I went on a river trip over winter break. The idea was to get some time in hunting up some winter trout in the Caney Fork river. When we got to the river we found it very high. At the dam they were running the sluice gates for flood control and two generators producing electricity for the TVA. The water was fast and we were out of our element. Our expectations remained high because another fisherman near us was catching all kinds of fish and several of them were huge. We studied what he did and then did it. It wasn't for lack of trying. After three days and about 14 hours on the water I went to the car and got the camera.
« December 2011 | Main | March 2012 »
January 2012
January 05, 2012
dispatches from the road
I went on a river trip over winter break. The idea was to get some time in hunting up some winter trout in the Caney Fork river. When we got to the river we found it very high. At the dam they were running the sluice gates for flood control and two generators producing electricity for the TVA. The water was fast and we were out of our element. Our expectations remained high because another fisherman near us was catching all kinds of fish and several of them were huge. We studied what he did and then did it. It wasn't for lack of trying. After three days and about 14 hours on the water I went to the car and got the camera.
shaking the camera on the caney fork river
The river was up in the trees. The fish weren't biting. Time for photography. Photography and fishing are darn near the same thing. They're both the act of fishing. Shaking your camera is like taking a blind cast.
Granville Tn.
Driving the backroads looking for another access point on the Caney Fork river I stumbled on to the little town of Granville Tn. It was quiet during the day except for the man on the ladder who was removing the Christmas wreaths from the street lights. It's a interesting little place tucked right up to Cordell Hull lake. It was an odd exercise shooting a place that wasn't abandoned. I seldom ever stop on the rode to visit an inhabited place. Still, after I looked at what I shot I still felt that feeling and heard that man on the ladder, alone.
More in the dispatches from the road folder.