Monday, March 23, 2009

A Summer Visitor's Guide: Clingmans Dome (Pt. 4 of 4)

Our peak season trip has taken us to most of the well-known sites in the Smoky Mountains in a single day: Cades Cove, Little River, the Sugarlands area, Newfound Gap Road, and Cherokee. This has been a 99% road trip with very little walking. (Some other time you might try some easy “self-guided nature trails” with $1 brochures available at the visitor centers; for example, Cove Hardwoods Nature Trail at the Chimneys Picnic Area.) The one ingredient still missing from our one-day road trip is Clingmans Dome, the highest peak in the Smokies.

By now it’s getting to be late afternoon, so we’ll head to Clingmans Dome. Traffic will start to dwindle around 4 or 5 pm as folks head to restaurants and picnic areas or to Cades Cove for an evening drive around the loop, so Clingmans Dome parking lot will have some empty spots for us. In fact, this is exactly why we’ve saved this for the end of our day, to do exactly the opposite of what the teeming masses do.

The drive from Cherokee back up to Newfound Gap is a beautiful drive, of course. Clingmans Dome is visible ahead and to your left at a couple of points along the way. It’s not extremely obvious, but if you are a map-and-compass type of person, you can locate it fairly easily. Specifically, when you see the asphalt walkways along the left (west) side of the road near mile markers 17 and 18, stop and take a look. If you have a pair of binoculars, you may be able to see the observation tower and an antenna on Clingmans’ peak.

Just before you arrive at Newfound Gap, you’ll see the signs for Clingmans Dome pointing to the left. Take this road which winds along the main crest for seven miles. Actually, the road is in North Carolina; the state line and the Appalachian Trail are both on the top of the slope to your right. Notice that many of the trees are the high elevation types. The ones that look like huge Christmas trees are Red Spruce. There are also a few Frasier Firs, but they are small because they die once they get ten or fifteen feet tall. The easiest way to tell them apart is to examine the needles. Firs have soft, rounded ends; spruce have stiffer needles with pointed ends.

Once you arrive at the parking lot at the end of the road, you’ll see the wide, paved trail heading up hill. It’s a fairly steep, but pleasant and brief, climb to the top. It will take you about 30 minutes to get to the concrete observation tower, which will probably be full of people. If you’ve arrived around supper time, but well before sunset, then the crowd is probably starting to dissipate, but there will be a surge of people around sunset, so be prepared if you decide to stay that long. (The road is open 24/7.) Now would be a good time to walk around in the spruce (and fir) forest at this high elevation.

One other detail that you ought to be aware of, and you ought to warn your visitors about – the view isn’t very good during the summer. The mixture of humidity and pollution creates a bowl of haze that significantly reduces the view from May through September. Just another sad fact of modern life. Maybe tell your visitors to come back in April or, better yet, November when the views are fabulous. And, yes, it will have to be those two months because the Clingmans Dome Road is closed from December 1 to March 31.

Finally, I have good news and bad news about your trip home. The good news: there’s a bypass around Gatlinburg. Look for the signs soon after Sugarlands Visitor Center. The bad news: there’s no bypass around Pigeon Forge and Sevierville. (There are a few back roads that are helpful, but they can’t work miracles. See www.greghoover.blogspot.com for more info.) The next hour or two of summer evening traffic in those two towns are the price you must pay for visiting the park in the peak season. The only alternative I can think of is to find a Waffle House and hang out until midnight. Maybe by then the traffic will have died down. Maybe.



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Back roads to get you to Sugarlands and US 441 in the Smokies

If you are seeking noise, excitement, and attractions, then it is this main Hwy. 66 & US 441 corridor through Sevierville and Pigeon Forge that you must visit. If you are seeking quiet and solitude, you must avoid it at all costs. I understand the appeal of the US 441 corridor. There’s a lot of stuff to do and places to eat. It’s the kind of thing that today’s kids (and many adults) enjoy. Let me re-phrase that: I don’t really understand the appeal because it doesn’t appeal to me. I’ll just say that I recognize the appeal of the corridor. It appeals to a lot of people.

I really, really, really avoid the entire main tourist corridor (Exit 407, Sevierville, Pigeon Forge, Gatlinburg, Newfound Gap, Cherokee) during the main season (weekends in April and May, everyday from Memorial Day through Labor Day, the last three weeks of October, and the Christmas-New Year week). The only exception is if I’ll be on the road early in the morning or late at night. Otherwise, during these peak visitation times, I go to less-popular sites such as Big Creek, Greenbrier, Raven Fork, Forney Creek, Cataloochee, and Cosby.

Just so you’ll know driving times. From Exit #407 to Sugarlands Visitor Center, the best you can realistically expect when traffic is light or non-existent is 45 minutes. During the heavy traffic of peak season you can add anywhere from 30 minutes to hours to this travel time.

Nevertheless, here are a few back roads that will help a little.


Bypass Gatlinburg
If you intend to visit the park, not Gatlinburg, always use the Gatlinburg Bypass that takes you directly to Sugarlands without going through Gatlinburg at all. You’ll see the sign for it near the Gatlinburg Welcome Center (about a mile north of town) if you drive from Pigeon Forge into Gatlinburg. If you are driving out of the park toward Gatlinburg, you’ll see the sign soon after you pass the Sugarlands Visitor Center.


Back roads in Pigeon Forge & Sevierville
If you are driving from Sevierville into Pigeon Forge (toward the park), one of the first traffic lights in Pigeon Forge is Teaster Lane. To miss a lot of Pigeon Forge’s traffic, turn left on Teaster Lane and follow it for 2.3 miles until it runs into Veterans Blvd. Turn right on Veterans and stay on it for about half a mile until its name changes to Dollywood Lane and runs back into US 441 near the lower end of Pigeon Forge at traffic light #8. (At this point, if you’ll look around you’ll see that you could turn left before traffic light #8 on441 and travel down small side roads to traffic light #10 which is even closer to the park.) You’ll have missed most of US 441 in Pigeon Forge.

These same directions, headed in the reverse direction (heading out of the park) are: If you are driving out of the park and north toward Sevierville and I-40, soon after you enter Pigeon Forge, turn right at traffic light #8 (Dollywood Lane). In less than a quarter mile Dollywood Lane bears to the right but you should go straight on Veterans Blvd. After less than half a mile on Veterans Blvd. you’ll turn left on Teaster Lane. After about 2 miles on Teaster you’ll come to US 441. Turn right and you are headed into Sevierville.

A good variation of this route that may help even more: Don’t use Teaster. Just stay on Veterans Blvd. It comes out on US 411 in the outskirts of Sevierville, just two or three miles from Hwy 66.


US 321 to Gatlinburg & Sugarlands
There’s a completely different route into the Gatlinburg/Sugarlands area from the Jefferson/Hamblen area. You might want to acquaint yourself with it to see if it might work for you. I’ve used it on heavy traffic days and it seems to help; although, this route is a little longer distance than the Exit #407 (Sevierville-Pigeon Forge-US 441) route.

Take I-40 east to exit #440 (Wilton Springs/Gatlinburg/To US 321) or the Foothills Parkway exit #443 (a very scenic drive). Either of these takes you to US 321. Stay on US 321 South all the way into Gatlinburg. In Gatlinburg you’ll turn left onto US 441 at traffic light #3. At this point you can stay on US 441 through the middle of Gatlinburg or you can try to avoid some of this traffic by bearing to the right at traffic light #5 (River Road). This road parallels US 441 for almost a mile. It’s a narrow road, but if traffic is bad in downtown Gatlinburg, this road may save you a few minutes. Continue straight on this road and it will lead you out of Gatlinburg and into the park.

It’s also possible to turn RIGHT onto 441 at traffic light #3 and drive north out of Gatlinburg. Then at the Welcome Center just outside of town, make a U turn and head back toward Gatlinburg, but you’ll soon bear to the right onto the Gatlinburg Bypass, which will take you directly to the park. I do this if traffic in Gatlinburg is very heavy.

One last back road in Gatlinburg is a bit narrow and winding, but it might help if traffic is horrendous. As you approach Gatlinburg on US 321 from Cosby and I-40 find traffic light #2A (on US 321, before you reach US 441) and turn right onto Dudley Creek Bypass Road. This short road will take you to US 441 on the north end of town, allowing you to get out of Gatlinburg to the north. (There’s one sudden, hidden stop sign on Dudley, so be careful.) Once you are north of Gatlinburg (like you are going to Pigeon Forge), make the U turn at the Gatlinburg Visitor Center and head back toward Gatlinburg, but take the Gatlinburg Bypass to go directly into the park at Sugarlands.

I have timed some of these alternate routes, and here’s what I’ve found. From Exit #417 in Jefferson County where I live, I can make it to Sugarlands Visitor Center via Sevierville and Pigeon Forge in 55 minutes (if traffic is very, very light – which it rarely is). I can make it to Sugarlands via this alternate route (I-40 East and US 321 through Cosby) in about 65 minutes (again, if traffic is very light). So this alternate route is 10 minutes longer if traffic is light and if you are starting at Exit #417. So if you think there’s 10 minutes worth of traffic in Sevierville and Pigeon Forge, this alternate route may be worth a try – although don’t forget that if traffic is heavy in Sevierville and Pigeon Forge, it might be a bit heavy on US 321 and in Gatlinburg, too.

On these heavy-traffic, peak season days, I avoid the crowded parts of the park. But if I must travel to the Sugarlands area of the park, I travel that crowded corridor early in the morning and/or late at night, or I use the US 321 alternate route.

I would add that getting to Cades Cove during the peak season is equally horrible because the main road to Cades Cove is Wears Valley Road in Pigeon Forge. If you try this route, you must travel through the thickest part of the traffic of Sevierville and Pigeon Forge. The alternate to this is to enter from the Maryville/Knoxville area on US 321 and Hwy 73. There’s also a very winding route from Jefferson County via John Sevier Hwy, US 441, US 411, back roads near Walland, and US 321. I can’t even begin to describe it, but if you’ll study a local map, you might be able to figure it out. This is the route I’d take from Jefferson County to Cades Cove during the peak season.

Monday, March 9, 2009

A Summer Visitor's Guide: Newfound Gap Road (Part 3 of 4)

Our early morning was spent in Cades Cove, avoiding the worst crowds that will soon arrive, peaking in the evening, and we are now driving east along the Little River. We’ll soon be at Sugarlands Visitor Center, just south of Gatlinburg.

Because we are trying to see the most popular spots in the park during the peak season, while avoiding the worst of the crowds, here’s a useful piece of advice: don’t eat at the same time everyone else does. We’ll stop at a picnic area (maybe Metcalf Bottoms between Tremont and Elkmont) or a roadside pullout and eat lunch around 10 or 11 am. This will help us to avoid the noon lunch rush when most good parking spots are taken by picnickers. We’ll eat while they are driving and drive while they are eating.

For a general introduction to the park, a stop at the Sugarlands Visitor Center would be helpful, but not absolutely necessary. One good way to decide whether you’ll stop or not is to let fate decide. Drive through the parking lot. If you can find an open spot, park and go inside the visitor center. If there’s no parking available, then skip it and continue a minute or two to the point where the Little River Road joins the Newfound Gap Road. Turn right and you’ll begin your 13 mile ascent up to Newfound Gap. Traffic is getting heavy now, so keep repeating to yourself: “I’m not in a hurry, I’m not in a hurry.”

On this segment of the road there are numerous scenic pullouts. Stop at whichever ones are appealing and available. Keep in mind that you are driving on one of the prettiest roads in America, so enjoy the ride.

One of the most interesting views is the Chimney Tops. A few minutes after you pass the Chimneys Picnic area, you’ll see the Chimney Tops in the distance on your right. There are several parking pullouts on the right. They are usually crowded, but if you can find a spot, stop and take some pictures of your relatives with the Chimney Tops in the background. Remember, they are here to do what most visitors do, and most visitors get this picture as proof that they’ve done exactly what’s expected of them.

You’ll soon see even more cars parked on the right at the trailhead of the Chimney Tops Trail – a strenuous, two mile trail to the top of the Chimney Tops. It’s a great hike that your relatives should do some time – but there won’t be time (or parking spaces) today.

After some dramatic views on the upper portions of this road, you’ll arrive at Newfound Gap, which is really just a big parking lot. But it’s a parking lot with some good views, mostly south into North Carolina. Take a picture of the kids straddling the state line, then continue south toward Cherokee.

In less than a mile past Newfound Gap, you’ll pass the road to Clingmans Dome, the highest peak in the Smokies. Of course, that’s one of the places we’ll have to visit, but not yet. It’s too crowded at this time of day. We’ll come back by this spot later today, when the crowds have thinned out.

Continue down Newfound Gap Road, stopping whenever the views compel you, toward Cherokee, NC, the main town on the Cherokee Reservation, officially known as the Qualla Reservation. Before you get to Cherokee, you’ll pass the Oconaluftee Visitor Center and the Farm Museum on the left. This spot is old and quaint and worth a stop. You could easily spend an hour or two wandering along the river and through the old buildings – unless you got your fill of old buildings in Cades Cove. After this stop, continue on to the town of Cherokee.

Cherokee will be crowded and a bit frustrating – welcome to the tourist season. If possible, spend a few hours in Cherokee. A lot of Cherokee is too shiny and cheap for my tastes, but it does have a unique kind of charm. Plus, there are a few glimpses of traditional Cherokee life – mainly the Cherokee Museum in the middle of town. A good rule of thumb would be that you spend as much time in the museum as you do in the souvenir shops, just to let your relatives know that you haven’t yet fallen victim to the “shop ‘til you drop” mentality that saturates our popular culture, even on the main thoroughfare of an Indian reservation.

Before you leave Cherokee to head back into the mountains, don’t forget your eating schedule. Find a restaurant or picnic area in the middle of the afternoon, before everyone else stops to eat supper. [To be continued; for a useful back road through Cherokee, see www.greghoover.blogspot.com.]



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Personally, I wouldn’t visit Cherokee during the peak visitation months of June – August, plus October. However, this article gives a plan for a peak season visit, so here’s a tip that won’t solve all your traffic problems, but it can help.

Within Cherokee traffic can be a problem, especially on the two-lane portion of US 441 in the middle of town. But there is a back road to avoid this congested area: Big Cove and Acquoni Roads. If you are coming into Cherokee from the north (i.e. from the park), about a mile past the Oconaluftee Visitor Center, just before you get into the town of Cherokee, you’ll see a sign for Big Cove Road. Turn left here – it is Saunooke Bridge Road, leading across the river and ending at Big Cove Road. Turn right (south) on Big Cove Road and it will take you into a less congested section of Cherokee, ending at Acquoni Road. Turn left on Acquoni as it parallels and bypasses US 441 through Cherokee. Acquoni Road comes out on US 441 and US 19 at the lower (south) end of town. This section of town will be congested, but at least you avoided about a mile of equally congested asphalt.

A problem with this route is that it also bypasses the Cherokee Museum, which is something you probably ought to visit. (Of course, keep in mind that I’m a nerd who likes history and anthropology.) There’s also a riverside park that this back road will bypass. It’s a nice spot, but it will probably be crowded; plus there are lots of other riverside stops you can make today, so there’s no compelling need to stop at this park in Cherokee.

The official Cherokee website is www.cherokee-nc.com or call (800) 438-1601. Try to avoid Cherokee on a day when there’s some big bike week or similar event that will clog Cherokee even more than usual.

A Summer Visitor's Guide: Cades Cove (Part 2 of 4)

Visiting the Smoky Mountains during the peak, summer season can be a daunting task. Almost 10 million people visit the park every year, the most of any national park in the US. Almost half of them visit during the summer months from Memorial Day to Labor Day plus the last half of October. Of course, the easiest sites to visit are on the main roads, thus the traffic and the crowds on Newfound Gap Road, Clingmans Dome, and Cades Cove. But there are some strategies that will help you maintain your sanity.

Let’s assume that you want to see Cades Cove and Clingmans Dome, plus the sites along the main roads. To avoid the worst of the crowds I’d start my day with Cades Cove because most people wait until evening. They visit Clingmans Dome and the other trails and roads in the morning and early afternoon. By 4 pm most of these places are starting to empty out as visitors head to picnic areas in the park or the restaurants of the surrounding towns. After supper they’ll go to Cades Cove to look at the deer grazing in the fields. So we’ll visit most of these sites in the opposite order.

Yes, evenings are a nice time in the cove, and if this were the off-season, that’s when I would go, too. But during the peak season the evening traffic is unbelievably heavy, so a better option is the early morning while the animals are out but the people are not. Arrive at the loop road in Cades Cove a few minutes before dawn and park in the parking lot. If there’s a line of cars forming, don’t join it. Just park, get out of your car, and wander around in the field nearby or have an early morning picnic. Don’t sleep in and arrive at 9 am. That’s what too many people do. Make the sacrifice. Get up early. Arrive early. (The quickest route to Cades Cove from Exit 407 is to cut across from Pigeon Forge to Townsend on US 321. It’s traffic light #3, Wears Valley Rd., in Pigeon Forge.)

When the ranger arrives to unlock the gate at dawn, the line of cars will rush into the cove. Be patient. Wait for 10 minutes. There will be a lull in the action after that initial rush. Now is the time to drive slowly into the cove. You won’t be completely alone – this is the peak season, after all – but the traffic will be meager. Take an hour or two to drive this 11 mile loop. Stop at cabins and meadows. Stop at the visitor center at the west end of the cove.

I won’t give you all the details of what to do in the cove. You can figure that out, but it might help to buy an auto tour booklet just after you enter the loop road in the cove. For more help visit the park’s website at www.nps.gov/grsm. There you’ll find maps and other suggestions. A good road guide to the park is Smokies Road Guide by Jerry DeLaughter. It’s sold in all the visitor centers, including the one at the west end of Cades Cove.

Once you finish Cades Cove you’ll head east toward Sugarlands Visitor Center. It will be almost mid-morning, so traffic will be picking up. There are many places to stop and relax as this road winds its way through the Little River gorge from Cades Cove to Sugarlands. This is probably the place to remind you that you are not in a hurry. Creeping along in slow-moving traffic on these main roads is not the end of the world. After all, these are roads on which you want to move slowly, taking in the scenery, so the main adjustment to be made on this road is mental – don’t get in a hurry. Don’t let the slow traffic bother you. On these roads in the park, slow is good, so think of the traffic as your friend – a somewhat annoying friend, but a friend nonetheless. Of course, outside the park traffic is an enemy to be conquered or avoided; in the park, not so much. At least, that’s the way you have to think about it to avoid a panic attack. [To be continued]

Thursday, February 19, 2009

A Summer Visitor’s Guide: The Popular Sites (1 of 4)


You’ve probably noticed that a consistent theme in this column about the Great Smoky Mountains National Park is this: avoid the crowds; whatever it takes, avoid the crowds. You can do this by visiting the less-famous sites in the park or going during the off-season, but we all have those inevitable moments when we don’t have much choice in the matter. Our relatives from out of town have one day to burn on their summer vacation, and they’d like you to show them around the park. What to do?

Well, dear reader, that depends on you and your relatives. If they refuse to get out of the car and insist on visiting the most popular spots during the middle of the day in the middle of July, then, yes, you will have problems with the crowds. You’d be better off just lying to them. Tell them the park is closed for repairs. Tell them the admission charge is $1,000 per car. Whatever you have to do, do not – I repeat, do not! – drive through Sevierville and Pigeon Forge during the daylight hours on a summer day, unless you enjoy the taste of carbon monoxide. It’s a trafficatastrophe of Biblical proportions.

However, if they are willing to be flexible, then you can avoid the worst of the crowds. During the peak visitation months of June, July, August (plus most of October, the Christmas-New Year week, and weekends in May), you’ll encounter crowds, especially at the most popular sites. However, there are some ways to limit the madness.

If the typical visitor were going to spend just one day in the park, it would make sense that they’d want to visit the well-known sites. That’s understandable. If I went to Yellowstone, I’d be happy to wander around the backcountry, visiting the untouched wilderness, but I’d also want to see Old Faithful, simply to be able to hold up my end of the conversation. “You mean to tell me you went to Yellowstone and didn’t see Old Faithful? Are you sure you were in Yellowstone, in Wyoming? The national park?” I’d have no defense. If you go to Yellowstone, there are certain things you are expected to see. Ditto the Smokies.

So what is the typical visitor to the Smokies expected to see?

First of all, every visitor has to drive the main road (Newfound Gap Road) from Sugarlands Visitor Center (near Gatlinburg) south over the main ridge crest at Newfound Gap and down into the Cherokee Indian Reservation in North Carolina. The main points worth seeing on this road are Sugarlands Visitor Center, the Chimney Tops (a pair of rocky peaks), Newfound Gap (a large parking lot with good views), Oconaluftee Visitor Center and Farm Museum, Cherokee Indian Reservation, and the numerous roadside views and pullouts. Also, near the midpoint at Newfound Gap, there is a side road that wanders seven miles along the state line to Clingmans Dome, the highest mountain top in the park, with a concrete observation tower at the top.

The other main road in the park also starts at Sugarlands Visitor Center and heads west about twenty miles to Cades Cove. On this road, there are two main sights on the way to Cades Cove: Laurel Falls and Little River. Laurel Falls is a beautiful but crowded spot at the end of a 1.3 mile walk. It’s definitely worth the walk, but it’s almost impossible to find a parking spot on a typical day of the peak season. Like many popular hikes in the Smokies, you have to arrive before 9 am or after 4 pm.

Little River, the wonderful stream that parallels this road for much of its length, is popular with picnickers, tubers, and fishermen. Stop and enjoy this beautiful part of the park while you drive on this road. And, of course, this road’s destination is one of the most beautiful places on the planet. Seriously. Cades Cove.

Most visitors see Cades Cove by driving the 11 mile, single-lane, one-way road past deer, turkeys, meadows, cabins, and an occasional bear. If I could do just one thing as a first-time visitor, this loop road would be it.

So that’s it – the three main roads and their best sights: Newfound Gap Road, Clingmans Dome Road, and the road to and in Cades Cove. These are the roads you must travel and the sights you must see. But how? When? Let’s come up with a plan. [To be continued; for information on some Smokies websites, visit www.greghoover.blogspot.com.]


Extra Website Info:

The official, government Smokies website is www.nps.gov/grsm. If you’ll look around here you’ll find a helpful Trip Planner. There are also several digital (pdf) maps you can download, mainly a Park Map and a Trails Map.

The Great Smoky Mountains Association is the educational and publishing arm of the park. It has two websites: www.SmokiesStore.org or www.SmokiesInformation.org.

Another related organization is Friends of the Smokies. Visit their website at http://www.friendsofthesmokies.org/.

Finally, there is a visitor center outside the park, very close to the #407 exit off I-40. From I-40 travel south on Hwy 66 (the highway leading to Sevierville, etc.) for 1.5 miles. The visitor center is on the right – a new building of red brick, white wood, and a green roof. It is mostly a store, selling books, maps, etc. It also has one “exhibit” – a nice 3 D map of the Smokies. The folks who work there are helpful and reasonably knowledgeable about the park. They can answer most questions that the typical visitors ask.

Carnage on the River


The great circle of life. One generation grows and prospers, only to pass the torch to the next. Yeah, that sounds good, but if you’ll think about it, that circle of life consists partly (fifty percent, I suppose) of death. Out there in the natural world, a generation of animals will thrive only at the expense of someone or something else. I suppose that works for plants, too. Kudzu smothers everything in its path.

Keith Oakes and I saw the death side of that circle on display last May on the Clinch River. We both are fly fishermen. No, let me re-phrase that. We both fly fish. Calling ourselves “fly fisherman” somehow sounds like we should be good at it. Saying “we fly fish” sounds a bit more modest, not to mention true.

We drove up to the Clinton and Norris area and wound around a few back roads to a certain boat ramp that provides access to the river downstream from Norris Dam. This boat ramp is no great secret, but being a fisherman – I mean, being a guy who fishes – I just can’t bring myself to give too many details. I’ve rarely been accused of having too many ethics, but there is a certain code among guys who fish about giving too much information.

So we arrived at the boat ramp, put my old canoe in the water, and paddled a few minutes to a nice spot where we could get out and wade among the shoals and moving water. Fly fishing for trout usually involves wading in knee to waist deep water, looking for the occasional splash of a fish feeding on some bug on or near the surface. And on this day in early May that’s exactly what we found – rainbow trout feeding on Sulfur Mayflies.

In the five or six hours that we were on the river, there was a steady trickle of Sulfurs coming off the surface and flying away to the trees. Or, that’s what is supposed to happen. The trout and the birds do their best to interrupt that water-to-tree migration.

We’d wade around until we’d see or hear a splash of a trout nabbing a mayfly off the surface. When we’d hear a splash, we could usually find the spot by locating the ring of ripples moving downstream. We’d cast there, letting our fly float repeatedly over the spot until the fish decided to take it. Or, if you are really into watching the natural cycle unfold, you can watch that general vicinity as another Sulfur floats by and is sucked in by the fish. Occasionally, a mayfly will bounce along the surface, trying to fly away on tender, new wings, when a trout will jump out of the water and take it in mid-air. The poor mayflies have no defense against this attack from below. In fact, the only thing that guarantees their species’ survival is their massive numbers. Like an army, individuals are expendable; it’s the species that must survive. And it does.

And the death-scene got even worse. An army of insect-eating birds – tree swallows and cliff swallows – moved in as reinforcements. I’d often find myself watching a mayfly who had escaped the fish’s jaws flying away, only to be picked out of mid-air be a speeding swallow. These birds are so fast and sleek that it sometimes looks like the bug just disappears in mid-air, right before your eyes.

Death from below and death from above. It was pure carnage; death was everywhere. It was pretty cool… but also a bit sobering. Every moment of every day, we are surrounded by death on a massive scale. Invisible, relentless slaughter. It happens in the dirt, in the air, on TVA lakes and rivers, in front yards, and on mountain peaks.

We live in a fallen world where death not only happens, it happens often, and everywhere. It’s the rule, not the exception. And yet, from death, life comes. In fact, because of death, life comes. I think I see some religious symbolism here. The death of One brings life to another. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that before, somewhere.

The only ones not involved in the killing were Keith and me. We were catching fish (a lot of them, actually), but we always threw them back. Nevertheless, by the end of the day, even I got in on the killing: I had a tuna sub at Subway. A fish and a tomato died that I might eat. I know, not very dramatic. But like I said, the great circle of life and death happens everywhere, even indoors under fluorescent lights.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Colorful Language

I don‘t know if our Native Americans were exceptionally eloquent, but I do know that their language was earthy. Literally earthy. Many of their phrases and metaphors are born of the forests, rivers, plains, mountains, and seasons. So if you love the outdoors, you’ll love the manner in which they expressed themselves.

Black Elk, a Lakota (Sioux) holy man who had lived through the waning days of the Lakota nation in the 1870s and 80s, described a day from his youth when he challenged an older man to a horse race. His opponent taunted him by saying, “only crows and coyotes think your horse is better than mine.” Apparently crows and coyotes (the garbage collectors of our natural world) were not highly esteemed by the Lakota.

You’ve probably heard of the phrases in the old treaties which promised that the Indians could keep their land, unmolested by settlers and the army, “for as long as the grass grows and the water flows.” Those were words any Native American could understand. Many years after the Lakota had lost their land, Black Elk offered this wry observation, “You can see that it is not the grass and the water that have forgotten.” He also explained that trying to hold on to their homeland had been like “melting snow held in our hands.”

Black Elk tried to explain a life-changing vision from his youth but had trouble describing it: “When the part of me that talks would try to make words for the meaning, it would be like fog and get away from me.” What a great image to describe the problem we’ve all had of trying to describe the indescribable. Many years later he added,” I did not have to remember these things; they have remembered themselves all these years.”

In describing a council meeting in which nothing was resolved, he said, “They talked for days, but in the end it was just like wind blowing.” I doubt that Black Elk was familiar with the book of Ecclesiastes, so it’s interesting that his metaphor is similar to Solomon’s idea of fruitless labor being like “chasing after the wind.” And of course, Bob Dylan had some thoughts on answers blowing in the wind. Great minds think alike.

Animals, grass, fog, snow, rivers, wind. They described life in metaphors that sprang from the natural world. But they were more than poetic. The Native Americans were also insightful.

People have difficulty looking at their own society objectively. We tend to be blinded by the present, by our own way of doing things, so we can gain some insight into our own strengths and frailties by listening to the words of outsiders.

For example, the Cherokee and the Lakota described gold as “the yellow metal that they [whites] worship” and “that makes them crazy.” Of course, we’d all deny that we worship gold, but how else could an outsider interpret what he saw? Gold rush, gold craze, gold worship. And haven’t I read somewhere of a calf made of gold? Sure, you and I may just think of gold as a sign of love or commitment, but the gold has to come from somewhere, often at a very high price – a people’s way of life.

One of the most telling Native American quotes I’ve ever run across came from the Cherokee chief Yonaguska, probably during the 1830s. A missionary read a bit of the New Testament to him. After listening politely, he made a classic statement: “It seems to be a good book. Strange the white man isn’t better after having had it for so long.” Ouch!

Sure, we can quibble about the validity of judging an entire society or race based on the actions of a few. We can question whether those that Yonaguska had encountered were patterning their lives after the Bible. We can pick nits, or we can admit that Yonaguska was on to something. Undoubtedly, virtually every white person the Cherokee had encountered in the previous 100 years would claim to be a Christian, a believer in the Bible, even if they’d never read it. This was the early 1800s, when America was as thoroughly a “Christian nation” as it would ever be. And yet it was a nation that killed the native people with reckless abandon, while thanking God for providing an unoccupied, open wilderness for His New Jerusalem to be established by His new, chosen people. It’s a great story… if you love irony and hypocrisy, not to mention murder, deception, and greed.

The language of the oppressed often speaks the truth. It’s even better when it is spoken in such colorful language.

The Two Sides of Cherokee

I’ve always liked Cherokee, NC, probably because I first saw it as a child. A kid just can’t resist the wiles of Cherokee – real Indians, teepees, totem poles, live bears, souvenir shops. In the days before Disney World and video games, it was everything that a kid could possibly want. But like most of our illusions of youth, the charm of Cherokee gets a bit tarnished as the years go by. We learn that those real Indians are wearing eagle feather war bonnets that were part of the Plains tribes, not the Cherokee. Ditto the teepees. Totem poles? The Kwakiutl and Haida tribes of the north Pacific coast. The souvenirs? Mostly cheap trinkets, some of which are made in China.

On the other hand, I guess you’ve gotta make a living. Very few of us have ideal jobs that have no gray areas, and in a sense, what makes something “authentically Cherokee” anyway? If the Eastern Band of the Cherokee builds a casino or a McDonalds or low-cost apartments, I suppose that’s authentic Cherokee. Traditional Cherokee? No. Authentic? Yeah, sort of. It’s Cherokee people who are doing it, so that makes it authentic, right?

But there are some things in Cherokee that I just can’t bear. For example, in 1828 something happened that guaranteed the Cherokee people would lose their remaining shreds of land and would be sent west. Gold was discovered on Cherokee land in the mountains of North Georgia. So when I see a gold mine for tourists (“Pan for gold! Strike it rich!”) on the main road of Cherokee with a picture of a white prospector panning for gold, I can’t bear to look. Why hasn’t that place been struck by lightning? And why do the Cherokee people put up with it?

Just a moment of thought about human nature, history, economics, and tradition provides a quick answer. From the very beginning of white contact with the natives – both east and west – the tribe would divide into two groups. One faction wanted nothing to do with the whites. These people would usually just ignore the whites, or move further west, or eventually fight. The other faction was enticed by the products of European civilization – knives, guns, cloth, beads, alcohol. These were the ones who eventually sided with the whites because it was obvious that the whites were powerful and numerous and would ultimately win the war. The Sioux called these people “those who hang around the fort.” They became collaborators with the invaders. Or maybe they were just wise and pragmatic, choosing to go with the flow of the inevitable.

The same thing still happens today on most Indian reservations, including the Qualla (Cherokee) Reservation. There are those who are willing to pander to the stereotypes and dollars of tourists. Why? Because you gotta do what you gotta do. And one of the things you “gotta do” is make a living, in this case by serving the tourists. And it works. You can make a decent living from the tourist dollar in the town of Cherokee, but a traditional Cherokee might call these kinsmen “those who hang around the town.”

But there is undoubtedly the other group, a group which probably gets a little smaller every year as the youngest generation is enticed by money, video games, Hollywood, MTV, and that whole wasteland we call American popular culture. The traditional group doesn’t like the tourist town and what it has become and what it portrays. Maybe they don’t like the traffic. Maybe they don’t like the teepees and totem poles. Maybe they are still mad about the Trail of Tears the way some Southerners are still mad about the burning of Atlanta. They just want to be left alone, so they live away from town in the rural parts of the reservation. You probably don’t see these folks in town, except at the grocery or hardware store.

So, if you want to see traditional, authentic Cherokee people, untainted by tourism and pop culture, the museum might be helpful, or get away from the Casino and shops and spend some time at a small grocery store or hardware store on the edge of town. Just watch and listen. In that respect, the reservation is no different than any other county. If you want to see the heart and soul of a place, go to those living museums where average people buy their necessities: grocery stores, co-ops, hardware stores, gas stations. In spite of our historical and cultural differences, there are still a few things that we all have in common.