RECOVERING NATURE--Trip 2

"Isn't it amazing! It's snowing in California and here in Tennessee we're going to have summer today," said Andy, as we drove back to the other side of the mountains. He had chosen two waterfall hikes on the North Carolina side of Smoky Mountain National Park.

Outside the local school in Cherokee, a mature male elk with eight or ten points, rubbed against a tree, displaying his antlers in all directions. His behavior drew a crowd of tourist onlookers. I read later that velvet, the highly vascular skin on antlers, rubs off as the antlers turn from cartilage to bone. Male elk use their antlers to compete behaviorally and physiologically in displays of strength and fertility to access mates. This one must have been practicing; he had only tourists watching.

"Wow! Look at the difference in gas here," remarked Andy, as we drove back through Cherokee. Here in North Carolina stations asked $3.349; thirty miles away in Tennessee we paid $3.089.
Damage caused by the balsam woolly adelgid, a tiny insect imported from Europe, was evident as we crossed the Gap. What had been Fraser fir stands on the mountainsides stood gaunt like collections of giant toothpicks. During the last 30 years, more than 70 percent of the mature fir trees in the park have been killed by the adelgid. Just as damaging is the hemlock woolly adelgid, an Asian import that the National Park Service fights with insecticidal soaps, ground treatments, and a tiny predator beetle with a voracious appetite for adelgids. In spite of governmental efforts, we noticed lots of dying hemlock trees.

Andy planned a loop walk from Deep Creek Trailhead. In two and a half hours we traced a five-mile path along Juney Whank Falls Trail (.6 mile) to Deep Creek Trail (2.4 miles) to Indian Creek Trail (.8 mile) to the return Loop (1.2 miles). Deep Creek and Indian Creek cut deep, narrow swatches between the hills. "We haven't had a walk yet that didn't take us uphill," said Andy. This one was no exception. Wooden bridges crisscrossed the creek beds. Ahead of us squirrels dashed for black walnuts that had fallen on the trail; colored leaves accented hillsides that were blanketed with always green rhododendron.

A group of riders on horseback passed us, and by 11:30 a.m. multiple pairs of hikers, many with ski poles or hiking sticks, headed uphill as we made our way back down to the car. "Either you are getting much better or last night's wine didn't affect you," complimented Andy. "I didn't hear heavy breathing behind me in the treks uphill today."
We stopped for a late lunch snack at the Oconaluftee River Picnic Area. I read a couple of pamphlets about invasive species and black bears. "Did you know that bears can see in color?" I asked Andy. The pamphlet said that 1,600 black bears inhabit Smoky Mountain National Park, about two per acre. They are excellent swimmers, adept tree climbers and capable runners, clocking as much as 30 m.p.h.
By 2:00 p.m. on our drive back, parking slots at every pullout were taken and roadside stops crammed with walkers and picture takers. "It's good," said Andy. "It's crowded, but it's good. It shows people use and appreciate our national parks."

"And I doubt many of the folks here are from other countries," I told him. "These are mostly residents from adjoining states, probably extended weekenders, appreciating the beauty of the mountains in fall."

At 5:00 p.m. the thermometer read 82 degrees. It felt even hotter. We had visited three wineries: Mountain Valley (5 samples), Apple Barn (15 samples), and Hillside (12 samples). The Rocky Top Wine Trail rocked! We drove the Strip again: Jesus Saves General Store, Exotic Petting Zoo, Chocolate Monkey, Smoky Mountain Speed Park, Huck Finn's Catfish, Taste of Tennessee Funnel Cakes, Rocky Top Leather, Psychic and Christian House, Dixie Stampede. The Pigeon Forge Parkway had it all... mile after mile of every tourist's wish, dream and nightmare. We settled for Pilot gas at $3.079 a gallon. and dinner at La Carreta.
We completed the Fighting Creek Nature Trail at 7:15 p.m., almost dark, especially since it was surrounded by forest. Since 1935, when the farmland was purchased to become part of the park, the trees have reclaimed the valley and obscured the human history.
One remaining point of evidence was stop #3, John Ownby's cabin, built of tulip tree wood and white pine. A side trail took us to Cataract Falls, only a dribble on this dry October evening. The pictures came out fuzzy. I didn't have a tripod, and the camera was set on one second to let in enough light. I couldn't hold it steady enough for a decent shot.

"This will probably be the last time in our lives we ever hike in Smoky Mountain National Park," said Andy, and I couldn't get one last picture. It was a sad thought.