Saturday, June 13, 2015

Keep close to Nature's heart...

...and break clear away, once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean."  ~John Muir


A Morning in Cades Cove

One of the things that sets Great Smoky Mountain National Park apart from many other national parks is its connection with people throughout its history. Because the park wasn’t created until the 1930s, many people lived and thrived in the Smokies from the times of the Cherokee to European farmers and herders moving in to the mountains. There are many remnants of this history, most of which occur in the form of mountain-style log cabins spread throughout the park.

Cades Cove is a valley in the Smokies containing an 11-mile loop that takes visitors by some of these historic buildings such as churches, cabins, and even a mill, most of which were built in the 1800s. The one way loop is for cars, bicycles, and hikers alike, but on Wednesday and Saturday mornings the loop is closed to traffic until 10 am exclusively for non-motorized visitors. On June 6th, Saturday morning, some National Park Service employees and interns met at the start of Cades Cove Loop for a get-together. The plan was to bike around the loop and meet back at the park service building for a pancake breakfast.


In my short time at the park so far, I have already seen many beautiful sights throughout the Smokies, but Cades Cove had to be one of the most breathtaking. As we entered the cove, a pasture full of horses grazed on grass that glistened with dew. Behind them, blue mountains were shrouded in the characteristic mist that the Smokies were named for. It was a sunny, clear morning with a blue sky and no sign of rain.

The road was narrow enough that it was hard to believe it was not only a bike path. At the back of the loop, there was a visitors center with a mill and more houses from days past. We saw white-tailed deer dance over the landscape, and heard that some kids in our group behind us saw a bear, but we didn’t spot it.


The northern side of the loop became more and more uphill and less downhill, which involved a lot of walking the bikes. We rode by pastures and through forests, next to log cabins and intersected with horse trails. A pancake breakfast with friends was a perfect end to the morning trip (and also a wonderful reward).

Journey to the Top of Mount LeConte


On Monday morning, a new adventure was in store for me. A few rangers had some work to complete up at LeConte Lodge, which consists of 20 or so cabins situated on top of Mt. LeConte, one of the higher peaks in the park. Once a year a helicopter drops food and supplies for the guests staying and crew working at the lodge, and llamas travel between the lodge and town three times a week with fresh linens for the cabins' beds and eggs for breakfast. A few other interns and I were invited to accompany the rangers to the lodge for an overnight stay in the trail maintenance crew cabin, since the rest of the lodge books for the summer in October the year before.

Alum Cave Trail is a five mile hike to LeConte Lodge that starts from Newfound Gap Road. The first mile of the trail leads through a dense forest and along a wide creek. There are dense thickets of rhododendron along the dirt trail that is wrought with roots tangling over each other. Views of the river are interspersed periodically between the foliage. We crossed a few foot bridges over the river, most of which were logs with a railing attached to the side. It was only quarter to nine in the morning when we started, but the air was already humid and warm.


About a mile up the trail we came to Arch Rock, a geological feature formed by ice and water. Walking up to the rock, I could see the stone steps leading to the other side of the boulder on the top of the hill, but the trek was steep enough that I couldn’t see the other side from where I was standing at the bottom. I had to lean forward so that my backpack didn’t catch the ceiling of rocks as I climbed through. The steps were wet from a recent rain, and I held on to a cable attached to the wall to keep my footing. From the top of arch rock, the trail began to climb more steadily, away from the creek and into the forest.


One of the most beautiful vantage points on the trail was Inspiration Point, less than another mile up the trail. Mountain laurels and rhododendrons were both blooming pink flowers around a rock outcrop. Standing on top, we were fully immersed in the mountains with no sign of development in sight. Further up the trail we reached Alum Cave Bluffs, an enormous rock outcrop that marks the halfway point of the trail. Though these higher elevations of the Smokies get enough rain to be classified as a temperate rainforest, it is ironic that the space beneath the bluffs is one of the driest places in the park. The ground beneath it is covered in sand and the rock outcrop stands so tall that I had to crane my neck up backwards just to see the top.


A wooden sign read that the summit of Mt. LeConte was 2.7 miles away, and the rest of the hike was almost entirely uphill. As we climbed higher, the path became more rocky and the forest around us became dominated by pine and fir trees. We were treated to amazing views of the surrounding mountains as we climbed along cliffs, clinging to the metal cables that were attached to the rock walls covered in dripping moss.



About 45 minutes away from the top, the sky opened and poured rain. Water soaked my hat and then began to pour off of the rim. I pulled out a poncho and pulled it around my backpack to keep my clothes and sleeping bag dry. As we got closer, we walked through a pine forest that covered the trail, offering a break from the rain. Finally, buildings appeared through the trees, and we stumbled down some stone steps and into the LeConte Lodge dining room for lunch.


Cliff Tops overlook is a short walk from the lodge, and offers a popular viewpoint for watching the sunset (when it’s not raining or foggy). Such an amazing view!




Dinner and breakfast at the lodge are served family style around large tables in the dining hall. It’s easy to feel like a part of this mountain family that exists high on Mt. LeConte secluded from the bustling tourism culture of Gatlinburg. We spent the night playing Phase 10 by lamplight in the lodge’s lounge cabin.




The next day we left around nine in the morning after a breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs, biscuits and peaches. After fastening my poncho to my pack as a rainfly and donning my rain jacket and rain pants, we set off down the mountain.


How different the hike was when the weather changed! Beautiful views along steep hillsides were replaced with a blank canvas of fog, so dense that sometimes it was impossible to see past the dropoff of the cliffs. The rocks on the trail were slick from the night’s storm, and sometimes it felt more like we were hiking down a stream than a trail as the water cascaded down the clearest path that was available. This meant that I was holding more tightly to more of the cables on the way down, which slowed me down a considerable amount of time. Going down takes less energy than going up, however, and we shaved over an hour and a half off of our time from Monday. (Is it worth the knee pain, though? That afternoon after taking a nap I tried to go downstairs and almost collapsed because my knees were so worn out).




What an incredible trip it was up to Mount LeConte! I am so thankful for this amazing experience that my supervisor helped set up for me, and I am constantly amazed by the variety of ecosystems that exist in the Smokies.

Since Tuesday, I've been working on online training at my job, as well as starting to become more familiar with the website. The days are starting to go by faster as I continue to settle in. If I'm going to be honest, it has definitely been a challenge moving out here. Every adventure comes with its own challenges and experiences, but I feel prepared and ready for the rest of the summer. Thank you to everyone who has shown me support over the last few weeks--I am grateful for your encouragement! :)

Say hi to Minnesota for me (and Lake Superior to all the Duluthians reading),

Lindsey.

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