Traveling the Cherohala

Morning on the Cherohala

Cherohala Skyway, part of the National Scenic Byways system, is a forty-three mile road that winds through some of the most beautiful, historic land in southern Appalachia. It connects the towns of Tellico Plains, Tennessee and Robbinsville, North Carolina and crosses both the Cherokee and Nantahala National Forests — hence the name “Chero-hala”. A trip on the Cherohala is memorable and inspiring. National Geographic includes the Skyway on their website in a series called “Drives of a Lifetime“.

Driving time for the Cherohala is listed on the America’s Byways website at about two hours, one-way. This is a conservative estimate — you’d best allow a good part of the day, as there are lots of trails, enticing views, and stopovers to savor before returning to home base.

The highest point of the Skyway (at 5390′ elevation) is on the North Carolina side, but most of the best long-range views are in Tennessee. In late spring, the mountains are very quiet except for the sound of occasional motorcycles coming through. We heard their approach long before they passed us by.

Picnic on the Edge

We stopped near the crest of the Tennessee side of the mountain and saw this lone picnic table. It was very close to the edge of a lookout ( “LOOK OUT!”, in this case), above a very steep ravine. Maybe the low board enclosure around the table is supposed to create a sense of security. For me, it did not, but the lovely long-range views of blue mountains made up for any nagging sense of impending catastrophe.

Picnic Area, Looking Down

Travelling on the North Carolina section of the Skyway, we saw terrain that reminded me of the heath fields of Scotland. (Unfortunately, my camera’s memory card failed at this point and I have no photos to demonstrate). There is a diversity of plants and habitats all along the Byway and side trails. This calls for repeat visits to take it all in.

The sign to Snowbird Lodge shows that you’re nearing the end of the Skyway, which is eleven miles away in Robbinsville. If you’re returning to Knoxville or Nashville, you might consider a different route home. The Tail of the Dragon (highway 129) is a two-lane, eleven-mile road that eventually ends up near Fontana Dam.  To get there, you will navigate 318 curves. These are some serious curves — if you are prone to motion sickness, go a different way. The last time I travelled this road was in the 1980′s, on the way to the old-growth Joyce Kilmer Forest. I vowed that I would never again set tire or body on the Dragon and I have kept that promise. The Cherohala Skyway? I’ll go back anytime.

View from Snowbird Lodge

 

The Emotional Appeal of Barns

Keeper of the Past

Old barns are disappearing from the fields and mountains of Appalachia and from rural landscapes across the country. Sometimes these venerable structures collapse from the unintentional neglect of their caretakers, who become physically or financially unable to maintain them. In other cases, the boards and rafters just give out after decades of adapting to weather extremes. Sometimes, barns are torn down; developers, businesses, or new landowners believe they no longer serve a purpose.

I can’t imagine a more functional category of buildings, yet barns are more than utilitarian. They proudly reflect the identity and architecture, as well as the agriculture, of their region. A cross-country drive through any state will tell you that. Some barns are round, some cantilevered; some are for curing tobacco, while others serve as cribs for housing livestock. Barns are different colors, and construction can be of stone, wood, or metal.

Whatever the material, I’m always touched by the eloquence of old barns. I wonder who worked there and what kind of animals were sheltered from the wind and rain. I try to imagine the farm equipment and the tools that are rusting inside. Most of all, I think about how important barns have been to farm families over the past century. Will a new generation of communities and landowners commit to preserving this cultural asset? I hope so.

Ag Day and the Spiders

Hitching a Ride

Each fall, the University of Tennessee sponsors Ag Day, an entertaining and informative way to showcase agricultural research and programs throughout the state. Children, in particular, are drawn to the colorful exhibits and bug collections at the Department of Entomology and Plant Pathology booth. Sometimes the imposing giant spiders and cockroaches get to leave their cages and come out to play. I saw a lot of mixed reactions in the crowd when this tarantula got its turn.

Sourwood: The Reddest Red

Red in Carolina

Over the years, I’ve recommended Oxydendron arboreum to my Tennessee clients as a good specimen tree for home landscapes. Sourwoods have multi-season interest, are a realistic size for small lots, and have fragrant, long-lasting white flowers that readily attract bees. As summer temperatures get increasingly hotter, though, sourwoods are having a harder time reaching their full potential for vigor and beauty in the cultivated landscapes of east Tennessee.

In western North Carolina, sourwoods seem to thrive in a diverse range of settings. I see these small native trees along highway ramps (not exactly a nurturing environment), the edge of pastures, even home and business landscapes, and they are lovely and vigorous. I think they just like the cooler temperatures of the mountains and reward us with their magnificent fall color in return.

Leaving Greenville

Blue Skies at Night: A Passenger's View

Opa!

Greekfest dancers

High school dancers from St. George  Greek Orthodox Church in Knoxville, Tennessee await their cue to begin performing a traditional Greek folk dance. Each year, church members share their heritage at a two-day celebration of Greek culture that includes food markets, cooking demonstrations, live music and tours of the church and its iconic religious art.

Reminder for next year: get more loukoumades – fresh, hot pastry puffs covered in a lemony, honey-cinnamon coating. Yum!

From the Breakfast Buffet

Pancake Day at Davy Crockett State Park

It’s somewhat strange to see a squirrel maneuvering a fully-formed pancake at five o’clock in the afternoon. Whether he’d saved it since breakfast (doubtful) or had grabbed it from someone’s campsite later in the day, he was very protective of his bounty. Each time I tried to get closer for a photograph, he walked a few steps on his hind feet, then turned his back to me as if to say, “Go do something else”, or “This thing’s dry and needs some syrup”.

Wild Frontier, Cultivated

Davy Crockett Birthplace

Growing up in western North Carolina, I heard a lot about Davy Crockett, the legendary “King of the Wild Frontier”. At school, we learned about Davy’s travels and hunting escapades. At home, my mother turned on the old victrola – if we were good – and played the well-loved theme song from Walt Disney’s movie about Davy. My dad brought home a coonskin cap once when he went out of town on business. I wasn’t impressed by the cap, but did think Davy was quite mysterious and handsome, overall.

Davy Crockett lived in this cabin when he was born in Limestone, Tennessee in 1786. Limestone was just over the mountains from where I lived, so it didn’t seem like much of a “frontier” to me. I now appreciate how hard life must have been for people in that time and place, although this well-manicured cabin by the Nolichucky River might suggest otherwise.