Cummings Bottom

Brady had texted that he wanted to visit the Natural Bridge so after picking him up I headed for Lookout. Actually, he had meant the natural bridge in Prentice Cooper, but didn't protest too much so on we went.

On the way up Scenic Highway I couldn't resist pulling over at the curve near the Sky Harbor Inn for a quick look at the old roadbed just downhill of the guardrail. According to the timeline I made back in the early 1990s when I knew this kind of stuff, Kelly's Ferry Road (later known as Old Wauhatchie Pike) was "apparently" built in the 1820's over the north shoulder of the mountain. This is the road that is visible in the huge James Walker painting "The Battle of Lookout Mountain" that hangs in the Point Park visitor center. For about a hundred years, until the "new" Wauhatchie Pike (now Cummings Highway) was built in 1912, this was a main route into Chattanooga from the west. The eastern section of road past Sky Harbor is preserved as a greenway (and in fact was still open as a public road when I moved to Chattanooga in 1988) but the section on the northwest side is all but forgotten. Today the old road is simply a surprisingly wide and level swatch of ground in the woods that makes a gracious curve and descends to Cummings Highway at the old Lookout Mountain Tourist Lodge. At that point the modern Cummings Highway obliterates the roadbed.

Curious, we climbed back up to the truck and drove down to check out the old quarry on Cummings Highway. Surprisingly, we did not climb down into the hole itself, something I've never done. There was some trash, but not as much as I expected. It seems that the old quarry, like the old road, is largely forgotten.

Onward, to the Natural Bridge! But first we drove through some of the spacious trailer park across the highway from the Tourist Lodge. it's not a fancy place by any means, but as trailer parks go it is almost scenic, perched on the lower slopes as it is. Noting a favorable position of the sun, we decided to drive over and have a look at Cummings Bottom, where I hoped to climb the hills and get a view that would match that of the Walker painting, and maybe even a photograph or two. The first gate was open, so we drove into the New York monument adjacent to the Interstate and parked. A Park Service sign said "authorized vehicles only," so after examining the monument we continued on foot. The first surprise was an old homesite not far down the gravel path. I am always fascinated by these places. Who lived there? How long ago? Why did they leave? I found some small pieces of broken china near a hole that had been carefully covered up. What was down in that hole? I didn't have a light and so may never know.

We hiked the wide green path of a powerline up the hillside and found a second, abandoned and stripped New York monument. The metal plaques explaining the monuments purpose had been removed (stolen, we guessed). There was no real trail leading to the monument; it simply sat there, lonely and stoic (as monuments tend to be) at the edge of the woods and the power line atop a deserted hill.

Back at the truck, we decided that we really needed to visit the graveyard at the end of the gravel road. I had walked to this site a few years ago, but we were tired and running low on time. Fortunately, Brady had a legal theory which stated that access to graveyards must be provided by law and thus we were authorized to drive the road if the graveyard was our destination. In we went, driving about a half mile through a short tunnel beneath the railroad, past Lookout Creek, arriving at the graveyard only to see we were not alone: three or more wild turkeys were visiting as well.

It was about 6:00 PM by the time we headed back up Lookout for the Natural Bridge, which is on top of the mountain near the "triangle intersection." The parking lot, which had been tiny years ago, was now quite large, and what had been an indistinct path through the woods was now a marked thoroughfare. Indeed, citizens had cleared the entire area (the Natural Bridge Park seems to be about five acres or so) or all underbrush so it was all open space. Walking paths, bridges across the stream, and picnic tables were strategically placed. In a way, it was a shame to have lost some of the mystery of the place by making all the surrounding homes so visible, but on the plus side I could see a lot more of the natural features, too. And yes, the bridge was still there, another stoic monument to be photographed and studied.

It was getting late and we were both tired now. I had thought the Natural Bridge would be a quick and easy thing for us old geezers to tackle, but perhaps we are even older and more feeble than I knew.

Photos to come!