Mountains, Waterfalls and Bears!

We checked into Cold Creek Resort, Pigeon Forge for 3 nights and found ourselves in a spacious studio with kitchen. It proved to be a good base from which to explore the surrounding area. There was plenty to do including fishing in the Little Pigeon River. We were amused to read the river was restocked every Thursday – they think of everything here!

Our first trip was a self-guided driving tour around Roaring Fork (aren’t these great names?). This single track road climbed up into the pretty mixed woodland just outside Gatlinburg and took us around the area of the first white settlers. The huge hemlocks and tulip trees rose 100 feet or more on their tall straight trunks to reach for the sky.

The primitive log cabin of Ephraim Bales showed how harsh life was for a family of 10 crowded into 2 tiny rooms of the house built alongside the Roaring Fork River. Traditionally they farmed the stony land growing corn and raising pigs for meat, with a cow and a horse if they were lucky. It was a tough existence. They were only a few miles from Gatlinburg but it was a 3-day wagon journey away.

We also visited Cades Cove, a tranquil lush valley surrounded by mountains. Again there were several houses and churches preserved from the original settlement of around 240 families. The landscape was clearly more pastoral here with hay fields and meadows of solidago and wild flowers bordered by smaller trees. Surprisingly amidst all the trees there are very few birds or nests to be seen. We did see a family of huge wild turkeys, followed by a doe and her fawn grazing in the shade. We then stopped where there were other cars and climbed out to see a black bear cub sleeping in a tree. More exciting still we came across two elk with huge antlers.

En route we walked around the white wooden Primitive Baptist Church with its simple bell-tower, and then wandered around the graveyard. The family names here told of European origins – Shields, Sparks, and the Olivers – the first settlers here. Most surprisingly was the longevity of these people. With the exception of new-born babies, and a man murdered by Civil War rebels, most settlers lived well into their 80’s and 90’s. Certainly this harsh existence did not diminish their live-expectancy at all. We visited a working mill – the water wheel still operating the millstones to grind corn and wheat. Milling was a part-time occupation and a bell hung outside for customers to ring and summon the miller from his home to grind corn when required. His payment was a percentage of the wheat flour or corn starch he had milled. There was also a blacksmith’s shop nearby, a store, a sugar mill and a furnace. It seemed an easier, more civilized life than the hill farmers at nearby Roaring Fork.

Heading out of the Park there was another car about 50 yards ahead of us. Suddenly a black bear lumbered across the road in front of us, and before you could say “Goldilocks” had vanished into the undergrowth. We were amazed at such an opportune sighting, but what made the bear play ‘chicken’ between the only two cars on the road was a puzzle to us.

We decided to take an unmapped short-cut on what was signposted an “unimproved mountain road” to our next tour. Parson Branch Road was a rough surfaced, steep, single track which was OK until it started to rain. There was no turning back, so we pressed on, dodging fallen trees and fording muddy streams. After the bear encounter I refused to get out of the car and take pictures, so this part remains undocumented! At last we hit terra firma and headed to Franklin, a wealthy town due to dozens of ruby, emerald and sapphire mines nearby.

From there the Cullasaja River Gorge was a narrow twisting road heading to Highlands along the precipitous edge of the gorge, but well worth the ‘clammy hands’ drive. The Lower Cullasaja Falls was a series of white water cascades plummeting 150 feet beside the road. Further ahead are the Dry Falls, but as the car park was under construction we gave them a miss. Just a mile further on were the beautiful Bridal Veil Falls. The water trickled down the mountain rock face and ran off the edge as a delicate curtain – and the old road ran right behind the ‘veil’. It was a delightful sight.

As we entered the upmarket town of Highlands, a pleasant restaurant and wine bar was positioned on the side of the lake. A quick handbrake turn had us skidding into the car park. Highland was reputedly the highest and wettest town in North Carolina with 80inches of rainfall per year. However, the last two years have seen only 20inches per year and residents are alarmed that soon this will impact the local ecology here. We sat on the veranda looking across the water to holiday homes with boats tied up to their jetties, and enjoyed crostini and chilled white wine. We chatted with some fellow Floridians who were staying in the woods and found the gloom and constant dripping too depressing to contemplate living here. It sounded just like Britain!

The friendly bar-tender insisted we could not leave without seeing the sunset over Glenn Falls so we followed his directions down a track, parked and took the so called “less difficult” path to see the 180 degree panoramic view of the valley, and the top of the Falls. The ‘5 minute walk’ became 15 minutes as we struggled uphill, crossing and recrossing the diminishing stream on wobbly stepping stones. After 25 minutes we stopped to regroup. The river was still level with us, but a mere trickle now. There was no sound of the promised Falls, and we were deep in the woods with no possibility of a view beyond 5 yards. Alarmingly there were large paw prints on the muddy path. Either a large dog had passed that way, or….I didn’t dare think of the alternative. Disappointed, hot and tired we gave up and hurried back to the car in the twilight. Reluctant to be beaten, we then took the “more difficult” path from the car park. After 5 minutes steep descent I dug my heels in. No further. Dressed in nice shoes with my handbag on my arm and darkness closing in, I had had enough, so the Glenn Falls remain, at least for us, undiscovered.