I crossed the border from North Carolina into Tennessee on
Wednesday the 14th and settled in for the weekend. There were two
reasons for that. I imagined that it would take me a good bit of time to see
the Great Smoky Mountains and it was raining. I didn’t want to drive.
By Saturday, I was sick of the rain and decided to go
explore the Smokies anyway.
They are beautiful, but because of the constant rain and
mist, the pictures are not spectacular. That haze of gray that hangs around the
mountains, though, definitely earns them the title of “Smoky.” Perhaps the high
point (literally) of my trek across the crest at New Pass was crossing the Appalachian
Trail. I took a look at it and walked out along the trail toward Maine, exactly
100 steps. According to my calculations, I have exactly 4,125,424 steps to go.
Someday.
After I’d crossed over the Smokies, back into North
Carolina, I decided to travel along the Blue Ridge Parkway. I had it in mind to
head generally Northward along the Parkway when I broke camp on Monday. After
seventeen miles, I decided this was not actually the kid of route I wanted to
pull the trailer along. Some of the overpasses were barely higher than my
trailer and I wouldn’t be in my own lane when I rounded a few of the curves.
When I exited, though, I encountered some elk bedded down in the greenway of
the cloverleaf.
As an alternative, when I broke camp on Monday, I just set
the GPS to go toward the nephews and nieces in Virginia without using freeways.
What a beautiful journey. Just before I crossed into Virginia, I paused at a
NASCAR mecca long enough to take a photo of The Coliseum. So here’s to all my
NASCAR loving relatives. I have made the pilgrimage!
And then there was Virginia.
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