Category: Fresh water tank leak

Nokomis Trail

by Greg • August 19, 2025 • 4 Comments

August 17, 2025

47 degree low; high 66

I went outside at 4am to see the stars and took 4 iPhone pictures while lying on the picnic table. I have no idea what this is.

We were sore and tired from hiking, but it was going to be a sunny day in the 60’s – perfect for a hike. Martha made a hearty breakfast scramble with eggs, bacon, onions, peppers and left over french fries and toast.

I glanced up and saw a beautiful red fox trotting past the trailer, up a little bank and stopped to poop. I quickly grabbed my phone, but he was gone. What’s with the pooping on our site?

We set off to the Nakomis Trail at Old Woman Bay. Some of you with great memories may recall that Nakomis was Hiawatha’s grandmother, who raised him.

From https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nokomis

Nokomis is the name of Nanabozho‘s grandmother in the Ojibwe traditional stories and was the name of Hiawatha‘s grandmother in Henry Wadsworth Longfellow‘s poem, The Song of Hiawatha, which is a re-telling of the Nanabozho stories. Nokomis is an important character in the poem, mentioned in the familiar lines:

By the shores of Gitche Gumee,

By the shining Big-Seawater

Stood the wigwam of Nokomis

Daughter of the moon Nokomis.

Dark behind it rose the forest

Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees

Rose the firs with cones upon them

Bright before it beat the water

Beat the clear and sunny water

Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.

According to the poem, From the full moon fell Nokomis/Fell the beautiful Nokomis. She bears a daughter, Wenonah. Despite Nokomis’ warnings, Wenonah allows herself to be seduced by the West-Wind, Mudjekeewis, Till she bore a son in sorrow/Bore a son of love and sorrow/Thus was born my Hiawatha.

Abandoned by the heartless Mudjekeewis, Wenonah dies in childbirth, leaving Hiawatha to be raised by Nokomis. The wrinkled old Nokomis/Nursed the little Hiawatha and educates him.

From https://www.flickriver.com/photos/snuffy/253269079/

The Nokomis Trail is a 3 mile loop rated moderate taking 1.5 – 3 hours. We figured we could walk 3 miles. The clue was the 3 hours. It is a loop trail taking you up a mountain to beautiful views of Old Woman Bay. We walked it counter-clockwise, which proved to be a good guess. Starting the hike was a round-rock trail through a pretty forest, but you had to stop to look around. There was a lot of reindeer lichen, which woodland caribou love to eat. Unfortunately, they are no longer here, as the wolves and humans have taken their toll.

The path changed to dirt for a steady climb, then to rocks until we climbed to the top for an outlook on a huge boulder. We could see Old Woman Bay, the river and the Trans-Canada highway. On the way down there were two more overlooks and places that looked like filming of “The Last of the Mohicans.” The trail turned very steep going down, so we had to turn around like climbing down a ladder. We were coming down a long, steep stretch and I took a fall. I guess it is part of getting older, but all along I thought about all those hard, sharp rocks and the damage they could do if you slipped or fell. I was coming down, almost to the bottom when Martha reversed her direction. Trying not to run into her, I took a bad step and tumbled to land on my back. Very fortunately, there was no damage. My backpack saved me as there was a sharp rock underneath it. Whew!

I must say I admire the Canadian way of “swim at your own risk.” Hike at your own risk, look over a waterfall at your own risk, or just no sign at all, but you go at your own risk. I like that.

Old Woman Bey
Trans-Canada Highway

We took 2.5 hours to do the hike, including stops at all the overlook and 10 minutes for Martha to retrieve my hat after I fell. Martha rated the hike a 3.5/5.0 because of all the rocks, but all the young people just frolicked up and down the mountain, and the views are spectacular. A couple of young guys greeted us at the first overlook and Martha said, “I’ll trade you my legs for yours,” and one replied, “I’ll trade for your wisdom.” That brought a smile to her face. We saw our first snake on the trail, but it was going too fast to identify it.

I could have fished the lake in Rabbit Blanket, but the wind was blowing pretty good and I had no legs to hike down the river. Maybe tomorrow.

Bradley Fork, Fishing, Fresh water tank leak, Great Smoky Mountains National Park, North Carolina, Smokemont Campground, NC

Bradley Fork And a Leaking Fresh Water Tank

by Greg • October 13, 2021 • 0 Comments

Saturday, September 25, 2021

50 deg at 3:00 AM

Batteries at 79%, 82% last night (There are no hookups in GSMNP)

It’s been sunny every day, but sun only hits the panels from 2:30-4:00. The rest of the day I’m getting 1.5A. Takes 10A to run the furnace in the morning set at 58 deg. I’m getting 300WH/ day with a max of 13.7 and min of 13.1. All charging is on bulk.

Since I had seen so many fishermen yesterday, I decided to walk further upstream on Bradley Fork. I would walk an hour and start. I debated about taking the big or small rod, but opted for the big one. It will cast further, casts streamers better and is long enough to flip or dab a fly.

I started walking at 7:30 in waist waders, felt-soled boots, two shirts, a fleece and a fishing vest that weighed too much. At 8:00 I removed the fleece as I was beginning to sweat. I didn’t see anyone along the way. With plenty of time to think, I realized there are two backcountry campgrounds up here. fishermen could be camped up here and already be on the stream.

At 8:30 I got in the stream and started fishing. By 9:30 I had changed flies 5 times with no action. Maybe it was too cold for them. The sun was just now getting into this hollow. This part of the stream is steeper and smaller, but the pools are deep – really deep. It’s like the Hughes River in Virginia, but on steroids. This is bigger and more powerful. Sometimes it sounds like an airplane. Cicadas added to the sounds, which can be eerie in the relative darkness. Once the sun lit everything up, the mood of the hollow changed. Pretty in dim light, it is gorgeous in sunlight. Plunging down the mountain into deep, clear pools that were sometimes blue, framed by bright, white 3-foot waterfalls.

Looking up the stream, I recalled a quote from Fly-Fishing The Great Smoky Mountains, “ I could look up the stream and see where I would be in an hour.” I was fishing from the right side of the stream, which means I had to cast back-handed. I am not as accurate that way, and it’s tiring, but I was doing OK. I used a hopper, blue wing olive, a mayfly, a something-or-other and a Wulff and caught one 10-inch rainbow on the first cast with the Wulff.

I was surprised to see so many hikers walking up the mountain. It looked like half the campground were hiking this morning, and why not? It is a spectacular fall day. Several waved as they passed. One group took a picture of me casting into a beautiful pool. I didn’t notice any fishermen walk past, although you can’t be looking around while fishing this stream. I fell one time, but fortunately didn’t hurt myself or the rod. By 1:30 I was spent. If I was catching fish, I would have continued. It took me about an hour to get back to camp.

After some rest, I thought I should replace that drain cock since I was at 6% in the water tank. I removed two screws and pulled, twisted and pried, but it would not come out of the hose. Finally I broke it off and drilled out the rest. There was a hose inside the tank and it had a tightened metal ring around it. There was also a spring inside! Now how the heck did they do that, and why? I managed to remove the ring, but I should have slid it back on the hose. I put the new drain cock on, but would it hold without the tightening ring. If I had internet, I would have looked up how to replace this thing and learned how this tank works.

I patched two leaks that I could see, hooked up and went to the dump station to dump and fill up with water. Maybe at least I would just have a slow leak. Two wet tracks followed me back to my campsite – not a good sign. I poured a glass of wine, took a shower and shaved. I had already lost half of the water, although I hadn’t filled the tank completely. I filled a few bottles of water and the coffee pot, sure I wouldn’t have water in the morning. My guess is the hose, under pressure, popped off the drain cock, so all these leaks I have might be intentionally placed drain holes. There must be something else inside holding the water.

Bradley Fork, Cherokee, NC, Fishing, Fresh water tank leak, Great Smoky Mountains National Park, North Carolina, Repairs, Smokemont Campground, NC

Errands in The Great Smoky Mountains National Park

by Greg • October 12, 2021 • 0 Comments

Friday, September 24, 2021

47° at 3:00AM

As I lay in bed, slowly waking up, I thought it unlikely the fresh water tank was leaking in two places, although possible with all the bumps and jolts I give it driving rough highways at 70 mph. At Highland Haven, I had trouble closing the drain cock after draining the tank so I could fill with fresh water. I had to use a screw driver to leverage it. Maybe I cracked it, or maybe it was just worn out. At any rate, it appears to be a simple thing to replace. If it still leaks and is the tank that’s leaking, I may have to go to Charlotte to get it replaced.

I went into Cherokee with a list. Call Martha was first. I wasn’t sure she was getting the InReach satellite messages, as reception here is spotty. It’s an easy 15 minute drive into Cherokee. Martha was doing fine, playing tennis and going to the UVA football game tonight. I told her about the leaking fresh water tank.

I went to an auto parts store in Cherokee. The plug for my forward-facing video camera had come apart, so I was looking for the parts that screw into the end of a plug that goes in the cigarette lighter. I consider this an essential piece of equipment. If I am in an accident pulling an expensive trailer with an expensive truck, I want evidence to show what happened. Since I have already had one expensive issue, the insurance would probably drop me if I had another.

A very nice gentleman said he didn’t have anything like that, but if I was going that way, there is a Walmart in Sylva, with several auto parts stores near it. I was going that way anyway, to Fallin’s RV Repair for a water tank drain cock, wishfully thinking the leak was coming from a faulty drain cock. This was a busy, little place with RVs in every available place to park. There was one man inside the small store. He was serving one customer while he talked on the phone to another. I wandered up and down the isles looking for a drain cock. I turned to a voice asking, “Can I help you find something?” He went right to it. There were two designs, so I bought both and thanked him. As he checked me out, he answered the phone, while another man came in. How he kept his pleasant demeanor through all this, I don’t know.

Now on to Sylva, about 17 miles away. I thought my GPS was taking me a crazy route, winding my way around this old railroad town, but that’s just the way it is. As I headed to Walmart, I envisioned walking around there for an hour looking for something they probably didn’t have. I spotted an auto parts store…… and turned left across busy traffic.

Three service people were helping customers, so I started wandering around when a kind female voice said, “Can I help you?” I showed her the screw and cap, telling her what they went to. She went right to the electrical isle and scanned plugs, selecting one, asking, “Will this do it?” Staring at it while rearranging my mind, I thought all I needed was the button. Then I looked at the price tag – $6. I smiled and answered, “Yes, thank you very much.”

Walking to the truck, I looked at the plug with two wires coming out of it. OK, I would have to cut my wire and connect these. I can do that, I thought. Staring at it in the truck, I realized I could just unscrew the end, take the button and put it into mine. I headed back to camp, optimistic I was going to solve both problems. Just out of Cherokee, I stopped at a pullover beside the Oconaliftee River. There is a well-traveled foot path beside the river. Across the river I saw three fishermen beside a huge pool. In the reservation, they stock the river with trout. Entering the park, cars were pulled over next to a big field where elk grazed.

After eating some lunch, I decided to go fishing for a couple of hours. I didn’t have time to go far, so I started at the end of the campground where Bradley Fork comes into the campground. I got in at a beautiful pool. Fishing a hopper, nothing was interested, so I started for the next pool. Someone was standing in the middle of it.

I walked up the road, heading up the mountain. I gave him what I thought was enough room to fish the next two hours and got in at another beautiful pool. Having no luck, I changed to a Royal Wulff. No luck. After fishing a gorgeous pool without moving a fish, I changed to a nymph. No luck, so I changed to a big streamer. No luck. I was changing again when the young fisherman who I thought I had given enough room, camp tromping past asking if I had any luck. I shook my head. I think he said he was doing well, but I couldn’t hear over the roaring river.

Bradley Fork is a beautiful trout stream – big, powerful, crystal clear water still flowing hard after the rains. Sometimes I heard airplanes flying over. Sometimes it was the river making a similar sound. Cicadas were also singing their mating song. Frustrated after a few more pools, I decided to head back. It was Friday afternoon, and two more fishermen passed me, going up the mountain. Then I saw two fishing their way up. What’s it going to be like on Saturday?