A Scary Thing Happened On The Way To Rock City

It was a day like any other day except I was stuffed in a camp bed too short for my six foot frame. The gentle rocking of the camper indicated that Woody Pop and Poolman were beginning to stir so I jumped up, got dressed, and went outside to survey the weather. For we were planning an all day motorcycle ride to Rock City and other interesting sites along the way.

As I wiped the dew from my Shadow Woody Pop said: "Get in here before your breakfast gets cold". As we ate we discussed the plans of attack for the trip. Since I was the local resident to the area I was chosen to take the lead of the expedition. Apparently they forgot about my getting us lost several times the day before and almost getting shot by some bird hunters (for scaring off the birds).

The bikes were prepared and the camper secured so we thundered out of the campsite. I with my Shadow in the lead and Poolman and Woody Pop on their Star behind. Down the road we thundered until we passed the nearest community with the Star in close persute. Later down the road I noticed the Star getting farther and farther behind. As I crested a hill and rode down the other side I slowed, and slowed, then stopped and waited. The Star never appeared.

I thought not again. For the last time I ran off from Poolman he had to take a 10-100 in the woods like a bear. I turned around and upon topping the hill I saw Poolman on the Star in the ditch with Woody Pop standing alongside.

The Star had picked up a nail and had thrown the rear tire which had landed them in the ditch. Fortunately everyone was unhurt even the Star. I whipped out my cell phone (Poolman and Woody Pop left theirs at the camper) and called for roadside service. Two hours and many duckies later the service truck whisked the Star away for reshodding. Woody Pop and I rode the Shadow back to the campsite to get the truck to rescue Poolman who was left with the Star.

Since the day was well spent and our plans were extensive it was decided to start the trip over the next day in the truck. Onward we rode in the truck back towards the campsite when we saw a trail marker that said "Waterfall Trail". Being avid hikers we decided to take this trail to the waterfall.

We disembarked the truck and proceeded to the trail head where we met a lady who accounted the tale of fleeing from "Ivan the Terrible" to the south. We wished her well and entered the trail. Not far along our path Woody Pop said: "WOOOO!!! I see a snake". There on the edge of the path was a snake a big snake which had just eaten something very large judging by the size of the bump in its middle. Its head was up looking at us and ready to strike anything in its range.

Not wanting to pass too close to the snake I threw a small stick on it to scare it off to no avail. Poolman threw a big stick on it but it just kept looking at us. Not to be defeated by this serpent I found a long slender stick with the intention of moving the snake into the brush. As I maneuvered the large stick from on top of the snake it lurched and slithered into the brush with a distinctive rattling sound. That is when we realized it was a rattle snake of about four feet in length and a very dangerous creature.

Onward we trudged on the trail to the falls. Onward to the other end of the trail but where was the falls? Making our way back we noticed a formation where a waterfall could have been if there had been any water available. We laughed about missing the falls during our last trip past that area. But then again we did expected to see water.

As we proceeded down the path we heard a curious sound: "Moooseeeee". A sound like we had never heard before. Woody Pop said "That sounds like a moose call". I said: "There aren't and moose in these woods". There it went again several times right over there in the distance. Woody Pop said: "Lets get out of here".

It was such a peculiar sound that I thought that it could be a wounded hiker so I called out several times for a response. Each time there was only silence. As we started back down the trail it "moooseeee" again and again until we arrived at the end of the trail.

We jumped into the truck and returned to the campsite. Since then I have talked to many hunters and hikers in this area and no one can explain what made the strange sound. No one had ever heard anything like it in this area before.

Thus ends our strange adventure. Skirting disaster two times and perhaps three in a single day. Such is the tale of another strange but true adventure of the TomKat.