“In” the Smokies.

We spent our last day at the Smokies, literally “in” the Smokies. Just on the fringe of the northern boundary, near Townsend, is the privately run Tuckaleechee Cavern.

After showing Google Maps who was boss, I let it out of “time-out”. Maps contritely showed us the complicated route through a maze of back mountain roads to the Cavern. Now that’s more like it!

It is difficult to give a review of the Tuckaleechee Caverns. We’re used to the professionally run cave tours that state and federal park services operate. Being privately owned and operated, Tuckaleechee was a unique experience.

The ticket office and gift shop was the first tip off. It appeared inviting from the outside, but as soon as you entered, it had that worn, in need of being torn down and replaced look. The ceiling in the bathroom badly sagged from water damage and dry rot.

Our tour guide was a tall skinny kid in bib overhalls. His spiel, although we all knew it was canned and rehearsed, seemed spontaneous—what a likable kid.

As soon as we entered the cave, we saw electric cables haphazardly draped over rocks and bare unattractive lighting fixtures. I knew the management was pure amateur.

The cavern, no matter how hard the owners seemed to cheapen the experience, was filled with natural features unique to this place. An underground river led to an underground waterfalls. An assortment of beautiful formations that Mammoth Cave would have killed for, adorned the cavern in large numbers. Large halls with lush natural reverbs sprung up around several curves. In the largest hall, a lady in our group spontaneosly sang Amazing Grace. Her voice was magical. She brought a tear to my eye. Even the clumsy lighting couldn’t mask the cave’s incredible magnificence.

Another positive, the kid didn’t keep the group regimented like most tour leaders. I was able to lag behind and take all the photos I wanted to. I appreciated that. We were told to expect a 1 1/2 tour. Our tour took well over 2 hours, probably due to my lagging behind. I enjoyed it.

The wiring wasn’t hid very well.

Once deep into the cave, the true beauty revealed itself. The deeper we got the more spectacular it got.

The underground River.

The kid called this formation “Dolly Pardon”.

This woman, with her amazing voice, amazed us with a rendition of Amazing Grace that touched my soul.

After the cavern, we stopped off at the Sinks, a tiny dot labelled on my paper map. I never did figure out why it was named the Sinks. It was a bend in a mountain river that had been dynamited about 100 years ago to break up a log jam. The explosion altered the course of the river, shortening a wide looping oxbow bend into a much shorter 90º turn. The water roared around the turn. Signs warned of dangerous undertows but did not prohibit swimming.

The sinks.

How the Sinks Formed.

There were some nice trails around the Sinks area.

It was time to return to camp and prepare for our departure tomorrow. The week flew by. The weather, for the most part, was near perfect, especially for hiking. We only had one drab day. The only time it rained was during the night. High temperatures ranged from low 50s to low 70s. Nightime lows settled in at the low 30s, although our final night reached a chilly 27º.

The Smokies are an incredible natural resource. Our national parks and national monuments are all treasures. The Smokies rank near the top of the heap.

One last look at the Smokies.

With the centerpiece of our trip completed, it is a good time to take stock of the trip so far. As I see photos of snow back home, I have to smile - we have experienced a good run of decent weather. It may not be tropical, but it has been pleasantly warm with plenty of sunshine.

Kentucky and Tennessee are full of natural beauty. The horse ranches around Nashville, with their long white fencing and giant horse barns are picturesque. The brewpub, distillery, and winery craze has taken hold here like in the rest of America.

We were shocked when, in 2016, we spent November in the Ozarks. Every little town was boarded up, abandoned, and decaying. Not here. There are pockets of rural and small-town poverty, and the junkiness that seems to accompany that poverty. But, most towns seem to be doing alright.

The people have been friendly. We get a kick out of the southern drawl, which is quite different from the New Orleans dialect that we were most familiar with having lived there and Wanda growing up there.

When we started the trip, we were surprised at how many people went back to wearing masks in public buildings. That has reversed. Now we are shocked when we see a person wearing a mask. Even though we got our booster just before leaving on the trip, we still wear our mask when in buildings. It may be overkill, but Tennessee is not a highly vaccinated state.

What scares me the most about COVID, and the part that is under-reported, are the long-haulers. Something like 25% of people that contract COVID end up with serious symptoms that don’t want to go away. We already sacrificed nearly two of our retirement years to this virus. Can you imagine giving up more precious years battling a long-term illness? So, overkill it is.

The parks, both state and national, that we have visited so far have been more crowded then you’d expect for November. In November 2016, the parks in the Ozarks were empty. In one national campground, we were the only camper. They kept the bathrooms heated just for us. Not so anymore. America has been bitten by the RV bug in a big way.

This has been the first trip that we have ever taken that had to be so thoroughly preplanned, including advanced campsite reservations. On the one hand, it was nice to roll into a campground without the anxiety that comes from wondering if a site will be available. But I miss the spontaneity of going with the flow - following the weather, discovering new stuff along the way that sends you off in a different direction than planned, etc. Oh well, it is the times we live in.

Next up, we skim the southern border of Tennessee, starting with Chattanooga and ending up at Shiloh. There, we will winterize V-Jer, break out the parkas, and race home.

Glossary of terms used for newcomers: 1) V-Jer. The name of our camper. 2) Saturn. The name of our Van. 3) Duende. Our mischievous gremlin that breaks things. 4) Tata. The good gremlin that helps us fix Duende’s dirty work. 5) The Black Hole. This is what we call Walmart because every time we go in for just a couple of items, we come out spending way more than we figured. 6) QT. Quaint Town. 7) Little Buddy. This is what we call our Dyson cordless stick vacuum.

Dave and Wanda

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