3 WAY CAMPING: TALE OF A TENDERFOOT

A Tenderfoot Goes Camping--Three Ways, in the Great Smoky Mountains of North Carolina
A REVIEW EXPERIENCE RATING: *****

(The town of Deep Creek is 12 mi. and Bryson City is 5 mi. West of Cherokee, NC)

What happens when a grown up Girl Scout with only two badges for sewing and telephone etiquette, takes off for Cherokee NC for two weeks in the mountains, with an experienced Eagle Scout who aims to convince his wife that the great American pastime is not total hardship?

THE TENT EXPERIENCE

Believe it or not, here I was 53, a former Girl Scout of one year (and once a Brownie) but I had NEVER been camping. My dad was an deer hunting archer who camped every year in Colorado. My husband, Keith, is a full fledged Eagle Scout, past Scoutmaster, and Royal Ranger Sectional Commander who was used to taking 52 boys on a 4 day trip. And here was me, dreading it.

He was afraid I would be quite literally "out of my element." And I was convinced that I would find death by bears and wolves. Armed with experience taking boys who had never been camping, "tenderfoots" he called them, he devised a way to let me experience camping three different ways. He would break me in slowly. A night in a cozy 6 ft. dome tent on a creek, a week in a new but rustic cabin, and in a gorgeous 2 bedroom RV conversion with big deck on the Tuckasegee River.

The first stop was at Deep Creek Tubing Campground in Deep Creek, NC. The second two would both be at the same campground, called Ela Campground and Cabins, at Bryson City, just 5 miles west of the town, or reservation, of Cherokee.

Cherokee was our main destination but it made sense to stay midway between Deep Creek and Cherokee at Ela (pronounced Ee-la) Campground in Bryson City, so that we were closer to all the places we wanted to see, like Cade's Cove, Clingman's Dome, "Unto These Hills", and Chimneytop Mountain.

We packed up the Hummer, and our willing Zoey, our 55 lb. pet Catahoula, and from Craigslist, bought a 38 year old pre-owned Grumman aluminum canoe in pristine condition, in Ringgold, GA on the way, so that Keith could canoe down the "Tuck" and we could boat at Fountana Lake. The Tuckasegee River is fed extra speed and excitement and tons of water by the release of the Fountana Dam each afternoon at 3 p.m.

It is a 10 hr. drive from Panama City, Florida and the first night, we arrived right before dark, dark clouds threatened, and it was misting warm rain. There were many tents already set up on a slightly sloping bank of the babbling, rocky Creek. Each 10 x 20 ft. site outlined in railroad ties was filled with gravel. In several minutes we had shelter on site 46.

The round tent with a rain cover was all staked down, mosquito netting closed, and nearby picnic table illuminated with a bright Coleman lantern next to a turning contraption for drying clothes. By this time, dusk had fallen and I thought I saw burning cinders flying off the twenty or so campfires, but instead they were just magical fireflies gathered around the trees, like curious fairies hanging around us harmlessly for the fun of it. We left all our food in ice coolers in the Hummer (to avoid attracting bears.)
I was sort of feeling sorry for us, in the rain and deprivation of all but the bare necessities, and I was very hungry. When you don’t light a fire, you have “cold camped.” So we drove to Bryson City to Bojangles for a nice, take out chicken dinner, which we ate in the vehicle at the parking lot of the campsites, the AC turned on.

It was past 10 p.m., the "quiet hour," and I visited the bath house with my flashlight to dress for “bed” in a pink cut off tee shirt and light sweatpants, and we zipped Zoey up in our tent with her chain, food, blanket, and water. I slept on the cot with the 2 inch mattress pad to which I added a doubled over comforter, and our best white sheets from home and my Thermopedic pillow a red chamille throw to warm my shoulders, and red terry bathrobe for warm to warm my feet which were in socks. I was taking no chances with my health. Keith's army- green cot was wider and he slept on it without a sheet or blanket, just in his clothes. Zoey curled up and slept under his cot.

By morning she had crawled up along Keith’s feet, and both were sleeping soundly. I was extremely comfortable, and extremely charmed. Everything in the tent and vicinity was tinted blue from the moonlight and I could peer through the navy mesh pressing against my cot to 'spy' on the other sleep pods. Zoey “grrred” warnings if anyone got too close. (“Grr..(listen)…grr..(listen)..grr”)

By 11 p.m., Keith was asleep, but I was awake. There were still a lot of strange beams of light casting weird shapes and arcs inside tents as people arranged themselves in the dark. A steady stream of bathroom goers crunched up and down the stone and wood "steps," shining sweeping flashlights beams on the path.

Tent campers are a casual lot, I decided. Everyone in comfier clothes and not anyone in matching outfits. Everyone had a fire so it was still quite smoky. The Smoky Mountains, hmm.

Lying still, the sound of the river was all I heard. It would not be possible to talk over the rushing water, and the campground after dark was as silent as a library. We were exhausted, and I looked at my husband and noticed he looked very appealing in his denim shirt and jeans inside a tent. I got out of my cot, not an easy feat, to reward him for all his hard work with a kiss.

My mind would not be quiet until I told myself that I would not forget the details of what it was trying to record, and not to worry, because surely any bears wandering into camp might pick off the outliers and spare the bellwethers in the middle of us brave, nonsuspecting campers.

The distant river is a musical instrument, and a trio of tenors singing with the angels. I drifted off to pleasant and refreshing sleep. In the morning when the sun was up, Keith took my picture drinking of out of a net wrapped canteen (another first). I'll admit the theme song to M*A*S*H was going through my head and I wondered what it might be like to have "war wounded" coming in on choppers. I thought of our military with new appreciation. My eyes were very puffy in the morning, from the 100% humidity and the smoky fires.

I stuck my head out of the tent and sang a weak, "The best part of wakin' up, is Folger's in my cup...Where's my coffee?"


The next day Keith warned me not to have so much as a candy wrapper or toothpaste inside the tent or bears may visit. My purse was full of bubblegum and atomic fireballs, and in my wash kit, some CloseUp toothpaste. We could have had a bear closeup! Live and learn, and learn to live, I decided.

The next day I also made another important decision. I loved Camping. I was much more of a nature girl that I thought. It was something I wanted to do again as soon as possible.

THE CABIN EXPERIENCE

Imagine the upgrade…a brand new, white pine cabin overlooking the large blue swimming pool. I thought it was cedar because it resembled it inside and out, and it smelled of sweet woods. We turned on the blessed AC and started placing our things. I made up our bed, a double sized lower bunk, unrolling my “bedroll” with sheets inside across the thick comforter, and then the pillows and the red chenille throw and my red terry robe. He claimed a bunk on the opposite side for his big suitcase and I had the lower berth for mine. We stowed our dry foodstuffs neatly in their cardboard boxes above our bed, and transferred cold foods to the mini-fridge under the microwave, and left the frozen things in the Igloo cooler with plenty of ice.

I set up my laptop and dashed off a Facebook post to family, and I sent the table on one side with my “Indian” print placemats and two leaf pattern napkins I made by halving and hemming a woven dishtowel.

You know how you carefully arrange everything when you get to a new place? It was a singular joy.

We turned on the TV and found the Inspirational ISPN channel to our liking, with nostalgic programs; the Big Valley, Bonanza and The Waltons, and we monitored tropical storm Hurricane Debby that was about to make landfall near our home in Panama City, Florida, which was a bit concerning to us.

Keith could not wait to set up the pic-a-nick table with a checkered tablecloth, his Coleman® Stove® cookers, his zippered cookware case, which stayed outside. The huge “dine and fly” tarp he brought was too big and would cover our fire pit and our neighbors, so he improvised with a smaller ground cover, 5 poles and ropes. Soon we had enviable shade to eat under.

My “‘kitchen sink” was a plastic mixing bowl with handle from the Dollar Tree, the most useful item I brought as it turned out, and dishes can be wiped with a paper towel, suds-ed up in the bowl, then rinsed in the same bowl and dried with a paper towel. Water from the spigot was delicious for drinking, so we avoided the expense of carrying bottled water.

We staked a small bar of soap and clean white hand towel on the utility post next to our spigot on site #69. There are about 10 cabins making an L-shape around the pool and we were on the end next to the lawn and tent area under very tall pines and oaks .
Each site had a fire ring of stones that you can leave a pot of coffee on to keep warm, old western style.

THE POOL EXPERIENCE

Happy children started streaming to the pool with dads and moms, and I changed into my star spangled red white and blue swimsuit, that was navy and stars on top and white and trimmed in white on the bottom for the upcoming 4th of July, but, I wore a tank, long sleeved white shirt and gray shorts over them. I watched them play from my chaise lounge, sleeping under a tips FSU baseball cap and glasses, and inhaling my favorite suntan lotion, Coppertone. I wanted to look all coppery, like an Indian maiden.

Ela’s pool is cleaned every day, so it’s sparkling clear.

Keith was too busy setting up camp to join me, because he is a former Boy Scout master who hadn’t camped in a long time, and he loves everything camping involves. He ran around getting acquainted with the other campers and owners and staff, and made fast friends.

The atmosphere there was very wholesome, and there were inspirational plaques, pictures inside and outside the cabin. This is a place for families. A single mother with little children would find this campground perfect, even in a tent, and it would be easy to keep an eye on them because of close quarters.

The spacious shower house had 4 big stalls and 4 large showers with dressing rooms, right behind our cabins. Double sinks, a big mirror, and I noted a gas heater was on the wall for the colder months. I took two showers in one week, but was in and out all the time. I would visit with a flashlight at night, but the path is well lit with a tall streetlight. I never felt afraid.

My husband told me that three times while we were there, a smallish black bear was seen in the camp outskirts, looking for food. About the only time anything happened was long before we arrived when a bag of dog food disappeared off a cabin porch one night and was found in the woods pawed open and empty. Commandment #1, Thou shalt leave no temptation outside thy cabin for bears, mainly because they need to forage their own food, and not grow dependent upon humans to feed them. This can cause them real trouble when they forget how to hunt, grow too bold, or they get sick from eating the wrong nutrients in their diets.

Our days were spent sightseeing, attending Cherokee events and museums, shopping, driving up the mountains to for Keith to reclaim Clingman’s Dome, 6649 feet above sea level. We toured a partly genuine, partly replicated Mountain Farm Museum at the Oconaluftee Visitor Center. It was originally owned in 1900 by the Davis Family and had been transported piece by piece from Deep Creek and is now a National Park protected by full time park rangers.

We were treated by the rare occurrence according to our ranger, to see five elk grazing in the green pasture, their antlers just beginning to bud and lengthen, one being the bull elk probably weighing 500 or 600 Ibs. If you’ve never seen one, an elk looks to be the size of fully grown horse. The “early blooming” apple trees of the farm were fenced to keep them from sharpening their “racks” in the fall, when sharp weapons would be needed to compete with the others for mating privileges.

Many cars and SUVs had stopped along the highway to photograph the peaceful males who seemed to know they had nothing to fear, or arrests would instantly be made by rangers who have greater powers than the FBI.

The pioneer’s home, buggies, crops, vegetables, machinery, food processing, barns, yokes, stalls, mill, honeybee hives, were authentic and still functional to anyone who could remember how to use them. I found out later that classes are given. A large “biddy” hen (the chicken),with brown and white scalloped feathers pecked around the grass happily. The plantation was installed next to a beautiful creek flowing under thick trees, and we walked the path and studied the informational monuments.

(Note: At Cades Cove, Tennessee, ? miles away, is an 11 mile loop road around an 1800-1900’s pioneer village. It would take too many words to describe. I purchased a CD of hauntingly beautiful Cherokee pipe music called Ancient Voices of the Smoky Mountains, by Randy McGinnis and Will Clipman, $20, from the visitor center. )

THE CHIMNEY TOP PICNIC EXPERIENCE

We also picnicked in the Chimney’s in the National Park, in a secluded spot under massive natural shade trees, near Oconoluftee Creek, which was about 8 ft. “low” revealing snowy white boulders. A simple meal of hot beans and cut up polish sausage, and some smoked sausage hot dogs cooked on a camp stove was delicious. Zoey, being black, was the closest thing to an animal resembling a bear, but big noisy ravens called and flew in and out of the tree tops, maybe trying to tell us something, because it was closing time and cars were “Getting out of Dodge.” So did the Don’t Feed the Bear signs.

Late each night we lit a campfire, either a criss- cross “Friendship” or “Teepee” fire, that Keith laid out during the day, and talk about the days’ experiences. I realized that we were getting closer. This was a good vacation.

THE CHEROKEE SHOPPING EXPERIENCE

In Cherokee, we wandered up and down the main street entering gift shops. He always starts with the PowWow gift shop, since he’s been coming here for 30 years. The air conditioned, incensed air greeted us. We spotted a porcelain canoe with boy and girl Indian salt and pepper shakers. And I liked the blue pottery. At the register you could purchase packs of variety flavored freeze dried cricket skeletons, like Garlic Parmesan and Honey Apple. I kid you not. They are like potato chips to the Cherokee.

We crossed the street and entered a store that boasted 2 tees for $5. Keith struck up a conversation with a 100% Cherokee behind the counter. About 6’2” tall, he had deep skin tone, short hair, wide nose, brown close- set eyes and a pointed chin. He wore a taut white tee shirt. He was very kind and seemed to be living in our day and time. Some of the Indians we met seemed to be from far away and long ago, having lived on the Reservation all of their lives.

I bought a book called The Cherokee, Past and Present, for research. I greatly admired the thick, decorative woven blankets for $6 and we said we’d return. I also found miniature Indian dolls for only $1.75 each, for the children at home. I saw a $6 coffee mug with the “7 Clans of the Cherokee” logo. The Clans are Deer, Wolf, Wild Potato, Blue, Long Hair, and Bird. Wild Potato? Really? I decided I would want to be from the Blue “healers” and from the Paint “artists” clans. My husband just has to be a mixture of the Wolf warriors and the Long Haired talkers.

He is actually 1/12 (estimate) Cherokee, and you can submit identification such as a birth certificate or marriage certificate for research at the Cherokee Agency Bureau of Indian Affairs. If you are at least 1/16 Cherokee, you are eligible to be included on the Cherokee Nation rolls. So Keith would squeak by in his moccasins to join.

Down the street we found a boutique called The Original Moccasin Shop, with styles, made by Manitowa, the established brand. Keith bought me a pair made of white calves leather, adorned with a red and black beaded eagle and fringe, for $38, and for his mother, we found a blue pair made sea otter leather, trimmed in fringe and smoked metal teardrops.

We crossed the street again and came to Buck & Squaw Crafts, the largest gift shop in Cherokee. Immediately I spotted a tee he would love. Mount Rushmore with the Four Presidents and in front of them, Four Great Indian Chiefs. His eyes lit up telling me I’d get it for him later on. He chose a heavy faded sweatshirt that was hanging outside on a rack in the wind. It was a dusky pink and had Cherokee NC in navy embroidery. A bargain at $3.

Of course there were much more expensive items for sale, like a 5 ft. long wooden carved replica of the sacred rattlesnake on a branch, in the Qualla Arts and Crafts Museum, priced at $4,200!

It was time for an ice cream, and we found Blue Bell at “Carolina Coney.” I had Black Walnut and Birthday Cake, and he had Black Walnut and Chocolate. We nibbled our cones on the sun- dappled back deck overlooking the flowing river. Somehow an ice cream made of a native tree seemed to be just the thing.

We held hands and walked to Tomahawk. As big inside as a Bass Pro Shop, the two storied store had a museum quality and was filled with very nice gifts, and mounted deer heads, a buffalo head, a full standing mountain goat. The proprietor in cowboy hat and his wife were closing up but answered our questions about the beautiful replica civil war firearms (they don’t fire) for $99 and up, the unsharpened tomahawks for $6 for Dad who loves FSU Seminoles, and the stories behind the animals he’d killed. I asked about the Buffalo, but he said it had died in a petting zoo. He could have “buffaloed” me with a better story than that one.

We promised to return when we weren’t so physically tired.

I found an outlet in a building that used to be an IGA , Golden Eagle Souvenirs and bought two Indian Farsli blankets in red, white and blue pattern to stitch together as a queen bed spread when we get home. They were only $6.99 each. Also a stick of “23 Blend” incense (6 for $1) that made our cabin smell like a cozy teepee in the sky.

We found that the blankets were a timely investment because it turned cold one of the June nights, and my throw and robe were not going to keep the chill off us both. Indians sure do know how to make warm blankets! They can be little scratchy, but not bad when sheets are used. I ended up buying 6 of these wonderful, colorful blankets, one for everyone on my gift list.

Get Tickets in advance at the big Ticket outlet. Suffice it to say you must see “Unto these Hills”. And the Oconoluftee Cherokee Indian Village which is unique and fascinating. Our guide in the village looked authentically Cherokee, but her accent was, “We’re glad ya’ll’r here.” All the actors were drinking from metal cups. There were excellent actors portraying the British and American historical figures.

A funny thing happened. A little girl loudly insisted over and over that the one in the trading post was a pirate, despite his best attempts to deny it. When we were out of sight, I heard him appease her, “Arrrrgh, who goes there?”

We entered two typical Cherokee houses (not teepees!), and the Council House, a circular hut with a eternal flame burning inside, a smaller scale model of one with bleachers for up to 500 tribe members, who must sit in their Clan section. This is not for show, but how things are still done in the Cherokee Nation! Chiefs and vice-Chiefs are elected every 4 years, and councilmen every 2.

Unto These Hills is a 2 hr. spectacle in its 60th year in an amphitheater under the stars. “A retelling” of the history of the Cherokee people, very tragically moving was the death of “Tsali”(pronounced “Sully”) and the “Trail of Tears.” A cast of about 40 acted, danced and sang their hearts out. The Indians playing stick ball and tribal dances, such as the Eagle dance, were authentic and the choreography of other dances Broadway quality. We enjoyed the Frito Pie and there were a large variety of other refreshments, too.

The Cherokee Indian Museum was first class all the way, actually considered one of the Top Museums in the Nation. Well displayed and organized and seemingly endless, actual Indian tools and artifacts identified by functions, hologram presentations, murals, replicas, mannequins, actual items and documents of historical importance. Not to be missed. Most interesting was the Cherokee theory of how the world began, and the fact that they chose the side with the French and the British to fight alongside during their wars with the American settlers and the Creek Indians.

The Qualla Indian Arts and Crafts Museum may be seen in ten minutes or much longer. Featured are baskets which take months to weave, decorative pottery, and exquisite wood carvings. The gift shop sells very fine items strictly made by Cherokee artisans. Ladies beaded earrings made of tiny beads and intricate design sold for under $20. Most of what is in the tourist gift shops looks Cherokee-made, but may come from Mexico and China.


THE RIVERFRONT EXPERIENCE “Ela’s Best.”

Moving our gear across the street from the Cabin was the hardest part of what was a truly pleasurable experience. When the arched glass French door opened, all I could say was “Gloriosky.”

It was even prettier on the inside than the outside. The porch was graced with fully grown purple camellia trees, black metal antique rockers like once seen at motel pools, and a Yankee Candle citronella votive to set the tone.

But, who puts cream crown moldings in a porch conversion? The parlor has floral sofas, soft green walls throughout and 11 ft. ceilings. It was like walking into a magnolia tree and being offered a nice tall iced tea.

To the right were two bedrooms which were made from the 27 ft. RV this low ceilinged dwelling started from. A purple hydrangea wreath decorates the front room we stayed in, with morning sunlight streaming through miniblinds onto the purple and cream quilts on a double and twin bed. The Master bedroom featured a double bed with sage satin comforter and chocolate pinch quilt pillows.

The home sleeps 5.

A bright, gilded bathroom featured a huge round tub and shower with gold mirrored doors. Hot bubblebath, here I come, I said to myself.

A small game room with big screen TV and wicker and waterproof furniture leads to the kitchen.

I noticed that every room has artwork with inspirational thoughts, prayers, and sentiments.

The “rich” country kitchen was huge, tiled in white and green, with open cabinetry showing off assorted dishware and jam jars. Cupboards were fully stocked, with modern full sized appliances, like Whirlpool dishwasher and gas range, Frigidaire, Sharp microwave, and two tables to seat 6, and Grandma’s rocker. And beyond that, the back porch was a freshwater fisherman’s dream.

So THIS was the camping part.

A wide, sunny, yet covered deck overhangs the Tuckasegee River and frames an evergreen mountain. I petted Zoey and sat in the double porch swing, while Keith cooked on the sizzling gas grill and later at night, we lit a chimaera fireplace for a campfire glow. The wicker upholstered furniture grouping is perfect for guests. Whenever the Smoky Mountain Railways comes through, I caught a glimpse of red cars through the trees, and heard friendly toots of the horn, I first mistook for a Riverboat rolling down the river.

You can fish right off the back deck, which is a sizable 21 x 16 ft. ( 336 sq ft), catch a trout for supper, and grill it on the same deck. This is a “fish camp?” More like a Trout Heaven.

I entertained serious thoughts of moving here.
Apparently, this park dates back to 1952, but the animals had designs on it long before. No elk were seen in the Smokies since the beginning of the European migration, but eleven years ago, the federal government began re-introducing them to government lands as a protected species. At Ela, a herd of 6 to 8 elk runs through it each year, clamoring over the porches. Maybe the Indian name Ela, or Laying in Wait, meant for elk such as these.

I was told that a small bear, a wolf, coyotes and elk have been seen outside the park, though none in a way threatening to man, woman or child.

Families can tube and raft down the river. In, fact, Keith had already done so in his shiny canoe.

The place is spacious, which makes it perfect for Southern hospitality. It’s everything you’d need or want for weekend or a week or two’s worth of family fun in the Smoky Mountains.

As I write this I am eating some Grape Salad (like cheesecake with pralines and whole red grapes) and hot coffee. (recipe follows). You haven’t lived if you haven’t tried it. It was made by Paula Bishop’s mother. Paula and Gary Bishop are the owners of Ela Campground. They have been so kind, and we truly have made lifelong friends. Forever we will call them our Smoky Mountain friends.

While we were there, they hosted numerous 4th of July events like Bingo for adults, an Ice cream Social, movie, parade for kids, fishing tournament for kids, men’s hula contest, hotdog/marshmallows roast, and bonfire. July 4th fireworks at 10 p.m., and all day events were held in Bryson City.

So, in conclusion, camping is not so bad, no not bad at all. It fact, it’s wonderful. Whether I was in a small tent in the rain, a cabin staying warm by a fire, or the ultimate riverfront getaway on the 4th of July, I loved them all. Camping is the American pastime and I can see why.


Because America is Beautiful. And it’s worth getting to know. It’s our Heritage.
We met friendly, happy campers everywhere, and filled our cell phones with their numbers. The Great Smoky Mountains is America’s #1 camping destination and gets more visitors than the Grand Canyon. Cherokee is still small, and protected from developmental encroachment by the reservation’s fathers, thus far unspoiled, and the elaborate neon signs of Indian Chiefs and Braves date back from the days that our grandparents visited.

The only addition has been a multistoried hotel and looming Harrah casino which seems out of place. Reaction to it has been mixed.

Tonight we are grilling pork chops on the back porch. That is unless Keith’s fishing line finds a fine trout or two. An evening summer thunderstorm is distantly rolling. Zoey has enjoyed this trip because she came with us and didn’t have to stay in a kennel. Keith is happy because I am happy.//

CANOEING EXPERIENCE

“Do you think you can canoe?” “Yes, I did once in High School.”

“No, do you think you can canoe without tipping us over?” I wasn’t so sure, but said yes, even though I did have experience with tipping.

He did not want me to canoe in the Tuck because of the rocks, so we went searching for a place on the Fontana Lakes. I will admit that I was filled with fear and dread, like I once had about camping. Now cured of this, I was willing to try, but still needed the prayers of a friend for encouragement. I filed a “float plan” by text with every member of my family. I don’t know it if there is a Coast Guard here like we have in Florida or what they call them, but I sure was planning on floating, but if I drowned, I wanted everyone to know. I told them where, when, how long, sent a map snapped by photo message, set my cell phone to GPS locator, and a description of what we were wearing, and the phone number of the campground.



My dad, Capt. Ben, taught me to put my camera or cell phone in a ziploc bag with something bright like a red jar cover, and then inside another ziploc with a puff of air, sealed. That way, if it goes overboard, it stays dry, is visible, and doesn’t sink to the bottom. Keith also put a cork bobber cord on the back of my sunglasses.


The setting was idyllic and serene. If we were listening to classical music, it would feel like we were in Austria. Mountains, some dark green, some distantly purple and smoky, a rusty suspension puff bridge, stood patiently as the shiny antique brown train tracking sightseers though the trees. Powder puff clouds in clear blue skies, and waters of tan, olive, to intense teal green, reflected the tall majesty of the forests and mountains.

It took very little time getting the Canoe off the Hummer off at Almond Boat Launch. (Note: we could have gone on the national park called the Fingerlakes down the road on US Hwy 28, but, people there were in kayaks that are easier to carry.) We opted for the boat launch instead, and paid only $3. (The charge is only $5 for a boat.)

The red clay and pebble shoreline is quite shallow and perfect for sliding off a canoe. While Keith held it upright, I carefully climbed from the back to the front and sat down, my knees spread to brace myself and center my weight. He handed me my paddle which was a “floater” too. Once he was in, we pushed off with the paddles.
Keeping balance is the tricky part, and my efforts at paddling were too much for Keith to compensate for, so I let him do most of the work. There were rental pontoons and ski boats taking off so we had to watch for boat wake. It was midday, and I suggested we go to the far shore where there was shade.

We got there and rested. A blessed breeze came, and I took a picture of him behind me from on top of my head. He looked funny, slanted over like that. (see picture)

On the way back I did not even use my paddle much, except gingerly, but held it crossways on my lap, like a tightrope walker, for balance. I imagined a cartoon I’d seen, of an Indian Princess with a single feather on her head, sitting poised, tall and straight in a canoe and that is what I tried to emulate, and it seemed to work. Copying the racing canoe style of the paddlers in the theme song to Hawaii 5-0 is not what’s called for here, I learned.

We paddled back toward the docks and slid up to a group of graceful ducks swimming away from us, and alongside, not knowing whether to trust or get the heck out of Dodge, glancing back and accelerating. Keith was almost as fast as they were. We split right through the middle of their ranks, and the two with the blue heads went right and the two with the brown heads went left. Maybe they were “married,” I wondered, prompting a debate with Keith. Well, anyway I know that have mates.

I think the blue heads were mallards. Seeing them was the highlight of my canoeing experience.

Keith let me off to buy us two A&W root beers and some BBQ potato chips and Fritos. I waited in the AC in the Hummer and took photos from of him with wide angle and zoom lenses. He seemed to paddle that canoe all over the lake several hundred yards away…he was having a ball….bow of the boat clean out of the water, dodging, and daring other bigger boats to put him in the water with a smile on his face. As I watched the narrow craft bouncing over their wakes, running circles around that lake, I realized: Keith can canoe. Me, no can do.

THE THRIFT SHOPPING EXPERIENCE

At a small thrift store on the same road at Ela, is a sign that reads, Go Green, Recycle. There seemed to be everything and in order, and quite a few children’s books. Keith bought an Emett Smith ( number 22), Dallas Cowboy jersey for only $1, and an autographed Bobby Bowden FSU cap for only $10. I replaced a cherished music box for $2. The proprietor explained that she sells items at low prices to get more turn over.

We met a woman who called herself a “frequent flyer” at the store. She is married to a Cherokee, who does not believe in using $20 bills, because they picture Andrew Jackson. She had long dark hair, and a constellation of diamonds studding her lovely face. She said her husband owned a Harley motorcycle shop and also Indian Ink tattoo shop.

The friendly proprietor was beautiful, but had fair skin and strawberry blonde hair, and she claimed Indian ancestry also, being from West Palm Beach area.

At another thrift store, same road, is a huge crafting section. We bought a “Blue Boy” sculpture for $10, and a previewed western DVD, The Quick and the Dead, that Keith wanted. The proprietor is a somewhat suspicious yet gentle lady who lives in the back, takes in rescue animals, such as wounded dogs and cats, who roam the store. One warning: the aroma inside was “litter box.” She explained that she has had multiple experiences with shoplifters. We enjoyed our visit with her.

Smoky Mountains Country Club

THE GOLF EXPERIENCE


“Just to say we did,” and to try out Keith’s new golf clubs, we drove only 2 miles to Whittier to the nearest golf course, Smoky Mountain Country Club. We congratulated ourselves again on choosing to stay at Ela Campground because it was a handy gateway to everything. The pro shop and restaurant is called the Persimmon Grill and we were relieved to find the course is open to the public. Situated in a circular valley surrounded by the mountains, it was a feast for the eyes just driving to it. I’m not a golfer, so I photographed his golf swing as he hit a $3 bucket of balls in the driving range. He did not play a round of golf due to a hand injury.


THE DINING OUT EXPERIENCE

Our one meal “out” was a homestyle one at Granny’s Restaurant, a fixture in Cherokee. The present owner has operated it for 27 years, but the establishment goes back many more years under a different name. You can’t miss the big retro red neon sign that just begs you to turn in to the parking lot.

Inside, Granny’s was busy for supper hour, and serving the many families enjoying the medium sized buffet. The place is brightly decorated in shiny pine beadboard and copper tiled ceilings, cream Indian pattern wallpaper, antique finish ceiling fans, and tiffany lights. I had the tenderest hand carved roast beef, new potatoes, green beans, fried apples, chocolate pudding, and small assorted salad plate: mixed greens with tomato and cucumber, coleslaw and potato salad, with Thousand Island dressing, and yeast roll. Keith dined on a big plate of fried chicken, ribs, macaroni, and salad. The all- you- can- eat buffet meal was $11.95 and drinks are $1.86. A bargain!
We have one more day in the Smokies…

I came, I saw, I camped. Now if only I could get a camping badge for the sash of my old Girl Scout uniform. I can’t wait to plan our next trip to the Great Smoky Mountains.//
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TIP: Bring tennis shoes for town and hiking boots for excursions. Flip flops will NOT, I repeat, NOT protect your feet from all the rocks and pebbles that are abundant. Bugs are not a problem like in Florida, but I used Avon Skin-So-Soft and it works. We did use a wasp repellent once near the cabin. Temperatures can vary in summer from 50 – 80 degrees. August will be the hottest month.

Ela Campground is at 5100 Ela Drive, Bryson City, North Carolina. You can reach it on Hwy… Reservations at number, Rates in cabins are $60 per night (If you book 7 days, the six and seventh night is free) , “Ela’s Best” is $125-150/night. Tent sites are $24.00

Unto These Hills tickets can be bought singly from $8 to $22 Price is determined by seating location. We sat in general admission.
Museum admission is $18 adult, $10 child
Art Gallery admission and gift shop is free, and no one asked us to show our tickets.
Oconoluftee Cherokee IndianVillage admission is $18 adult, $10 child
Deep Creek Tubing and Camping. $17 night
Cherokee city limits are the same as the Cherokee reservation.
Cades Cove, Clingman’s Dome, Oconoluftee Visitor Center and Mountain Farm Museum are national parks with free admission. They accept donations and gift shop purchases sustain the park.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oconaluftee_(Great_Smoky_Mountains)

http://www.smokiesadventure.com/smokymountains/outdoors/scenic-drives.htm

Almond Boat Launch is $5 per launch for boats, $3 for a canoe.
Smoky Mountain Country Club, $3 for a bucket of balls.
Granny’s Restaurant, buffet $11.95 and $1.86 for drinks.
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