I wanted to get in a pretty Spring wildflower hike on a nice, sunny day. I suggested Burgan Creek Falls since it should have some wildflowers. It was only 1.8 miles round trip. I figured that ought to be plenty manageable even with my tired old knees. Kenny has been pretty stern reminding me not to overdo it. I know when he is serious and when not to trifle with him. This was one of those times when he meant business. He agreed upon it and we set out on Saturday late morning.
We pulled into Tapoco around 11:45 a.m. He wanted to go have lunch at the tavern prior to hiking.
He did not have to persuade me. We had the good fortune to be there on another water release day! The Cheoah River was roaring after last nights rain and the water release! We drove Hwy 129 over... the Tail of the Dragon. Traffic wasn't bad, but the road was still slick and wet.
We decided to sit indoors since it was airish. We were treated to the beautiful Saint Patrick's Day decorations they'd put out. It was lovely! Kenny had a beer, but I do not drink alcohol so I had a sweet tea with lemon. I call it the house wine of the South. We ordered a meat lovers pizza. It is so yummy! I'd say it is the best pizza ever. Freshly made and piping hot.
They had some of the prettiest Easter flowers popping up. The planters outside were full of boxwoods and pansies. I wasn't going to plant flowers this Spring, but that has changed my mind.
Below: Looking at the bar and there is a door way to additional seating beyond it.
Below: Meat Lovers Pizza has arrived
Below: The gift shop and lobby of the lodge.
Below: beautiful daffodils out at the entrance to the lodge.
At the beginning of this blog entry is a link to a piece written by Marshall McClung. He grew up back in the Atoah Creek community near Burgan Creek Falls. He wrote about the way things were way back when! He is a well respected, very interesting historian. He is also a retired forester, SAR person, and an author. I plan to order some of his books. Mountain People. Mountain Places.
Once we got a bite of lunch we rolled out toward Atoah Gap to hike to the falls. I was using my own directions as a test to see how they held up. They were spot on! The drive out to the trailhead is beautiful in Spring especially. Redbud trees, sarvis berry, cherry blossoms, peach trees in bloom, daffodils in people's yards. The grass is greening up. The skies today were blue and pretty.
The scenery out in the backroads of Graham County is hard to beat. We found our parking spot with no trouble. Today we began and ended our hike to the sound of thunderous gun fire! The Atoah Shooting Range is within sight of the spot where we parked though on the opposite side of the road.
I knew the hike would be up and up to start with. I struggled through it, but at last made it to the gap at the top. I carefully started down the slope toward Burgan Creek. It is worth mentioning that the former stream crossing is no more. Flood damage has messed it up. Marshall and Hoot moved the crossing upstream and it is way better. You ford the stream on a nice flat log like a bridge! You don't have to get your feet wet at all.
Once across the stream we were in a rhodo tunnel. Today we did less back and forth across the stream than in the past. You cross a creek exactly three times one way. Two of the creek crossings are fairly shallow rock hops. I did not get my feet wet all day.
I had to really take my time. The hike to the falls is mostly uphill. There were wildflowers blooming, but not a lot. Loads of hepaticas in bloom in shades of white, lavender, blue, and pink.
I saw yellow violets and dwarf cinquefoil. I also saw a few dutchman's britches just getting started. Trilliums were up and in bud, but no blooms yet.
The forest has some large trees! It is very open and easy to see which way you need to go. It is flagged the entire way. Our final approach to the base of the falls was from the left bank heading upstream. About the time I was really tired the falls came into view! It was all worth it then.
It was gushing today. It was the most water we've seen on it in all our trips. Conditions were not great for photography with the sun shining down into my face and my lens.
I had to get creative and use a tree to shield me from the sun to get a decent shot of the falls.
Below: The beautiful Burgan Creek Falls sits in the head of a hollow.
Below: a different angle using the tree as a shield
Below: First Dutchmans Britches of this Spring. They looked like they had been frost nipped.
Below: Slope covered in white polka dots from hepaticas
Below: closer view of the hepaticas
Below: a mossy field of large rocks. I can't say boulder field for they are not that large.
Below: a shot of the full falls up close
Below: pink hepaticas
Below: Looking up into the bare trees. Some tall, tall timber. Lots of buckeye and poplar.
Below: My big tall muscular fool of a husband. 💓💪😘 You can see how nice and flat and open the trail is here!
Above: a pretty spot along the hike with moss all over the tree trunks.
Below: a close up shot of a mossy log near the falls.
We enjoyed the falls and stuck around awhile. It was wonderful to be out today. The exertion of getting there had me shaking all over like I had low blood sugar a couple times. My back is doing much of the compensating for the lack of shock absorbers in my knees. Unless you have ever lived through this it is impossible to imagine how bad it feels. We began a slow trudge back toward the trailhead and the jeep. It was a little easier since it was mostly downhill. Uphill has been easier for me in some ways, but today it was all tough. I stopped many times on the hike out to prevent myself from going sprawling forward. Thank goodness for my sweet husband and for my trekking poles.
I sat down at one point and cried for about 15 seconds then felt foolish and got up and going again.
Back at the jeep I was feeling very sorry for myself, but still glad I was able to do it. It is still better than sitting around at home. I was so wrung out from the ordeal, and a little bummed out.
About that time the phone rang. It was Jared, our son, calling with good news. They were on a family outing at Dollywood and having a fantastic time! Good things are happening for them now. It had Kenny and I both ecstatic for them. God is great all the time. He is blessing us for all the years of struggle. Our grandchildren and family are restored to the proper order of life. Kenny told me he wanted to drive home via the Skyway as he anticipated heavy traffic on the Dragon now that the day had warmed up and the roads dried off. I did not argue.
I fixed myself a nest to relax and nap on the way home. I rested, but did not nap. My mind was whirling trying to figure a way out of my current mess. My entire Spring wildflower season has been knocked on its ear. Facing the reality of physical limits at present coupled with Kenny's work commitments is not easy. I had to come up with another plan to cheer myself up and get in a better head space. It has been very humbling.
My new plan came to me on the ride home:
I will do more Spring Wildflower Drives. They will include short, simple jaunts from the vehicle that won't over tax my strength.
I will drive the Cherohala Skyway for one and use it as part of hybrid trillium research for this season. I can hike Jeffrey Hell which is easy and short.
Once I got home I had an email from a nice lady named Krista Robb who is the outdoor activities director for Fontana Village. She was enjoying my blog and recommended we get up with her and come over for a stay. I wrote her back and told her I'd take her up on it! So there is that to look forward to! I told her I'd help her with info or whatever she needed. It made me feel positive about the future.
I heard from my orthopedic surgeon on Tuesday and he will call me within a week to set up a surgery date. I am considering having both knees done simultaneously if he will agree. One recovery period instead of two. I can use my recovery and therapy time to audit my old blog, work on the frame work for the new one, and my country stores blogs, auto tours, and excellent picnic locations! I will play the sympathy card to get my family to participate!
Later in the week I spoke with several friends who have told me they'd like to get together. I am going to do it too. I found out that there have been people who did not want to go hiking with me because they thought I'd hike them to death. Now that I'm hobbling around they know I won't so they are willing to go with me! Who knew?
Below is a video of Burgan Creek Falls from today.
I am not sharing directions to these locations because they are located on private property. I went with someone's blessing and careful directions. I have cut the directions off the top of Boyd's quote just enough to obscure the location. It is interesting to note that while researching this area on the oldest maps I could find... one dated 1795... Nails Creek was spelled Nales Creek!
Also worth mentioning... I found in the area a "Slave Cemetery" in another field
in the general vicinity of Nails Creek Road.
I had no plans for this past Saturday. Kenny told me late in the week he had to work Saturday. I hadn't yet made up my mind if I was going to get out and do something solo or if I was going to use the time to get things done around the house. My friend Boyd Hopkins is a really thoughtful person. He is real real good about understanding the kinds of places that I'd enjoy and suggesting them to me. He recounted some childhood memories to me this week and was even nice enough to share directions how to find the place. He was correct that it was the kind of thing to intrigue me. I am not a huge cemetery fan like some folks who devote time to that, but the idea of finding an area cemetery that had a Revolutionary War soldier buried fascinated me. The idea of visiting the abandoned, but still standing home of some very special friends from Boyd's childhood also interested me. It was only five miles from my house. The decision was an easy one to make. Clean house or go exploring? I hung up my dust rag and put on my backpack and away I went.
The facts available in books or online about this family would not have been enough to interest me. What made it come to life for me were Boyd's special memories of happy and fun times and good people. He has graciously agreed for me to share those here. I feel it important to share those as a preface to any photos or too much of my own narrative. It is the heart of this little adventure.
Below are two photos I swiped from Boyd's Facebook page. He is the real deal.
A bib overall wearing mountain man from childhood grown to a fine man.
Above: Boyd is front left with the big smile and the overalls. This is part of his family! Great looking bunch!
Below is a photo of him as a little boy I sneaked in here. Not to embarass him, but to set the tone since these are childhood memories. He grew up in Blount County in the Wildwood/Nails Creek area. It is some pretty country and back then was mostly agricultural land. Blount County is rich in history as well as natural beauty.
Above: Boyd Hopkins as a little bib overall wearing boy. He was a cutie!
Boyd's Memories
At the bottom of that hill immediately turn right on a little gravel lane that goes a short distance to a decent sized old cemetery. You can park there. Continue to walk down the old tractor rd to Nails Creek itself. There was a swinging bridge there when I was a child. Now you'll have to get wet or pray for low water! Cross the creek and keep going past an old barn. Continue uphill , bearing slightly right beyond the barn. At the top of the hill in the clearing beyond the barn was the site of Leonard and Elsie Loposser's house. You would have loved them. Pure country and pure gold.
Last time I was there, the outhouse and I think maybe one room of the old house was still standing. Now, keep in mind as you look at it, that I ate many a good supper there as a child. Hard to imagine now. When I would leave, Elsie would watch to see the top of my head as I crossed that swinging bridge. She would call my mother all worried saying she didn't see me cross it(I was 6 mind you). Well, she didn't know it, but the rickety old thing scared me so bad that I would CRAWL across it! Lol. Oh, and Leonard always kept hogs. He would pull his manure spreader to the day old bread store and they would fill it up. Mixed in with all that bread would be Little Debbie oatmeal pies still in their wrappers. My sister and I would climb up in there and eat them! We thought that was the greatest thing EVER!
Anyway... if you stand facing the house site, then look across the little branch to your right and out across the open field beyond. You'll see an isolated stand of trees out there. That graveyard is in there. It used to have a bit of a sorry fence around it to keep the cows from rubbing the stones down. Let me know if you find a salt shaker out there! Leonard used to grow watermelons in there where the cows couldn't get them(yes in the graveyard! Law!) He kept a salt shaker out there and he would slip out there and eat one and put salt on it. I asked him(again as a 6-9 yr old) what that salt shaker was doing out there and he said the ghosts kept it out there for when they decide to eat ya! He wanted to keep ME out of his watermelons too, I guess! In those days if you kept walking beyond the cemetary along the base of Bay's there were some other cool old cabins out through there, but I be amazed if there is anything left of them today. If you bump into anybody, tell them that Eunice and Joe McCammon's adopted grandson sent you out there looking for that old cemetery and the old Loposser place. Good memories. A time I'd go back to(if I didn't have to go to school!)
Below is where my trip began Saturday morning. Nails Creek Cemetery out in Wildwood. I loved how many huge oak trees were in this area like the one shown at the back of the cemetery.
I did take a few minutes to stroll around the Nails Creek Cemetery and looked at some headstones. I am picturing one below that was a stark reminder of child deaths in those times. Lennis B. Hines who was fifteen months old when she passed from this life. I loved the little angel and the flower engravings on the stone.
I parked here at the cemetery. I was fortunate that the ford of Nails Creek was low water today. I had on my waterproof hiking boots so I stayed dry in my crossing. I followed Boyd's directions out through the fields. He mentioned in his message that he recalled not much of the old house standing. I looked things over before going on Google maps and was surprised to find the house shown on satellite view as standing and in comparatively good shape. You never can tell if that is reality though. I could see in the distance the old house still standing! It appeared that Google maps was right.
I approached the house from the front and passed a copse of trees and weeds that were enveloping what must have been Leonard's hog pen. I went round the house and began checking it out from the back to the front.
Above: I am behind the old house. I like that there are still some bronze leaves hanging on.
Moving to the side of the house I am struck by the unusual layout of this house. I have often been amazed at how differently the layout of old houses is compared to today. They were far more about function than esthetics. This side of the home appears to have had two doors and three windows! All the rooms on this side look to have been bedrooms.
Below: Elsie's old warsh machine lays discarded out in the front lawn.
Above: if you look closely.. up at the point of the roof you can see the house was wired up. They had electricity!
Below is a look in the very front room. Something loud and large was knocking and beating around within the front wall of the house. I did not go in too close because of that and because of the filth.
Below: Despite the dirty, destroyed appearance of the first bedroom, the wallpaper pattern is still visible. It is rather pretty and real subtle compared to some I've seen in older houses.
below: I can only look across the middle bedroom toward the living room for a glimpse at the fireplace. The floor is way too rotten. I noticed the ceiling had been papered. I don't think I'd ever seen that done before!
Below: I have zoomed in for a closer photo and a look at the fireplace. I tried other ways to get into the living room without injuring myself or having the entire house crash down on my head. This was the best I was able to do today. It appears they may have had a fireplace at one time.. you can see the brickwork that would have supported a mantel. I am guessing they redid this later on to use for a wood or coal burning stove.
Above: rusty wire coat hangers in what must have been the master bedroom. Below is a shot of the room from the window. The wallpaper pattern in here was very pretty. Elsie had good taste in decorating. I bet this room was quite appealing back in the day.
Below: I have moved on around the house in a clockwise fashion. I am now outside the back kitchen door. That is what is shown in the photo below.
Below: the kitchen sink is now discarded in the back yard.
Above: The pretty sweet gum tree still has some bright colors this morning back of the house. Doubtful this was so close to the house back in the day.
Above: my first glimpse into Elsie's kitchen
Looking up there is an opening like it went to a loft area in the upper parts of the house. May have been storage or some families used this as extra sleeping space.
Above: I am in the kitchen looking at the back of the fireplace. It was quite large. Everything in this kitchen has been white washed.
Below: a close up look at the rusted screen door hinges left behind.
A look at these and I can hear the sound of a screen door slamming. I grew up without air conditioning so we always had screens in the windows and screen doors. I still have screen doors on all but one of my doors today.
Below: as I moved around the house toward the front I saw this broke down building. I wasn't sure what it was until I saw some more stuff in the wreckage.
Above: this was an old chicken feeder. It was my job to feed our chickens when I was a kid. I had to feed and water them. Give them oyster shells, gather the eggs, put fresh straw in the nest boxes, and look after the hens. We had a leghorn rooster that was named Floyd. He was so old and senile he crowed in the middle of the night.
Above: a closer look at the chimney. In rough shape, but hanging in there.
A view of the opposite end of the house.. kitchen window
Below: my favorite photo of this place. The front of the house. Bold orange and red leaves from the gum tree outback, old rusty roof, under that deep blue sky!
I'd loved to have seen this house back in its prime. I'd loved to have met the Loposser's. I bet I'd have loved them. They sound like my kinda people.
I tried to learn where their surname came from, but I had no luck with this. The best I was able to do was find out there is an alternative spelling of the name.. Lopossa. It also lead me nowhere. No origin I've found.
Above and below: a couple shots of the little spring branch that was likely the water source for the home. It flows from the base of a bank to one side of the house.
Above: I liked the soft light in this photo of the rear of the house. With the trees and shrubs partially concealing the house it is easy to imagine it still vital and in use. What a pretty spot this would have been to live.
I wrapped up my investigations of the house and moved on to the next hill over to find the old cemetery Boyd had told me about. I was quietly making my way in the direction of the clump of trees he had directed me to, when I looked up and here came a deer hunter toward me. I clapped my hand over my mouth. I felt bad. I had failed to recognize today was the first day of rifle season for deer. I had on zero blaze orange and I was embarrassed. I was even more upset with myself for I'd not have come here today if I'd remembered what today was. I hate to be rude and mess with people's hunting. It is bad form and unsafe to boot. He motioned to me reassuring me that it was ok. We exchanged greetings and introductions. I apologized for my intrusion. He assured me he was leaving anyhow and had a buddy who was also fixing to leave. He had seen me long before I was aware of him and made sure his friend knew I was around also. I thanked him for his kindness. I told him what I was there for. He looked pleased and was happy to make sure I knew how to find the old cemetery. I had picked the correct clump of trees! He went his way and I determined I'd finish what I set out to do today.
He was a very nice man and I was glad to meet him.
It didn't take me long to get to the top of the next hill. I could see the cemetery fenced in long before I reached it. The descendants of the Brakebill family had come together and constructed a stout fence around the place. They put up a sign and had maintained the cemetery pretty well. Summer had an abundant crop of tall grass and weeds concealing many of the smaller grave markers. Many of these were mere field stones marking the head and foot of each grave plot.
I could tell at one point walking in the tangles of weeds I was probably stepping on the markers. I tried to be as careful as I could.
Above: Sign for the Peter Brakebill cemetery.
He was the son of Hans Nicholas and Maria Juliana Brechbiel ( the original spelling of the name). He was born in Lebanon township, Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Born April 16, 1760 died January 22, 1884 at the age of 83.
It is likely his parents were the first immigrants in the family from Switzerland to America. They ended up in Pennsylvania. Many of the Brechbiels were Mennonites. Mennonites are a Peace church. They do not take up arms so Peter could not have been one. He served in the Revolutionary War and survived his service! He was in the Pennsylvania Militia. He settled in Tennessee in this general area. He married Katherine Rorex and they had eight children some of who are buried in this cemetery also.
Below is a photo of his headstone.
Below: a stone that marks a grave. many of the graves were simply marked with rocks like this. one at the head and one at the foot of each grave plot.
Below: an example of the settling of the grave and its spoil heap.. this is what those comb graves in the Cumberland Plateau were designed to guard against.
No cows or herd animals could step in the grave, it protected against so much settling and if a walnut or acorn hit on it.. it simply rolled off to the sides. You'd not have trees growing through the bones of your ancestors.
Below: a sober reminder of child deaths during that era.. the marker of Martha Alice Walker, daughter of S.E. and J.B. Walker. She was a little shy of eight months old when she passed.
Other names I saw in this ancient graveyard aside from Brakebill were
Dupes, Vineyard, and Walker. A great many of the burials here had no engravings on their headstones.
I had seen about all there was to see in this cemetery. I found it very interesting. I had never heard of it nor known anything about it.
I learned the following about the Loposser family.
Leonard Levon Loposser was born to Theodore and Elza Loposser. He married Elsie ( Holder I think). They had three sons together. Charles, J.C. and Robert.
Just knowing these facts wouldn't have done much to endear the place to me. The memories of one little boy who they took time to love and fellowship with made all the difference in the world. Thanks Boyd for sharing with me. It is beautiful.
One day when I am gone from this world my house may end up in the same shape as this old home place. I hope someone remembers me fondly and share those memories with another. It is one way we live on.
**Edited to Add: Boyd's sister, Bonnie Hopkins Stevens read the blog entry and it sparked quite a few wonderful memories she graciously shared and agreed for me to add them to this write up. It makes it all the more special. I can just see her trying to fly off the hill with her chicken feather and cardboard wings.
This is awesome! I snapped many a green bean on Elsie's front porch, stirred the cast iron kettle of cracklin over the open fire outside, collected eggs more often than ever needed, made wings by glueing chicken feathers to cardboard and tried to fly off that hill , ate too many Little Debby cakes, and listened to so many stories, most of which I don't remember... except the one when lightening struck Leonard's mule and it fell, propped up against a tree and he couldn't figure out why that mule hadn't moved all day! Remember the time we got Grandma Zolie on that swinging bridge and started making it sway when she was halfway across? Or when I found a goose and thought it was a swan? - we caught it and took it to Elsie. Best place in the world to be a kid! Thank you for sharing this. Love ya!
Boyd: I just remembered something. Wasn't it Elsie who taught us how to preserve fall leaves with glycerin soap?
Yes! And I used to hold the bucket to catch the innards when Leonard butchered pigs! I am sure I was in the way but he acted like I was a big help... I remember it was in the autumn and you were at school... I can still see, hear, and smell it all in my head... it's actually what made me want to be a surgeon when I was a kid, I was absolutely enthralled by the whole process...
added Thanksgiving Day Nov. 26, 2020.
**Dec. 12. 2020**
Learned from the family members still surviving the original surname was of German origin. It was Loßwasser (Loswasser is what it sounds like) and it translates to Praise Water in English! The ß character is called eszett and is a sharp S sound like losz wasser... Praise Water (wasser)
Above is a photo of Leonard Loposser from his family member Jim Loposser!
What I see is that these folks were well loved and good to everyone. They are remembered fondly. I could never have guessed how this little visit and write up would become such a blessing to me. <3
Again from Jim Loposser... the sons and descendants
Left is the Loposser's son JG holding Jim's eldest brother circa 1950s.. and on the right Jim's dad ... son of Leonard & Elsie... Robert. Handsome fellows!
above: Spring Beauties
