They’re off to the left as you leave the town of Tellico Plains en route to the river; the Stokley Bottoms they’re called. In 1926 the Stokley Company bought these alluvial plains for crop production and in doing so employed many members of the local population in this part of Southern Appalachia. Although employment was seasonal, it was a boon to the area and remained so for many years; the Twenties and Thirties were hard times for most. When World War II erupted, many of the men were called to military service in distant lands; the workforce dwindled and times were again hard, especially for Stokley with its vast acreage and labor intensive needs. However, Uncle Sam soon remedied the problem: German POWs were brought in to work the fields.

It was a gray winter’s day during the middle of the week when Timbo and I shouldered our kayaks and scrambled up the bank at the Turkey Creek take-out. No one else had been on the river that day and we had enjoyed an exhilarating run of The Ledges. As we quickly changed into dry clothes a cold wind chased a few dead leaves across the road and sent them scurrying into the woods. Just then a truck approached. It stopped and an elderly man got out and sauntered up to us.

" How you boys doin’? " he said in a tone that was more of an invitation to talk than a question.

"Fine."

" Bet it was cold raftin’ today."

"Not too bad. We’ve got plenty of warm gear--it’s the changing that’s worst of all!"

" I live up the road a piece...towards the Indian Bound’ry. I kind of like talking to you folk when I get the chance. Lived here all my life."

" Lived here all your life...say, do you know about the German POW camp that was located in Tellico Plains during the war?"

"Know about it--heck, I was a guard there!"

Our conversation took on life.

"Oh, yes, I was a guard there," he continued. "You know, those folk were happy to just set out the war here in Tellico Plains--didn’t give us any trouble at all. I even made friends with one of them; Heintz was his name. You see, we couldn’t get sugar ‘n coffee and they could--supplied by the gov’ment. We could get tobacco and they couldn’t, so me and Heintz soon got to tradin.’ Got to know that ol’ boy pretty good--spoke fair English, he did.

"Did you boys come over the falls up there?" he asked, seeming to change the subject abruptly.

"Sure. That’s what makes the trip, or certainly adds to--"

"Do you know who was the first one to come over the falls? I don’t mean summertime swimmers—the ones jumpin’ in there when the river’s real low--I mean come over the falls when a bold flow’s happenin’...kind of like you boys do now."

"Well, I’m not really sure but I think it might have been a guy from down in Georgia by the name of Doug Woodward...must have been 1972 or--"

"Ha! Not by a long shot! Let me tell you a story--that is, if you’ve got the time….

"One day late of the spring me and Heintz was driving a load of new barrels--they’d put the green beans in ‘em later on, you know--down to the bottoms from a fellow up in North Carolina. On the way up we’d passed the Bald River and then the Tellico Falls--ol’ Heintz had marveled at ‘em; said they reminded him of the halps…. Now on the way back down Heintz came up with this tarnation idea that he wanted to go over the falls in a barrel. Seems like he’d once read accounts of some folk doin’ just that up in Niagara. So we stopped and took off one of the barrels...rolled it down by the riverside where Heintz climbed in and I tapped on the top. I shoved him off in that river and ran on down to watch him come over the falls. Well, he came over the falls all right--’bout in the middle as I recollect--and foundered! Law...he was spinnin’ around in there like a one-legged whirlijig bug--seemed like forever, it did. When he finally got close to the bank I fished him out with a long piece of drift...cacked all over the stones when he got out of that barrel...looked worse than a misery, he did. Well, we loaded that barrel back up and headed on down to Tellico Plains, not speaking much as we did...’course Heintz was still mighty peaked, which might explain that.

"We never talked about that shine and when the war was over they loaded all those folk up and shipped ‘em back to their home. I never saw Heintz again.

"Well, I’ve got to mosey on back to the house. The wife’s probably wondering where I’m at. It’s been a pleasure talking to you boys."

"Same here," we answered as we watched him walk to his truck. "And thanks for that story!"

Timbo and I finished loading our boats and began the drive home. Paralleling the bends of the river as we drove along, we chatted.

"What did you think about that story?"

"Well, it sure speaks to the attitude...to the idea of the importance of a first descent, doesn’t it?"

We soon came to an orange vested flag-lady standing on the shoulder of the road, her STOP sign on a stick aimed our way. Heavy earth moving equipment raced across the road in front of us and up the embankment where they planed huge slabs of mountainside into their dropped pans. Her stick spun and SLOW beckoned us across. As we drove into town we noticed--off to the right--the Stokley Bottoms. Here the massive earth movers dropped their laden to build up the roadbed for the new Tellico Plains bypass; a road to tie in with the Cherohala Skyway.

I’m sure Heintz would have trouble recognizing the place now.