Sharing Boyhood Memories......Walden's Ridge

Walden's Ridge

I was born and raised at the foot of Walden’s Ridge in the small town of Harriman.  The East Tennessee Land Company’s original incorporation document states, “It was ordained by nature that a town should be,” and so it was that in 1890 the town was founded.  The town was built in a wonderful natural topographic niche, carved into the landscape by a large crescent in the Emory River and bounded by Walden’s Ridge rising several hundred feet on the city’s northern border.  Walden’s Ridge extends some seventy-nine miles as it forms the southern and eastern edges of the Cumberland Plateau in its drop to meet the greater Tennessee River Valley.

From the time I was about twelve years old, Walden’s Ridge took on a special appeal for me and my buddies.  It became a mountain we could conquer on an easy Saturday or Sunday hike.  In the years of my youth, the mountain was basically undeveloped and uninhabited and even today only three homes, cell phone towers and a water tank sit atop the ridge.  From my home in the middle of town it was only a short hike to the top, but the ridge provided a feeling of remoteness, isolation and independence.  It provided just enough challenge and danger to fulfill the adventuresome spirit of young boys.   Sitting atop the ridge, a twelve year old boy’s imagination could take flight and you could well have been in some remote and unexplored forest of the early American frontier. 

You could reach the crest of the ridge by an old road that passed the city’s concrete water reservoir or you could hike straight up the mountain over the rocks, boulders, scrubby vegetation and trees.  From the top you had excellent views of all of downtown Harriman and views beyond toward Kingston and Oak Ridge.  As you walked a short distance west along the ridge, the elevation dropped quickly to a natural gap formed by the Emory River.  From Walden Ridge’s western edge, the view of the river was especially enjoyable and you could hear the sounds of cars far below as they climbed through the gap on the Oakdale Highway, U.S. Highway 27.  You could also see the Louisville & Nashville railroad tracks as they followed the river north and the trestle as it carried the rails across the river toward the west.

One of our favorite destinations on this end of the ridge was an outcropping of massive boulders called “Balance Rock.”  One massive boulder appeared to be “balanced” on other smaller rocks and in the imagination of young minds, it might be possible to dislodge this boulder and send it rolling down the mountain to the river.  I think there were times when we used large pieces of downed trees and limbs to try and pry the rock off its base.  What a catastrophe it would have been if we’d succeeded.  The rock is still unmoved and sets there today.   I’ve passed a considerable amount of time sitting atop “Balance Rock” watching the river, the railroad, and enjoying the sounds rolling up from the gap below.

My buddies and I were born during the years of WW II and remember the Korean conflict as well.  The Saturday movies were often accompanied by newsreel shorts of American soldiers in distant lands.  Combat themed movies were common in the 1950s and American soldiers such as Audie Murphy were portrayed as hero figures.  We also knew men in the community who were veterans from WW II.  They sometimes shared stories of their travel and adventures as combat veterans.  Thus, it was natural for us to play war games and “do combat” as we climbed the slopes of Walden’s Ridge.  Some of us would be the “enemy” and others would be the “American” good guys.  The object would be to scatter into the rocks and woods, take positions and then try to capture the other side.  We didn’t have paintball guns or other toy weapons, but used sticks and made vocal sound effects for the gun shots and lobbed a pine cone or stick as a hand grenade.  All this sounds primitive in light of today’s high tech toys, but it worked for us.  As we got older, we began carrying BB and pellet guns with us and used them for plinking at cans and bottles found along the way.  In later teen years we had 22 caliber single shot rifles that were used for target practice.  I never recall having any problems and no one ever “got shot.”

Hiking east along Walden’s Ridge provided other adventures.  There were a few long abandoned mines that had collapsed and caved in.  And we were always finding interesting metal objects, cables and other remnants of logging operations from years past. There were small springs at various points down to one side or other of the ridge.  These provided a cool drink of fresh water on a hot summer day.  I can never remember carrying a canteen back then and bottled water was not yet common place. 

Another favorite destination was to hike the approximate three miles to the state fire tower.  The tower was only manned during the fall “fire season” and access to the stairs was generally blocked by a locked wooden door and fencing.  Once or twice I made the climb to the top when a fire warden was present and looked out from the small lookout box with windows that housed the map and Osborne azimuth for spotting “smokes,” as the fire warden called them.  At other times when the tower was unmanned, boys are prone to taking risk and someone would climb around the gate and make their way to the stairs and climb to the base of the lookout box.  The trap door giving access to the box was always padlocked, but the view from the top of the stairs was still better than one from the ground.

Sometimes on the hike back toward town we’d split up with one or two boys going ahead and setting up an ambush for those who followed.  What made the whole thing fun for those who came second was to be alert and try to identify where the ambush might take place and try to avoid it.  Better yet, you could drop off the side of the crest, skirt around and surprise those who were hidden and awaiting your arrival on the trail.   Sometimes we’d jog or run the entire three miles back to town to see how fast we could make it or simply to meet a time deadline if we’d spent too much time playing and exploring along the ridge top.

One of my buddies who I’ve known all my life remained in Harriman, worked at nearby Oak Ridge and built his home on the crest of Walden’s Ridge. His is one of the three homes that exist there today and he has a splendid view of Harriman and the entire area.  Whenever I return to Harriman I make it a point to drive up to his home for a visit with him and his wife.  In all honesty, I’d have to admit that the visit also gives me a chance to revive old memories of youthful days spent on Walden’s Ridge.  Today, even with three houses and cell towers, you still get a sense of remoteness and isolation when you're atop Walden's Ridge.

 

The challenge, danger and mystery experienced by a teenage boy on Walden's Ridge are long gone.  But I have to admit, every time I drive the paved road to the top, the urge to hike out to Balance Rock or to hike along the ridge trail still pricks at my seventy something bones.  Those boyhood days spent on Walden's Ridge will always remain some of my fondest memories.