Silver Cliche' here again, writing to you tonight (Monday, Labor Day 2015) from Smokemont Campground inside the Great Smoky National Park.
We have stepped back in time. Here at Smokemont (which is a federal government run facility on federal land) things are different than at most state or private campgrounds. Just as in Yellowstone, there is no electricity, no running water and... prepare yourselves... no cell phone service and therefore no internet here. We are living like Abe Lincoln in his early days in Kentucky. If it wasn't for our home on wheels, I'd be reduced to writing this blog entry on the back of a shovel using bits of charcoal from the cold fire pit. As it is, we have 40 gallons of fresh water, an aluminum roof over our heads, two gi-normous car batteries for the lights and such, 50 lbs of propane for heating and cooking, two generators if we need them, hot and cold running water and our iPads. But except for that, it's just like the frontier here.
Just like I predicted last night, we woke up today ready to move on from Lake Lanier and see more of America. By 10:00 we were packed, hitched, loaded with fresh water, empty of the not-so-fresh (maybe one day I'll write about that process... on second thought, maybe not... and I certainly won't write about the technique we saw practiced by the fellow at the dump station ahead of us this morning... if you meet up with him, all I can say is DON'T SHAKE HIS HANDS!... just nod and say "hey"... as I've shared before, Mrs. C' and I love seeing America... watching Americans is not always as inspiring). Anyway, we were off!
As we headed north-northeast from Lake Lanier, the Atlanta influence faded fast. Within 10 minutes or so we were back in nondescript Georgia countryside. Pretty enough. It's a lot like the nondescript countryside near where you live provided you are east of the Mississippi. We know that because of the number of times Mrs. C' and I have looked at each other and said "Doesn't this look just like _______________?" Even though the comparative place may be 500 or 1,000 miles away. Rural north Georgia looks like that. We set the GPS to Tallulah George State Park which was a simple 75 minute drive. We got there quickly and learned that our Whole Foods stop yesterday near Atlanta was preparation for Tallulah George on Labor Day. It was so crowded that the guy collecting the parking fees took one look at our rig (we are 48' long nose to tail, 8'6" wide, 9'6" tall and weigh 13,500 lbs) and he said "I don't think you'll find a place to park. I'm not going to charge you."
Clearly, he underestimated the determination of Mrs. C' and me. We advanced steadily toward the parking lot. We were not dismayed by the fact that Smart cars and Fiat 500s that are 1/4 our length 1/2 our width and 1/10th our weight had given up hope of finding striped pavement marked for them and were parked on the grass along both sides of the road leaving the park. We pressed on. Fortunately our towing mirrors are taller than most cars parked there, which allowed us to navigate the gauntlet of passenger vehicles while doing no damage to them our our aluminum skin. When we got to the parking area, voila' a single spot marked "Bus and RV Parking Only" waited for us. The other three spots marked that way were double parked with cars. Aside from us, there was not a bus or RV in the place (cowards!). The grass beside our reserved space was parked with cars (once I pulled in, one of those poor bastards was not getting out... I wondered how proud of himself he'd feel once he realized that his illegal parking job only worked so long as a legal parker didn't come by to exercise his rights in the RV spot). Anyhow, we leashed the dogs and headed to the gorge! What a zoo! Within ten minutes we realized that a.) significant hiking was involved to see the good stuff b.) dogs were not allowed on the trails or in the visitors center and c.) the same people who messed up the parking were now busily messing up the scenery. We returned to the rig (heck... it hadn't cost us anything to park... it wasn't like we were throwing away a perfectly good investment). I can tell you this: From a distance, Talulah Falls sounds fantastic! On to our next stop... Franklin, North Carolina!
I mentioned last night that Mrs. C's late father had a cabin in Franklin. We never saw it, but he waxed nostalgic about it in the years between his selling the place and his demise. I get the sense that owning a cabin in the mountains is a lot like owning a boat... or a travel trailer. The purpose is to build memories. The actual ownership and maintenance experience often leaves something to be desired. So, we headed to Franklin to see what it was about. We had even picked a lunch spot with the help of TripAdvisor.com. Half way to Franklin we were struck by an amazing site (after almost striking a lady in a Grand Marquis who had suddenly turned in front of us then stopped when she realized the entrance she had chosen to a gas station was over a gutter that she could only traverse at 2 MPH. I'm not sure whether she was concerned about shaking up her bouffant hair or her bad back, but if I hadn't hit the breaks hard she would have been using the front passenger door handle to clean her right ear... but thanks to 8 sets of brakes, that didn't happen to her.). Where was I? Oh... on the road to Franklin being struck by a vision... it was a three story timber frame barn that was surrounded by heaps and piles of house parts and that bore a huge sign saying "Architectural Salvage". Well... we have been looking for some ornamental iron to use as gates around our home in Vero. There is not much ornamental iron salvaged in our part of Florida, but this certainly would be the place that would have it. We tossed out the plans to see Franklin, did a U turn and pulled up on the side of US 441 on a wide shoulder and opened the trailer to have lunch before looking for gates. After all, you can't enter a salvage yard on an empty stomach! Well, they had lots of shutters, doors, table legs, recent lighting from Asia and such... but no suitable gates.
Between Talulah George, Franklin and the salvage barn we had had enough adventure for the day. We headed to Smokemont Campground and somewhere along the way passed out of the connected world of the Internet and back to our roots as pioneers. I can't say precisely when that happened but it was near Cherokee, NC. There is a detail about Cherokee that is unique in our travels and caught me by surprise. As we entered town, I noticed that the signs on public buildings described what they were in common terms and language (library, fire station, etc.) and had an additional line of text at the bottom using characters I had never seen before. WTH? At least Spanish or other languages use the same alphabet as English... so it wasn't that. I'm also familiar with Asian characters and this writing was not Chinese, Japanese or Korean, either. I finally concluded that Cherokee must have adopted a sister city in... oh.... maybe Nepal and in a show of solidarity had added Nepalese descriptions to their signs. That theory held for at least 90 seconds until we passed a building whose architecture was clearly Native American and whose sign had these unfamiliar characters at the top and in large text with the English words "Tribal Offices" below. Ohhhhhh... I get it! The town of Cherokee was home to the Cherokee tribe before the US Army made its best effort to move every last one of them on foot to Oklahoma. That wasn't Nepalese or Burmese or Vietnamese or any of the other "-ese" languages. That was written Cherokee. It was a moving realization and a testament to the people who kept the language alive and displayed it proudly in Cherokee, NC.
Tomorrow it's up and over the Smokies. I said in an earlier post that we would visit the highest point in the Eastern US at Clingmans Dome. In fact, it's the highest point in the Smokies and the highest point in Tennessee. The highest point in the east is 20 or 30 miles from here in NC. I think it's Mt. Mitchell. I'd look it up on the Internet for you... but you'll have to do that for yourself from your cozy spot in civilization.
Later...
SC'
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