The Significance of Twist Ties - Part 2
Like I said earlier, my uncles used that car-hood boat to fish on pretty much all of what I call the “Fallsville” streams – Kings, War Eagle, Buffalo, Piney. I don’t remember them mentioning if they made it to the Mulberry or White Rivers, but wouldn’t doubt it. But I do remember a couple of their "fishing stories."
First story…My uncle Claude had taken the boat down to the lower Big Piney. He and whoever he was with had had a good day of fishing – a REAL good day. They were drifting down close to Highway 64 - before Interstate 40 was built - and soon met a guy in a fancy new fiberglass motorboat headed upstream. The guy in the motorboat cuts his motor and asks the universal fisherman question, “Doing any good?”
My uncle says, “Yeah, we’ve done alright.”
“How many?”
“Quite a few.”
“Well, let’s see ‘em!”
My uncle calmly sets down his fishing pole and pulls up their stringer, which is heavy, mostly with big smallmouth bass, the biggest ones weighing five or six pounds. When Motorboat Guy sees this, he almost falls over, and starts stuttering, “L-L-L-Look at those fish!!! AND LOOK AT THAT D_ _ _ ED BOAT!!!” They got a big laugh out of that.
Second story…My uncles had always heard about how good the fishing was over on the Buffalo. So one spring day, three of them loaded the boat in the back of a pickup and drove over the mountain to Boxley. They stopped in at the old Casey store, which was on the east side of Highway 21, just south of the Moore Creek bridge. They asked about river access, and could they get some help setting a shuttle? The guys at the store seemed to want to be real helpful, so they set shuttle, leaving the pickup at the Ponca low-water bridge, and headed up for a put-in at the Boxley bridge. The guys from the store probably said something like, “You fellers have fun!” and took off.
My uncles hauled the boat down to the edge of the water, loaded their gear, and shoved off. They realized right away they weren’t going to be doing any fishing. The river was up, of course, and it was all they could do to keep the boat upright, under control, and bailed out. They somehow made it down to the Ponca bridge, and after loading up, drove back to the store. Their shuttle drivers were sitting outside the store with big wide grins on their faces, and asked how the fishing was. My uncles realized they’d been set up, and weren’t in much of a talking mood, but still laughed about it all those years later.
I asked Uncle Claude whatever happened to the boat. Turns out those car hoods were recycled one more time and the boat became a planter on the top of the big cellar at my great-grandparents’ house there in Japton.
This is how it looked sometime in the mid-eighties when I found out about it. It's pretty wide - not sure it would fit through Crack in the Rock or one of the "doors" at Lower Screw-up on Richland...
I was back in Japton for a family reunion a few years ago and asked about the boat again. The dirt had been emptied out and the boat had been hauled off down by the creek nearby, a long stone's throw from where it was built. I went down and found it in the weeds, rusted away and all but gone, in the bottomland of Drakes Creek.
If that boat could talk, I’m sure it could tell a lot more stories. But I’m glad I was able to learn a few first-hand from my uncles – good memories I’ll never forget.