone dynamited the entrance after that so no one else would ever go in....sort of a safety thing."
He just sat there, and did not respond. I continued, "I never really knew if he was a pulling my leg. I have done some research on the internet, and never found a thing about it, and I wondered."
"Ond ya never will. They dunn a gad joba coverin it all up, ifa ya catch my meanin."
"What do you mean?"
"They never spent mich tam alookin. Kids were in there a coupla das and they blew the whole sad of tha hill ta pieces. Un they wernt rilly kids either, 15 and 17 year olds usta git married beck then all tha tam. Course, tha fect that the girl was expectin maughta had somthin ta do with tha metter. Yall never rid that in the news. They never said anythin about the dynamat, but called it a tremor, an earth quik."
"So they did not know for sure the kids were dead?"
"Hell no, the kids wunt dead. The never med it out alive, but they med it out."
"What happened then? Did heads roll?" He looked at me, and I caught it that he did not follow "heads rolling," so I re-asked, "Was there an investigation or anything?"
"Nah, it jist went away. Hey, come ere with me. I wanna sha ya somethin."
I followed him into the cave which is really just a crack between rocks. He went to the back, and pulled a huge but fairly flat rock back that was leaning against the back wall, and let if fall to the floor. A surprise to me....there was another crevice that went on further into the mountain. He took an old beat up metal flashlight from his pocket that put out a dim light like only worn out Ray-O-Vacs can, and into the opening he went with me following cautiously behind. The crevice opened up a little wider, then narrowed down and the ceiling came right down to 3 feet high, 2 feet high, and then even a little lower. I am starting to become a little claustrophobic at this point, but he keeps on going, deeper into the cave if you can call it a cave. I am pretty sure this guy will never read this....doubt if he is an internet dude, so it is safe to say that he reeked. Following him just about gagged me, but 30 feet or so into this cave, there was nothing to do but follow. I decided to take a picture or two, and snapped away.
Ya bitter nut shoot thut thin too mich. Ya maught see some thins ya maught nut wunna see."
Ok, I am thinking snakes, spiders. OMG, what have I got my self into? And what time is it? I have to be at an appointment in less than an hour. Where the heck does this go??
It seemed like we wallowed through a long passage for about 30 minutes, but finally I could see a light that was more than what his sorry flashlight was producing. Sure enough, there was "light at the end of the tunnel." (Pun appreciated at this point.) I got out, and up on my feet, covered from head to toe with mud and dirt.
"Hair's whur that cav went. Tik me a few years to carve a way back into it."
"Where ARE we?" I asked. This was no place I had ever seen on Turkey Mountain, and I know ALL of the mountain and maybe better than anyone who runs or rides there, and I was flabbergasted.
"Ahm nut really sure mahself, ya know. Never bin able to figure it out. Kim over here. Ah wanna show ya somthin." I follow. My appointment will have to wait. I figure I can call and toss out some sort of excuse. We walked maybe a quarter mile across a grassy field to a large oak tree.
Three graves were below the tree.
"This is whur they ended up, Richard and Annabelle."
" The kids who got lost? This is their graves? Who buried them?" I asked. Geeze, what a story I am thinking.
"Ah did. Richard was my brother. We both hada shinin for Annabelle, but she was ahways sweet on him. He was older, and I was a year younga than she was. Sims I never held a candle to ma brother. I knew they war in here when they blew that openin. At that tam, we didn't know about this place over here. Used to be able ta see a little laught, but it was to taught to git through. Turns out, Richard almost dug his way out but died about 10 fit from the openin. Little Annabelle and Richard wuz maybe 10 fit from gettin out. I dug through them rocks for 3 years before I got to em, and gav em a decent burial."
"Wow," not one of my more intelligent comments, but I was speechless.
We spent maybe 5 minutes standing in reverence over the graves. I began to look around at my surroundings, still in awe of this place and wondering where in the heck this was. He noticed me looking around, and broke the silence.
"We had better get goin," he said, and remembering my responsibilities, I agreed, but silently vowed to myself to re-visit this fascinating place again.
We re-entered the cave, and I hoped the return trip would go a little faster. It did not. Fatigue had set in, and my left foot with the PF was giving me fits, as much of the tight passages needed powerful toe pushes to get me through. About 10 minutes in, my mid section became wedged into a passage that was a little too narrow for me to get through. To my embarrassment, I had to call out to Eldridge for a little help. I was breathing heavily, and trying not to panic. Damn, I made it through one way, why could I not make it back?
"Here, gamme yer arm." He grabbed my arm, and I was amazed at the strength of his grip. It seemed like he was gonna rip my arm right off, plus this dude had not cut his fingernails in years or so it seemed. He drug me about 2 feet and it was passable from there. I ended up with a pretty nasty looking gash on my forearm, but I did make it out.
I helped him lift up the huge rock back over the opening that covered this passage. I then made a mistake. I took out my camera, fortunately the disposable one, and took a couple more shots. This somehow offended him, and I noticed he had taken a few steps back and had taken out his huge 10 inch knife. It was an old worn knife, and either rusty, or blood stained???
"Ahm gonna havta isk ya for that camera. Dint want a bincha people comin around up here ya know."
Chicken sh!t that I am, I handed over the camera (the disposable one) and said I understood. I quickly thanked him, said it was nice meeting him, yada yada, and hurried on my way. I felt quite relieved to get away, and I am puzzled over his asking for my camera. Was this cave something sacred to him? Probably so. Would he have used more force to take my camera if I had resisted? I did not want to find out.
I do plan to go back, but I am not sure if I wanna meet Eldridge again. He seemed like an interesting guy, and could probably tell a lot of great stories, but I have to say, I was a little unnerved by the camera thing....and not sure if the knife was meant as a threat or what? At least I managed to keep my Olympus! I really doubt that Eldridge is internet savvy, so reporting all this is probably safe. I did make my way to the railroad tracks, and ran like the wind (well, a slow wind) and made it to my appointment only an hour late, with not much more than a scratched up arm to show for it.
Ok, so here's where it gets off-the-charts weird. After my appointment, I could not stand it. I headed back to the cave and ran hard to get there before dark. With my headlamp, and rope in hand, I entered the crevice and went to the back where the passage was. In the back of the cave, I could see the imprint on the ground where the big rock fell. But there is not a rock laying up against the back of the cave at all! This rock that served as a door or covering is now just part of the wall, like there was never an opening at all!! After standing and scouring the crevice for a clue as to what happened, I gave it up and headed home. Somehow, being here after dark alone after what had happened today was freaking me out.
I am not through with this. I will be back.
1. To scope out some new trails for the Barkley Book Fair night run, IF I should decide to have it at Turkey Mountain again this year.
2. To take up the remaining pictures on an old disposable camera so I can get it developed. Might be some good pics on it although I thought it was at least a couple of years old.
3. To see if I could find and photograph a petroglyth that is somewhere on the east facing bluffs.
This carving dates back several centuries, and I have yet to find it, although I have been all over the eastern edge of the mountain.So, with a couple of hours to spare, my disposable camera, my Olympus, my Garmin, no phone, and no water bottle, I took off for a 3-4 mile adventure. The lower trail was fun as always, a couple of fallen trees here and there, soft trails, not too muddy. I made it to the end where the trail heads STRAIGHT up to the Ho-chi, and I veered on northward, where a trail that is seldom used was actually in pretty good shape for about 100 meters or so. Then, the trail disappeared.... a couple years of non-use since the Barkley Book Fair two years ago had allowed the trail to vanish. Mud slides, fallen trees, overgrowth, and a continuous wall of vines had closed the trail, but I still managed to wade my way through, kind of sort of following the trail that I primitively cut 2 years ago. Up and down, along the edge of the bluffs I made my way, and at a snails pace. Finally I made it to the first of the semi-caves, where someone had carved BAD DOG in the rocks, maybe 40-60 years ago, depending on what lore you wanted to take as gospel.
At this point, I had burned a little more than half my time as I had an appointment to tend to, and was going to have to cut my run short by either going up the mountain and run back on the Ho-chi, or hack my way downward to the railroad tracks and head back that way. I sat down to take the rocks/twigs out of my shoe, and was marveling at how my Plantar's Fasciitis had not hurt at all. Something about nice soft dirt and every step being different....a good thing. While tying my shoe, I heard a racket and noticed a crow had landed about 10-15 feet away in a tree. I took out the old Kodak disposable and snapped a pic. The flash did not go off....I thought it automatically did, and I wondered if the camera was even working so I took out my Olympus and zoomed in a little for a better pic.
Just as the flash went off, someone put a hand on my shoulder, and although it scared the crap out of me, I did not scream like a girl, but turned to face an old bearded man. Instinctively, being the paparazzi I am, I took a quick picture not even thinking that it might be offensive to him.
Probably if the flash had went off, I would have blinded him.... good thing it did not, as he was actually a cool, albeit mysterious man. He asked who I was, what I was doing, was I lost. I told him I was T Z (not really sure I wanted to tell him my real name.) He had a strange accent, sort of a cross between a hillbilly and an Irishman. His name was Eldridge."Wuda ya dunn back up in here?"
"Oh, hiking, looking for carvings. I've found this one, (referring to the BAD DOG carving) but I knew it was here," I said.
"Yah, I pit that one thar sevral yars back. Yist ta be mah nam when I went ta town."
So this guy claims to be the person who carved BAD DOG in the rocks. Hmmm.... I continued on my conversation, not really knowing for sure if this guy was friendly, and I figured if I could keep him talking maybe things would be alright. I did notice he had a darned big knife on his belt....kind of like the one Crocodile Dundee carried. I made a blabbering about the cave where we were, which is actually more of a crevice in the rocks. "My trail running club had a run, sort of an adventure race which came right through this way and into this cave a few years ago."
"Aw, thut's not much of a cav. There's a lot more cavs in these hills ef ya knows whur to look for em."
"I have heard there was a pretty good sized cave here years ago. My neighbor, who is in his 70s, was telling me about years ago a couple of kids were in the caves and never found there way out. He told me the city or county or someone dynamited the entrance after that so no one else would ever go in....sort of a safety thing."
He just sat there, and did not respond. I continued, "I never really knew if he was a pulling my leg. I have done some research on the internet, and never found a thing about it, and I wondered."
"Ond ya never will. They dunn a gad joba coverin it all up, ifa ya catch my meanin."
"What do you mean?"
"They never spent mich tam alookin. Kids were in there a coupla das and they blew the whole sad of tha hill ta pieces. Un they wernt rilly kids either, 15 and 17 year olds usta git married beck then all tha tam. Course, tha fect that the girl was expectin maughta had somthin ta do with tha metter. Yall never rid that in the news. They never said anythin about the dynamat, but called it a tremor, an earth quik."
"So they did not know for sure the kids were dead?"
"Hell no, the kids wunt dead. The never med it out alive, but they med it out."
"What happened then? Did heads roll?" He looked at me, and I caught it that he did not follow "heads rolling," so I re-asked, "Was there an investigation or anything?"
"Nah, it jist went away. Hey, come ere with me. I wanna sha ya somethin."
I followed him into the cave which is really just a crack between rocks. He went to the back, and pulled a huge but fairly flat rock back that was leaning against the back wall, and let if fall to the floor. A surprise to me....there was another crevice that went on further into the mountain. He took an old beat up metal flashlight from his pocket that put out a dim light like only worn out Ray-O-Vacs can, and into the opening he went with me following cautiously behind. The crevice opened up a little wider, then narrowed down and the ceiling came right down to 3 feet high, 2 feet high, and then even a little lower. I am starting to become a little claustrophobic at this point, but he keeps on going, deeper into the cave if you can call it a cave. I am pretty sure this guy will never read this....doubt if he is an internet dude, so it is safe to say that he reeked. Following him just about gagged me, but 30 feet or so into this cave, there was nothing to do but follow. I decided to take a picture or two, and snapped away.
Ya bitter nut shoot thut thin too mich. Ya maught see some thins ya maught nut wunna see."Ok, I am thinking snakes, spiders. OMG, what have I got my self into? And what time is it? I have to be at an appointment in less than an hour. Where the heck does this go??
It seemed like we wallowed through a long passage for about 30 minutes, but finally I could see a light that was more than what his sorry flashlight was producing. Sure enough, there was "light at the end of the tunnel." (Pun appreciated at this point.) I got out, and up on my feet, covered from head to toe with mud and dirt.
"Hair's whur that cav went. Tik me a few years to carve a way back into it."
"Where ARE we?" I asked. This was no place I had ever seen on Turkey Mountain, and I know ALL of the mountain and maybe better than anyone who runs or rides there, and I was flabbergasted.
"Ahm nut really sure mahself, ya know. Never bin able to figure it out. Kim over here. Ah wanna show ya somthin." I follow. My appointment will have to wait. I figure I can call and toss out some sort of excuse. We walked maybe a quarter mile across a grassy field to a large oak tree.
Three graves were below the tree."This is whur they ended up, Richard and Annabelle."
" The kids who got lost? This is their graves? Who buried them?" I asked. Geeze, what a story I am thinking.
"Ah did. Richard was my brother. We both hada shinin for Annabelle, but she was ahways sweet on him. He was older, and I was a year younga than she was. Sims I never held a candle to ma brother. I knew they war in here when they blew that openin. At that tam, we didn't know about this place over here. Used to be able ta see a little laught, but it was to taught to git through. Turns out, Richard almost dug his way out but died about 10 fit from the openin. Little Annabelle and Richard wuz maybe 10 fit from gettin out. I dug through them rocks for 3 years before I got to em, and gav em a decent burial."
"Wow," not one of my more intelligent comments, but I was speechless.
We spent maybe 5 minutes standing in reverence over the graves. I began to look around at my surroundings, still in awe of this place and wondering where in the heck this was. He noticed me looking around, and broke the silence.
"We had better get goin," he said, and remembering my responsibilities, I agreed, but silently vowed to myself to re-visit this fascinating place again.
We re-entered the cave, and I hoped the return trip would go a little faster. It did not. Fatigue had set in, and my left foot with the PF was giving me fits, as much of the tight passages needed powerful toe pushes to get me through. About 10 minutes in, my mid section became wedged into a passage that was a little too narrow for me to get through. To my embarrassment, I had to call out to Eldridge for a little help. I was breathing heavily, and trying not to panic. Damn, I made it through one way, why could I not make it back?
"Here, gamme yer arm." He grabbed my arm, and I was amazed at the strength of his grip. It seemed like he was gonna rip my arm right off, plus this dude had not cut his fingernails in years or so it seemed. He drug me about 2 feet and it was passable from there. I ended up with a pretty nasty looking gash on my forearm, but I did make it out.
I helped him lift up the huge rock back over the opening that covered this passage. I then made a mistake. I took out my camera, fortunately the disposable one, and took a couple more shots. This somehow offended him, and I noticed he had taken a few steps back and had taken out his huge 10 inch knife. It was an old worn knife, and either rusty, or blood stained???
"Ahm gonna havta isk ya for that camera. Dint want a bincha people comin around up here ya know."
Chicken sh!t that I am, I handed over the camera (the disposable one) and said I understood. I quickly thanked him, said it was nice meeting him, yada yada, and hurried on my way. I felt quite relieved to get away, and I am puzzled over his asking for my camera. Was this cave something sacred to him? Probably so. Would he have used more force to take my camera if I had resisted? I did not want to find out.
I do plan to go back, but I am not sure if I wanna meet Eldridge again. He seemed like an interesting guy, and could probably tell a lot of great stories, but I have to say, I was a little unnerved by the camera thing....and not sure if the knife was meant as a threat or what? At least I managed to keep my Olympus! I really doubt that Eldridge is internet savvy, so reporting all this is probably safe. I did make my way to the railroad tracks, and ran like the wind (well, a slow wind) and made it to my appointment only an hour late, with not much more than a scratched up arm to show for it.
Ok, so here's where it gets off-the-charts weird. After my appointment, I could not stand it. I headed back to the cave and ran hard to get there before dark. With my headlamp, and rope in hand, I entered the crevice and went to the back where the passage was. In the back of the cave, I could see the imprint on the ground where the big rock fell. But there is not a rock laying up against the back of the cave at all! This rock that served as a door or covering is now just part of the wall, like there was never an opening at all!! After standing and scouring the crevice for a clue as to what happened, I gave it up and headed home. Somehow, being here after dark alone after what had happened today was freaking me out.
I am not through with this. I will be back.
