Tuesday, May 16
I do exercises every morning for my back stenosis, and I’ve been having knee and hip issues (arthritis), so the physical therapist has assigned me a lot more. So early morning is a production for me, even more so on the road. But I eventually got down to breakfast with Sarah and coffee, and explored what we could do that day.
The Ranger who had given us some great tips on Monday had also mentioned the Grotto Falls on the Trillium Gap Trail, apparently because of where we were staying. This is on a driving loop trail from Gatlinburg, near the hotel, and we realized we could do that loop and maybe hike down to the falls that morning, depending on what time it was when we got there, and still have time for other stops on our way to South Carolina.
BIG MISTAKE!!! Do not commit to the Fork Motor Nature Trail unless you want to eat your liver out. We waved a few cars in front of us at the beginning of that trail, initially enchanted by the mosses and ferns. But then we caught up to those same cars and we followed them in a line of brake lights for the next 10 miles.
The road wound up 5 miles or so to the Trillium Gap Trail (parking lots full at 9AM on a Tuesday so we didn’t stop), and then 5 miles down back into town. There were some beautiful woodside moments all right and Sarah took some pictures, but we were in a fucking line of traffic! I have no idea how many cars there were in front of me or behind me, or whether those are rational numbers. We probably averaged under 5MPH for that 10-mile section. At times people were turning off their cars and getting out while (e.g.) a huge mini-van dispersed everyone on a particular turn, so they could take selfies and panoramas of the woods that might hold bears (not).
Well, there were some good moments there but we’d just wasted a couple of hours. We drove back through town, being careful not to run over any distracted Gatlinburg pedestrians in our rush to get out of there. We stopped at a gas station, and let me digress to say that there wasn’t really much difference in gas prices in all of the 13 states we visited. I realized it would be more of an effort than it would be worth it to try to psych out where to refill, we just let the tank run down to a quarter or so and that dictated where we got gas. I didn’t feel ripped off at any of the stations, particularly, though many places disguised their actual credit prices.
OK, we entered GSMNP for the last(?) time, stopped at Sugarlands VC for a day parking voucher, and then headed Southeast for the heights of the park, up to the North Carolina border. At the crest of the ridge of the Smokies is a big junction of the borders of TN and NC and the AT (Appalachian Trail). This is Newfound Gap, and again, the crowds had preceded us there.
The weather hadn’t bothered us much on the driving trail that morning, but was unsettled. By the time we got up to Newfound Gap there seemed to be a little electricity in the air, and the clouds were starting to swirl through the gap at 5000 feet. We were lucky to get a prime parking spot (the lot was full and cars were circling), but gave it up soon as it turned out. After climbing their monument with a hundred psyched people of various sorts, and several AT hikers who wanted to check it off in their personal records, we decided to opt out. The flagstones were loose, the walkways were packed, kids and strollers were everywhere, and we got out of there before there was an accident … or a lightning strike.
Where we were headed was Clingmans Dome, the summit of the Park, but we expected that the thunderstorms would get there before we did. And we figured there’d be a whole lot of people up there too, and we were right.
It was a beautiful drive up to the peak at 6643 feet, though the clouds were threatening and the fog was closing in, and we didn’t really get there. Conifers dominated the creases in the mountains, like they hadn’t down below, and so it was a new shade of green. I swear we weren’t that far away from thunderstorm weather, though a Ranger was telling people that the electricity wouldn’t start until that afternoon.
We got a space in the huge parking lot, one of the only ones left. We were psyched and geared up, we were going to hike up to Clingman’s Dome and the observation platforms there. But so were many other people of various body shapes and sizes, it was like the Laurel Falls trail the other day, even worse. Did these people not realize that the current fog and the imminent lightning might detract seriously from their visit? I have to say, we realized that, short of being oblivious to the weather, many people just didn’t care. They were going to go to Clingmans Dome for better or worse, goldarnit, and hopefully snap some selfies when they got there. I really admired the spirit (the gift shop was doing a brisk business selling sweatshirts and raincoats to the unprepared people clad in sandals and t-shirts), but Sarah and I, after going a few hundred yards up the crowded trail and realizing it would not be a nature experience, decided to head back to the car. Actually, she went to the small VC and I went to the port-a-potty lines.
Back at the car I cracked the bag of Doritos and sat there on the back hatch, watching the clouds (which suddenly seemed less threatening) and eating Doritos while waiting for Sarah. Thus, to several groups of tourists from various States, I was the enduring symbol of Clingman’s Dome as they exited the parking lot. One driver yelled at his wife, “Hey! He’s eating Doritos. We shoulda brought some.” I thought about flipping him off, but instead just smiled and gave him a big shrug, like it was a TV commercial and he was the loser.
So, back in the car and we shot down from Clingmans Dome, now in North Carolina rather than Tennessee, on the Newfound Gap Road, headed for the Oconaluftee VC. We thought we might find a little more space in the North Carolina part of the Park. The trees and the whole feel were different as we descended mile and miles of switchbacks down the Southeast side of the Appalachians. Finally we got down to the Oconaluftee Valley and to the genteel VC … only to find very few spaces there and have it be crawling with people!
We were dying to stop somewhere nice for a PB&J lunch out of our ice chest, but there weren’t any picnic tables there and the crowds and sudden heat from the bright day (no storm clouds in this valley) were oppressive. We had planned to go from there back to the Blue Ridge Parkway after lunch, but instead we gave up on the VC immediately and got back on the road Southeast. In a few hundred yards were signs to turn off for the Parkway, we were the only car to do so and suddenly we were back in a beautiful and deserted world.
GSMNP has some great strengths, and we loved the largeness of it, the secret trail we’d experienced, the raging Little River, and the knowledge that there were plenty of other discoveries there. But golly, did they have a lot of people enjoying the Park. This is the audience the NPS is chartered to serve … Americans … and they were doing a great job of it, and we think this is admirable. We also love the “preserve” part of the Antiquities Act and were delighted to see attempts at preservation in GSMNP. But that Park was not for us because of its scale and popularity.
The funny thing was, when we turned onto the Parkway it was like we’d gone through a portal to a different world. We pulled over as soon as possible, at the Oconaluftee River Overlook, and were pretty much across the river from the Oconaluftee VC, which had been packed and frantic while our overlook was deserted, and much quieter. We had a fine lunch, looking up at the steep mountains to our West.
Time to gush about the Blue Ridge Parkway again. We got on at the South terminus, but even though we were “Northbound” on the Parkway, the road headed South and East for another forty miles or so. And these miles were as glorious as those we’d traveled on the other end of the Blue Ridge. We stopped at a lot of overlooks and just drank in the views of the rolling mountains, the parades of Springtime green up to the high elevations, and the incredible afternoon light, perhaps made more dramatic by the dark clouds on the mountains we were leaving behind. We stopped at the highest point on the Blue Ridge at 6053 feet.
We’d been living in world of people and Interstate highways for several days, and were exhilarated to be free of that, in arguably a more lovely environment. We were up on the ridge, looking South and East to the Qualla Boundary of the Eastern Cherokee. We must have stopped at a dozen overlooks and the average “other car” number there must have been about 0.5. The road itself was mostly a solitary experience, though there were spotty packs of motorcyclists and a good number of sports cars. Some people were out there for a fast cruise around the dramatic corners rather than a leisurely drive, but it all worked.
We got all the way up to the Pisgah Inn area soon after the highest point, and soon after the Looking Glass Rock Overlook [https://www.nps.gov/places/looking-glass-rock-overlook.htm] and then realized that we’d missed our exit. No reception for the Google Lady up there. In some ways we wanted to follow the Blue Ridge all the way back to Waynesboro (wait a minute!), but in other ways we knew we needed to jump off and head due South, like now. We suddenly didn’t have a lot of time to get to our destination of Spartanburg SC.
We turned off the Parkway onto route 276, going down and down and down past the Cradle of Forestry site, in the middle of Pisgah National Forest. This was an incredible rush of the season getting further and further along as we descended, and the sun getting brighter and brighter as the afternoon progressed. We just had to stop at the Looking Glass Rock Scenic Area, where there’s a spectacular falls right off the road. We walked up to the falls, snapped a few pix, and then took off again, along route 64 in the depths of furthest Southwest North Carolina.
Serendipity struck again, and there was a supermarket on the route, just when we needed it. We got beer, cider, and water, figuring that our stock of PB&J would hold up. Soon after that it was back on Interstate 26 Southeast, eventually into South Carolina, and after many more miles than expected, we pulled into the Residence Inn by Marriott. According to the front desk clerk, this was the original “residence inn.” The rooms were actually suites, upstairs and downstairs in densely packed townhouses surrounding a common pool and recreation area. We got a suite with a kitchen and a full-sized refrigerator. Too bad we were only there for a night because we liked the place and could have gotten more dishes dirty. And we only had a few things to put in the refrigerator.
The bad news was that there was really nowhere better to eat dinner than at the Cracker Barrel across the parking lot. We made the best of a bad situation though and had a nice dinner at Cracker Barrel, with a Budweiser and a Bundaberg ginger beer. They cook everything there very delicately, and use tasteless ingredients, and this is very successful. Their aim seems to be to offend no one’s palate, which ideal was worth experiencing once.
Seemed like we drove a lot more than the odometer said, but the final reading that day was 174 miles, many of them winding up and down mountain roads.
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