It’s a sad truism that old people continue to get older. So is the case of my Mom and Dad. They had bought the Equinox, a vehicle with a strong towing capacity, with the intention of someday getting a pop-up trailer and traveling around the country to the National Parks. Clingman’s Dome got them re-evaluating their dreams.
Mom and Dad love nature. They’re both animal lovers, they recycle whenever possible, they live in a four-season state, and they’ve even gone on more Boy Scout camp-outs than they can remember. They even enjoy hiking. Short distance, level ground hiking. Like from the couch to the kitchen and back. Or even around the neighborhood. Or around Gerber Scout Camp.
Clingman’s Dome was a different kind of hike. It was hiking up the side of a mountain for half a mile at a 12 degree incline.
Mom went hiking with Joe’s Boy Scout troop a few years back in the Shenandoah National Park, through part of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and on a section of the Appalachian trail. Four days of wilderness hiking, with a full backpack, up and down steep mountain trails, with bad knees. She was sure at one point they would have to call an ambulance to get her out of there, but she persevered. By the last day, the pack was much lighter and she was keeping up with the troop. The thing that ticked her off was watching the guys around her having to tighten up their belts as the pounds came off and she came home two pounds heavier! Same food, same trails, same sweat. That’s totally messed up.
Meet Sparkle and Ella-bee
So, anyway, Dad and Mom looked up at that mountain known as Clingmans Dome and considered. It was a wide paved path and people of all ages were going up: kids, grandparents, moms and dads. My parents looked at one another and nodded. Mom had her hiking poles with her, Dad had me in the backpack. Bring it on. HA!!!!!
12 degrees doesn’t sound like much until you’re walking it.
The park service had strategically put up benches about every 100 yards or so. Mom and Dad found everyone of of them and paid them a friendly visit. Meanwhile, families with little kids cheerfully passed us up.
“You’re making us look bad!” I complained.
Dad gave me one of those looks. “Like, two grown people lugging a teddy bear up a mountain wasn’t making us look bad already?”
I was offended by that. Teddy bears are some of the coolest things on the planet! Just being in the presence of one raises your coolness factor by 20 points.
An old guy went past, caught a look at my sweatshirt and cracked a smile.
“I bet you weren’t so happy yesterday,” he commented.
Mom and I just stared at him. We had no idea what he was talking about.
“Your team lost!” he explained.
We still looked at the guy like he was a wierdo. Mom doesn’t care a thing about actual football. I was born at a Build-A-Bear factory in Kansas City while Mom and Dad were visiting their grandkids there. Mom got the KC Chiefs sweater in honor of her dad who loved the team. He died about seven years ago. We just smiled and nodded at the weirdo and went back to hiking.
We were now following behind a family with some young kids. One kid, about 4 years old, was lagging behind, clutching a bag of M&Ms. He looked up at his parents, noticed they weren’t looking, and proceeded to drop an M&M on the path. Maybe he was trying to mark his trail back – Hansel and Gretel style – but Mom just lost it.
“NO!” She screeched. “Don’t do that!”
Of course, that got the whole family turned around staring at her.
She picked up the M&M and handed it to the dad.
“I don’t think he meant to drop this,” she lied, “but there’s bears around here. Human food can make them turn mean.”
The man thanked her, and we went on.
Dad leaned over to whisper to Mom, “He’d just got onto him about that just a few minutes ago.”
“Well, maybe he’ll take the bag away this time.”
“I’ll take it!” I volunteered. “Candy doesn’t make me mean. Not getting candy does.”
They ignored me and went back to hiking up that hill.
So, after what seems like a couple years, we get up to the top, round the corner and see this big concrete…. tower? ramp? swoosh? THINGY there. There was an observation deck built up above the treetops.
Sweat dripping down their faces, panting like a couple of dogs on a hot day in August, Mom and Dad stared up at that thing.
“Should we?” Dad asked.
Mom shook her head, not believing she was saying the next words coming out her own mouth. “Well, we climbed up this far. What’s another 1000 steps or so?”
So said, we headed up the ramp. The Corps of Civil Engineers who built it were nice enough to make sure the ramp was of the same incline as the rest of the mountain: 12 degrees.
The ramp corkscrewed up and around, ending at the observation deck. What a view! We were at the highest point on the Appalachian Trail: 6,643 feet! The tower was built on the North Carolina / Tennessee border.
They say that on a clear day, you can see 100 miles from that observation deck. I believe it.
We stood there staring forever and ever, it was just so awesome! Finally, our tummies told us it was time to go. Mom had taken about a hundred pictures, but we all agreed pictures can never be the same as being there.
The hike back down was 12 degrees too. You would think it would be easier, but Mom wasn’t so sure about that. Bad knees really don’t like going downhill. A few kids ran past, letting gravity take them down. Mom said if she relied on gravity, she’d be flat on her face. The view along the path was spectacular! How had we not noticed it on the way up? Maybe because the mountain was in the way and we were too busy focused on breathing at the time.
We got another funny surprise on our way out of the park. There’s a couple of tunnels you have to drive through on your way down the mountain. One tunnel was actually part of a cork screw: we circled down around a bend in the road and then went under the road.
It was sad to leave, as we knew this was the only day we would be spending in the park. Back at the hotel in Pigeon Forge, Mom checked the elevation on her compass app. 1020 feet. Very non-impressive.
Good bye Great Smoky’s. I’m disappointed I never got to see any of my cousins, but I’m leaving you with some awesome memories.
