In Pursuit of The Grave of Tiger Whitehead

James "Tiger" Whitehead, who died in 1905, has both Tiger Valley and Tiger Creek named in his honor. Both of these picturesque geographic features are to be found lying in the western shadow of Roan Mountain, Tennessee. The story of Tiger Whitehead is certainly interesting and the fact that Whitehead seemed to gain more and more notice with the passing decades after his death only added to the curiosity factor for me. After a bit of research I came to understand the general vicinity where the grave was to be found.

Tiger Whitehead’s was a grave site that I have pursued for several years after first reading about it on one of the mountain blogs I frequent.  Tiger Whitehead is buried in the Tiger Valley area of Carter County, Tennessee, and he is likely the most famous hunter who ever hailed from  eastern Tennessee. Finding the access point beside the road is easy enough if you know what to look for, but finding that spot is only half the challenge to the unfamiliar. Leaving the roadside, one must negotiate an unmarked path to a nearly invisible footbridge over a roaring mountain stream. Once across the bridge, you must pick your way along a climbing, leaf-littered path up the hillside for a piece until the trail terminates in a small knoll-top cemetery. It is there, on the back row of tombstones that one will find the grave of Tiger Whitehead and his wife, Sally Garland Chambers. 

This is the stream one must cross to follow the path to Tiger's gravesite. 

The path up the hill to Tiger Whitehead's grave.

Reaching the top of the trail, one finds this small cemetery.

James “Tiger” Whitehead got his nickname from the fact that he once had to hunt and kill a tiger that escaped from a traveling circus near Bristol, Tennessee.  But Tiger’s most notable exploit is that he is said to have killed 99 black bears during his life­time. According to the legend, when Tiger was on his death bed, a group of his friends trapped a bear cub and brought it to Tiger's bedside and asked him to kill it so that he would meet his maker with 100 bear kills to his name. However, the legend goes, Tiger told his friends: "No! If it's not free and running wild, I can't kill it." And so it was that the bear was set free and Tiger passed into the eternal memory of the mountains he loved so dearly.

Tiger’s tombstone reads: "THE NOTED HUNTER, JAMES T. WHITEHEAD, BORN 1819, DIED SEPT. 25, 1905, (KILLED 99 BEARS), WE HOPE HE HAS GONE TO REST."  

Tiger's (left) and Sally's tombstones are the larger ones in this photo.

Tiger Whitehead's tombstone.

Sally's tombstone.

Tiger Whitehead is buried next to his wife, Sally Garland Chambers. Etched in Sally’s tombstone are the words: "NOT ONLY A MOTHER TO  THE HUMAN RACE, BUT TO ALL ANIMAL KIND AS SHE GAVE NURSE TO ONE FAWN AND TWO CUBS." Legend has it that Sally adopted two orphaned bear cubs and a fawn and raised them until they could fend for themselves.   

Many years after Tiger's death, Johnny Cash released a song, “The Ballad of Tiger Whitehead”, as part of a children's album in memory and honor of the hunter. Cash's song, "The Ballad of Tiger Whitehead," tells the legend of Tiger and Sally.  There is a version of the song on YouTube in which Johnny Cash recounts how a friend led him to the grave during a visit to Carter County. Here is the link to that video:

http://youtu.be/DjcegbdjH5g

I am deliberately omitting details of how to find this grave site, primarily for two reasons: 1) if you’re like me, you’ll enjoy the challenge of doing your own research to figure it out, rather than being spoon-fed the location; and, 2) out of respect to the family and the landowner as it has come to my attention that this may be private and posted property. There were no signs up when I visited, but I have since learned that visitors other than family may not be encouraged at this location. 

So, if you pursue this hunt for yourself, do so knowing full well that you may not be welcome. 

Catching Up

I have been neglecting this blog due to a host of other demands, but I haven't forgotten about it, nor have I lost the desire to share my thoughts and adventures in the forum. Given all the attention on Facebook, Twitter, and the plethora of social media now available, one has to wonder how many people still take the time to peruse something as "archaic" as the old-fashioned blog. It's a random thought, but it doesn't stop me from taking great delight in the freedom of expression offered up by the blog format.

Okay, that's enough pre-update rambling and the exercise of typing that opening paragraph has gotten my mind warmed up enough to proceed with the post.

The biggest change I would need to report by way of updates is that I no longer ride any of the bikes you'll see in the older posts. All of those bikes have been sold or traded away in favor of newer rides. In fact, I have finally made the leap to the saddle of a BMW R1200RT as my primary motorcycle. I named her "Jolene" after the lyrics from the Dolly Parton song about "her beauty is beyond compare". For me, this is the most beautiful, graceful, smooth, and rewarding-to-ride motorcycle I have ever owned. Here's a shot of me and Jolene on the Tail of the Dragon in October of 2016:

Yeah, that's a Killboy pro shot and it's a beauty! If you're up that way and get your photo snapped, be sure to check out their website to buy your shots as they do an awesome job of making you look good. For proof of that contention, see above. :-)

There have been at least a couple of Fall Leaf Rides since I last posted, so I will have to do a post of some of the highlights from those outings. I have a few things worth sharing, including tracking down a couple of interesting historical grave sites while enjoying the twisty mountain roads.

I'll close for now with that soft teaser about things to come. I will "publish" this and see how this new and updated version of Blogger handles my work. Thanks for stopping by and ride safe.

Memorial Day Weekend in the Mountains

I decided to make a quick run up to the mountains of NC/TN for Memorial Day weekend. Taking one vacation day at work gave me a four-day weekend and made the trip worth doing. Of course that meant a full day of travel on each end, but I really maximized the two days in between. And, to make my travel time as quick as possible I went on four-wheels this time, instead of two.

Here are a few photos that I snapped during my quick visit to my favorite place on earth:

 The Chestoa View overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Stone bridge along the BRP. This one is located adjacent to the Linville Falls parking area.

Looking south from the BRP near the Linn Cove Viaduct.

Rough Ridge and the BRP viewed from the Viaduct area.

This was my room key at the hotel.  For those who understand, the coincidence was striking.

Roan Mountain Visitors Center.

Spotted this facade standing alongside NC 80 as I made my way southward from Bakersville, NC.

Spotted this awesome-looking tree while hiking to the overlook at Craggy Gardens on the BRP.

The view from the overlook at Craggy Gardens. That's the Visitors Center below.

This one is for Mr. Sarcasm and he'll know why.

Kissimmee River State Park

We've been planning this trip for a whole and finally made it happen today, April 12, 2014. The biggest attraction for this ride was the chance to take a tour of the park on Segways. Here's the story of the day in three videos.

First there was some Segway training to get us started:

 

This video features some of my better photos from the Segway tour:

 

And, finally, here's a compilation video from the Segway tour:

This was a great outing and I highly recommend the Segway tour if you ever get the chance to do it.

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Club Ride - Ozello Trail - December 28, 2013

Gunny, Mr. Sarcasm and I rolled out after breakfast at Snellgroves and headed north toward Ozello in the usual circuitous fashion. After an hour-and-a-half of twisting through the countryside, we made our first stop at the Hess gas station in Brooksville to download some coffee.

Gunny and Mr. Sarcasm in the Hess parking lot:

Leaving the Hess station, we headed into downtown Brooksville before turning north again toward CR 491. The weather was overcast, but that didn't hurt the quality of the riding one bit:

Gunny looped us all through the woods around Booksville until we ended up on US 19 at US 98, where we headed due north on the direct line to the Ozello Trail. On US 19 I got a chance to shoot a few shots of the guys astride their steeds. Here is Gunny rolling up the highway on his Triumph Trophy SE:

Mr. Sarcasm was riding his V-Strom again today:

We rode the Ozello Trail to its terminus at the water's edge. We stopped for a quick look around and Gunny took advantage of the opportunity to take a picture of me taking a picture of him:

Here's a close-up shot of my Triumph Trophy SE. It is a well-established fact that the silver ones are the fastest, best balanced, and best looking of the Trophy line:

Back on the bikes we doubled-back to Perk's Old Port Cove Seafood Restaurant for a tasty lunch. This is a shot of Gunny and Mr. Sarcasm delicately turning into the motorcycle-treacherous gravel parking lot:

We got a pretty good parking spot right near the restaurant and the water:

They've dressed the place up a bit since our last visit:

Out in the parking lot Mr. Sarcasm was the epitome of cool:

We elected to dine on the deck overlooking the water:

I did mention that the food at Perk's is tasty, right? We all chose the crab-stuffed grouper topped with two gigantic shrimp and served with fries, coleslaw, and hush puppies. Yes, it was delicious!:

They have fresh blue crabs at Perk's, too. How fresh, you ask? This fresh:

The best thing about riding out to the end of the Ozello Trail is that you have to retrace your route to leave. Since the Ozello Trail is referred to by some as the twistiest road in Florida it's a good time in both directions:

Leaving the Ozello Trail we headed south on US 19 all the way down to Spring Hill so that Mr. Sarcasm could check out a new KTM dual-sport bike that caught his attention. This shop sells KTM, Triumph, and even Royal Enfield bikes:

The outside appearance of the shop belies the sea of top-notch bikes on display inside:

I like the look and retro design of the Royal Enfields, but they are just too small to be practical for me:

This is the KTM that Mr. Sarcasm came to see. As usual, his taste in motorcycles is impeccable:

Gunny kept getting in the way of my great photographs, so I asked him to move out of the way. This is what Gunny getting out of the way looks like:

Here's another shot of the KTM that Mr. Sarcasm is contemplating adding to his stable of bikes:

Mr. Sarcasm even looked reasonably comfortable sitting on it:

We did luck up and found a motorcycle that was perfectly sized for Gunny:

Mr. Sarcasm told us to get him out of that shop while he still had money in his pocket, but he just had to take one last look at that KTM on the way to the door:

Leaving Spring Hill we made for home via the indirect, country roads route. I split off from the other guys in San Antonio where they turned east toward Polk County while I continued south toward Hillsborough County. I ran into some rain showers in Zephyrhills and continued to ride in and out of rain the rest of the way home:

I arrived home at about 4:10 p.m., with 210 miles showing for the day's riding. Despite the overcast and the late rain showers, this was a great day of riding. I feel sorry for my northern two-wheel brothers who are snowbound this time of year. They were dreaming of their springtime rides to come while I was out riding in t-shirt weather. Ya gotta love Florida!

 

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Club Ride - DeLand Airport - December 7, 2012

A few of us rode over to the airport in DeLand for a MSTA meet-up, where we enjoyed fellowship with other riders, a tasty lunch, and plenty of skydiving action. Here's a short video I put together on the skydiving. My advance apologies if the titles aren't formatted correctly! I'm having an issue with iMovie on my iPad:

 

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Fall Ride 2013 - Day One - Saturday, 10/19/2013

In absolutely uncommon-for-me fashion, I arose at four o'clock in the morning to pull off a 6 a.m. meet-up with my fellow travelers so we could begin our day-long sojourn to the mountains of northern Georgia.

 

Keeping to the agreed upon schedule, I arrived at the rendezvous point about ten minutes early, gassed up the Triumph Trophy SE, and then waited for the others to arrive.

 

Sitting out in the cool morning air of the McDonald's parking lot I was feeling pretty smug about being the first one to arrive. This was a real accomplishment for me as I'm usually pushing the schedule to the last second...and sometimes beyond. So, it was truly satisfying to be sitting there as the first-to-arrive, the trailblazer, the trendsetter, the man who...and that's when I looked inside the McDonald's and saw Mr. Sarcasm in there calmly sipping coffee and reading a newspaper, the crumpled remains of McDonald's food wrappers littering the table before him. Oh, well, maybe next time!

 

The others arrived, we knocked out the small talk and reviewed the ride plan in short order. We went kickstands up and rolled onto Interstate 4 just about six o'clock in the morning. Things were off to a good start.

 

3.2 miles up the road, Eddie called for our first break of the day. Okay, maybe it was more like 20 miles up the road -- it was Pasco County, afterall -- but it sure felt like less than that. Let's call it a luggage check. Yeah, that's it, a "luggage check"! This too-soon-in-coming break was, thankfully, kept to a minimal amount of time and we were soon winging our way northward once more.

 

The darkness still enveloped the land as we rode north on I-75 from the Tampa area. Our goal for the day was to make it to Blairsville, Georgia, and the Copperhead Lodge, where we were slated to spend several days exploring the area and experiencing a loop-ride that has been dubbed, “The Gauntlet”.

 

As the minutes and the miles ticked by, I saw the first signs of the rising sun off to my right; a thin sliver of light tracing the horizon and backlighting flat, featureless land east of the highway. Off to my left the mist of early morning ground fog was clinging to the bases of trees like cotton batting. Sunrise is never so beautiful as when seen from the saddle of a motorcycle.

 

By ten in the morning our little band of motorcycle travelers crossed the state line into Georgia. The trip was in full swing as we were officially out of Florida. My thoughts began to drift ahead to visions of twisty asphalt and scenic mountain vistas...what the hell?!? Another break??? Yep!

 

Just a few miles over the state line into Georgia, Eddie signaled another departure from the Interstate and a halt to forward progress. This time it was for a little exercise I like to call "smuggler's run". In homage to Dragnet, we'll skip the details so as to protect the not-so-innocent. They know who they are and they know what they did. And they know they killed my forward progress to do it, dammit!

Finally back on the road, my thoughts returned to the mountains and the days of great riding that lay ahead. Motorcycle riding may be about the journey, but this time it was the destination that beckoned to me like a siren’s song, calling me closer and closer to a place where my soul would be renewed by cool air and curvy roads.

 

There were other diversions along the way. We got stuck in downtown Atlanta post-crash traffic for every bit of an hour. We lost Mr. Sarcasm. Mr. Sarcasm found us. Or, perhaps, we found Mr. Sarcasm despite his best efforts to the contrary. We stopped for someone to eat brought-from-home, picnic chicken that was consumed in the parking lot of a Chic-fil-a restaurant. And, of course, we stopped for the periodic and necessary refills of our gas tanks.

 

Twelve hours and 566 miles later, we finally pulled into the parking lot of the Copperhead Lodge in Blairsville, Georgia. It was time for some much needed rest.

 

Thankfully, getting settled at the Copperhead Lodge was a non-event. We were greeted by friendly staff who were expecting us and they had everything ready for our arrival. Within minutes I had keys to a cabin, a map of “The Gauntlet”, and a full briefing on what was available for dinner in the Copperhead’s restaurant. I smiled to myself as I realized that we had arrived at a place where the people not only understand motorcyclists, they are motorcyclists, and they use that shared perspective to ensure their guests will have an enjoyable and satisfying stay.

 

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