Reelfoot

After stretching my legs at Land Between the Lakes in Kentucky, I headed southwest toward Reelfoot Lake in far western Tennessee.  The lake, and the adjacent bottomlands, have called to me like a mythical siren off and on for a couple of decades, and I found myself working in the vicinity for a few days.  So...it was time to explore the area a bit.

For such a significant recreational draw, the surrounding area is pretty depressed from an economic standpoint.  Most of the surrounding small towns dotting the landscape sport long-shuttered gas stations, abandoned homes, and dilapidated infrastructure.  About the only sure signs of life are the ubiquitous Dollar General stores and Baptist churches.  

My first foray had me hiking a trail through the bottomlands on the western side of the preserve.  The trail was not well maintained, which isn't much of an issue for me.  The mosquitoes and flies, on the other hand, were insufferable.  I made the entire length of the trail, but not without a few choice expletives and knocking my glasses off my face twice.  

The gravel backroad that leads to a trailhead

A view of the trail roughly halfway through

As the sun began to set, I headed over to the southern shore of the lake, walked to the end of a broken pier, and just watched and listened for a while.

The next afternoon, I set off for the northern portion of the preserve, along the Upper Blue Basin.  There was no one else in the entire preserve, and deer and black vultures skedaddled as I slowly cruised toward a parking spot I liked.  Exiting my car, I walked to the edge of the forest, mindful of the abundant poison ivy, and looked down.  Right there at my boot, crawling through the dry leaves, was a young mud snake.

Welcome to Reelfoot!

I worked my way around some large cypress trees at the water's edge, finding a couple of mud turtle shells from animals that had been predated by (probably) mink.  Movement at the base of one of the trees turned out to be a snake rapidly making a break for the water.  I quickly caught it before confirming its ID (hint - don't do that in places like this where cottonmouths are common).  It turned out to be my first ever broad-banded watersnake.  It had seen better days, but it was full of piss and vinegar and not lethargic so I felt okay about holding it to take a few pictures.  Then I placed it back onto the ground, where it proceeded to dash right into the water and disappear.

Throughout the trip, the turtles were very actively nesting.  I assisted several turtles in crossing roads, mostly red-eared sliders, as well as eastern box turtles.  But the strangest experience I had with a turtle on the trip was watching a large female common snapping turtle attempt to nest at the top of a large rootball of a downed tree.  A few yards away, a completely predated snapping turtle nest.  It is damn near impossible for these eggs to survive in the ground long enough to hatch, but enough make it to keep the species going.

Spot the momma turtle

Returning to town in the waning daylight, I took the long way home.  Highway 22, which traces a ridgeline to the east about fourteen miles long.  To the west, a big open sky.  The air was heavy and the aroma of deep mud and campfire beckoned me.  But, the real world calls.  I'll return one day.