Mountains

Besides the friends I went to see, the one thing I wanted to do on the trip was see the Great Smoky Mountains. Years ago I had driven the Blue Ridge Parkway through Virginia, but never ventured as far south as the Smokies.

The second day I spent in Knoxville, Jason had to take his ESL class on a field trip, so he invited me along. Our destination happened to be Gatlinburg, clasped in the bosom of the Smokies, a town where my mother's parents used to vacation every summer. I didn't know whether any of the rest of my family had ever visited the place, so it seemed a worthwhile adventure, a tale to carry home.

There was nothing idyllic about Gatlinburg. The streets were swarming. Clots of sweaty people pressed into a wax museum, while a creepy Tom Cruise hovered motionlessly overhead. Blue and orange lights flickered along a dimly lit arcade. On such a hot day, I couldn't understand why the hotel pool stood empty; maybe it was the poisonous blue colour. This used to be modelled on a Swiss or German mountain village, but the ambiance is long faded. The mountains are barely visible except through meagre vistas, pressed between hotel towers. A chairlift tears a gaping scar.

But here's the thing. Jason could have taken me touring through Hell and I wouldn't have complained. In such enjoyable company, Gatlinburg was a gas.

The next day (Friday) was really the only one with time to myself. Besides seven hours of driving from Knoxville back to Pittsburgh, I had enough hours to spare for a side trip into the Smoky Mountains proper. I drove to the highest peak in the range, Clingman's Dome at 6,643 ft. (2,025 m). The peak was mostly shrouded in cloud (and what a strange sensation it was to ascend by footpath, and hear the spaciousness die around me as I mounted into that fog). Near the peak lay a bleeding meadow of Mondarda didyma, heavily populated by hummingbirds.

The dead trees in these photos are Fraser firs, Abies fraseri. A wingless insect, introduced accidentally from Europe, has wiped out about more than 90 per cent of the trees.

On Tuesday I went to the walk-in clinic complaining of a ringing ear, and it turns out I have an ear infection. Now, considering some trouble I've had with my jaw and ear recently, I suspect the infection has been hanging on for two months or more. Apparently my trip into the mountains, with the change in altitude, finally brought it to the fore. Now I'm on antibiotics again.




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