Yeah, I know, typical tourist selfie. As embarrassing as it is, just look at that background.

We were promised 72º and full sun. We got 73º and full sun. Get out the short sleeve shirts and shorts.

Our activities got off to an odd start. My goal was to drive the one-lane one-way Cherokee Orchard Road and Roaring Fork Motor Nature Trail. This is a 10-mile loop that starts and ends in Gatlinburg. At the half-way point is the Trillium Gap Trail that leads to Grotto Falls.

We started the Cherokee Orchard Road plenty early to avoid the onslaught of cars. The road was even prettier than the Cades Cove route. About three miles in we got sucked into a 3/4 mile hiking trail loop that promised another homestead from the 1800s.

We calculated that we could do a quick run around the loop and still reach Trillium Trail in time. Midpoint on the trail stood a unique grain mill next to a mountain brook. It was rustic and had a long trough feeding water to a waterwheel. The waterwheel wasn’t the typical vertical wheel on the side of an old mill. This waterwheel spun horizontally.

Well, I can’t let something like that go unphotographed. The lighting sucked, the quarters were cramped, deep shadows got in the way, etc. This happens frequently. While I puzzle out a photo, Wanda understandably gets bored and wanders off, but usually not too far.

When I finally sussed out how to get a photo or two, I couldn’t find Wanda. Her rule-of-thumb is that she goes to the next sunny spot to soak up the warmth. Trouble was, in the dense forest there weren’t any sunny spots. I kept walking down the trail hoping that she was just around the next bend catching rays. Each bend, no sun, no Wanda.

On this back side of the trail, the path is poorly marked. It would be easy to go off in the wrong direction. So, when I reached the van and still no Wanda, I started to get concerned.

I returned to the trail, this time going backwards. I reached the grain mill. No Wanda. I started asking people if they saw a woman of Wanda’s description (a beautiful woman that looks about 18 with long dark hair). One guy said he thought he did. A group of kindergarten kids and a couple of teachers came by. The teachers didn’t see anyone like Wanda, but one little girl said she did. She pointed back up the trail.

The little girl was right. Wanda had returned to the trailhead. I was so relieved. However, we lost our edge as far as getting a parking spot at Trillium Trail. When we got there, cars were parked for miles. Change of plans.

The trail that we tried to sneak in before we tackled the Trillium Trail.

More old farm houses from the 1800s.

Here is the culprit for our delay - the grain mill. It doesn’t look like much but it has that magical horizontal waterwheel.

Ta-da! The horizontal waterwheel. Pretty amazing, eh? Not!! It certainly wasn’t worth sacrificing a waterfalls.

This guy was demonstrating traditional hill-country instruments to the group of kindergarten kids.

Off to Clingmans Dome. But, first we had to crawl along the rest of the auto tour loop. It is hard to describe how beautiful this drive is. Plugging along at 5 mph is still too fast. You need to absorb this place through every pore. Each leaf, blade of grass, drop of water tumbling over each rock in the creek accompanying the road requires inspection. Everything in this quadrant of the universe is so perfectly placed.

The Roaring Fork Motor Nature Trail.

There is only one north-south road that winds its way through the middle of the park. That is Highway 441. All other park roads just nibble at the edges. The section of Highway 441 that transits the park is 30 miles long - 15 miles up and 15 miles down. Clingmans Dome is located at the highest point of the road.

Clingmans Dome is an incongruent structure. It doesn’t belong. A round naked cement disk is held high up in the air by a single column of naked cement. I don’t know who thought cement was an attractive building material. I remember that the old Soviet Union used unadorned cement a lot during the 50s, and it was ugly.

From the parking lot, which was full, but we snuck into a no-parking spot, it is a half-mile drudge up a steep blacktopped path. The blacktop made it handicapped accessible, which the near 45º angle defeated.

At the top of the climb, a cement ramp wound its way up to the 360º observation deck. The view was unlimited and gorgeous. I forgave the designers of the structure for their lack of aesthetics. The Smokies are incredible from this vantage point.

On our way up the path, we passed an elderly gentleman pushing his walker at a near imperceptible pace. While we were up on the deck, we suddenly heard a loud ovation. The old guy made it. With a wide proud smile, he announced that he was 86 years young.

Part of the half-mile path to Clingmans Dome is shared with the Appalachian Trail. Of course, I took photos of the trail sign to chronicle our short but memorable trek on the AT. I wanted to hike 1.1 miles on the trail so I could legitimately claim to have walked miles (plural) on the Appalachian Trail. Not yet, we only got about 1/8 mile so far.

The distant blue hue is why the Native Americans called these mountains the Smoky Mountains.

We followed the Fall colorama all the way south to this point. In the valleys, the trees are still blazing. In these higher elevations, the leaves have fallen long ago.

We watched the sunset from the Dome area.

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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