Elk River Tennessee Canoe Run

A version of this article originally appeared in the Huntsville Times.

My son was itching for a day away with Dad.  I needed a short trip somewhere out of the city for a few hours of adventure and fun, a little father-son bonding time.  Besides, it was hot in the city, a typical Tennessee Valley summer day and we needed to head for somewhere cool to beat the oppressive heat.  So we loaded up our canoe and headed for southern Tennessee and the Elk River.

An hour later after a drive through the scenic hills of Lincoln County, we were sipping a cold drink on a well-worn bench inside Kelso Canteen and Canoe Rental in Kelso, Tennessee.  We were looking for an easy half-day paddle and Cole Hereford, the proprietor of the canteen pulled a well-worn map out from under the counter.  He laid the map out on a counter and showed us a run that would begin with our launch at Shiloh Bridge, a popular access point, and take us nine miles downstream to Stump Shoals.  Hereford suggested this run as an easy outing that would take four to six hours to paddle, depending on our ambition (or lack thereof).  “Take the run to the right when you get to Dickey Island,” he advised, “The river is narrower but it’s prettier on the right.”

 

Hereford had agreed to drive us to the launch point and then shuttle our car to the Stump Shoals takeout.  As we drove our car to the river, I asked him if we needed to worry about rapids.   “This is an easy run.”  he assured us,  “You don’t need to worry about rapids.”  I had second thoughts about this statement after he had dropped us off and we launched our canoe into the river.  I had barely set foot into the stern when the swift current grabbed the bow of the canoe and swung it around in a quick arc.  Surely this brisk current would mean rapids.  He also forgot to mention how chilly the water was.  The water flows out of the bottom of the dam that forms Tims Ford Lake near Lynchburg, Tennessee, and the deep lake prevents the sun from warming the discharge—a fact that quickly became apparent when the cold water lapped around our ankles.

 

We had barely dipped our paddles into the clear ripples when we spied a fly-fisherman near a gravel bar on the far side of the river.  Hereford had mentioned that the Elk supports a healthy population of trout and smallmouth bass.  We stopped to chat and check on fishing activity.  “No luck so far” he reported “but I sure wish I had brought my waders. This water is COLD!”   We were looking for a respite from the heat and we had found it.  The cold water and the hot summer air mixed to form a wispy mist that hung over the water in the stillness, reflecting rays of sunlight through the leafy cover of the overhanging trees.  The air was cool and refreshing.

 

The Elk River flows through the hills of southern Tennessee and into Alabama, where it meets the Tennessee River near Rogersville.  Between Tims Ford and the Alabama border, the Elk is a forest‑lined, free‑running stream that provides a refreshing, leisurely float.  The stretch of river below the dam to Fayetteville offers over 30 miles of undisturbed river bordered by pretty southern Tennessee scenery, lots of wildlife, and numerous small farms.  The land is hilly and rural, with a few small towns nearby.  The water flows clear and clean and the river is narrow and shallow most of the way—although some deep pools form in the river bends.  Wooded banks reach to the very edge of the water and the sky overhead is often barely glimpsed through overhanging branches.  We encountered frequent gravel bars where we could beach our canoe and get out to stretch our legs.  Most of the river is edged by twenty-to-thirty-foot bluffs of rocky ledges stair-stepping from the river to the forest above. A couple of hours into our trip we came across a boggy branch that was barely seeping into the river.  The pebble-strewn ground appeared to be covered with a bright  blue and yellow quilt.  As we paddled closer we saw hundreds of butterflies--tiny bright blue one and swarms of large yellow ones—resting in the bright mid-day sun.  They flitted around our heads as we approached in a magical cloud of color. 

 

Paddling the Elk is a lazy way to spend a summer afternoon.  Our concerns about the swiftness of the river were put to rest.  Turns out Hereford was right, there were no rapids to upset us, just occasional gentle ripples—but also enough current to keep us from having to paddle too hard.  Just right for a slow-moving summer day.    

 
 

 The heat had driven other refuge seekers to the Elk and in our four hours of paddling, we frequently waved to other canoeists on the water.  But the Elk is never overrun with rowdy crowds of floaters.  Our weekend run was typical.  As we lazily floated through a tunnel of hickory and sycamore trees, a white-tailed deer trotted across a shallow shoal thirty yards ahead of us.  Her flanks were outlined by the morning sun behind her, highlighting her tawny coat and turning the splashing water into a shower of diamonds.  I looked around to see if other canoes were sharing the sight, but we were alone with her.

Oh, and Hereford was right about going to the right at Dickey Island, too.  It’s the prettiest part of the river.

Kelso Canteen and Canoe Rental is located seven miles east of Fayetteville on Highway 64.  The number is 800-933-2827.  Canoe rentals, shuttles, and campsites are available.  Elk River Canoe Rentals also provides canoe rentals and shuttles at 931-937-6886.

This a serene run below Tims Ford is quiet and relatively unused.  The thirty-mile stretch from the dam to Fayetteville is narrow and shallow, with wooded banks reaching to the very edge of the water and the sky overhead often barely glimpsed through overhanging branches, the Elk flows over gentle ripples and through calm pools.  The dam above and the backwaters of the Tennessee River below do not affect the ageless flow of the river here.

A canoe rental operation provides access to the river so the chances are good that you will see other canoeists on the water during the summer, but the Elk is never overrun with rowdy crowds of floaters.  A late summer run we made down the Elk is typical of the river's character.  Lazily floating through a tunnel of  hickory and sycamore trees, we were casting for smallmouth bass when a whitetailed deer trotted across the river through a small riffle thirty yards ahead of us.  Her flanks were outlined by the summer sun behind her, highlighting her tawny coat and turning the splashing water into a shower of diamonds.  I looked around to see if other canoes were sharing the sight, but we were alone with her.