Shmokin

After mile upon mile of green mountain views that all pretty much merge into one along the Blue Ridge Parkway we end up at the Great Smokey Mountains. More of the same really. We've done about 700 miles along this stretch and it has stayed consistently the same view. We are changing states now as we head further south. From Virginia into North Carolina and briefly over the Smokeys into Tennessee.
We've already passed through a few towns that have now only photographs as memories and vague recollections of not much.

I do remember the struggle it was buying some milk after a night camping along the Blue Ridge Parkway. There aren't too many towns and when there is they are verging on hamlets. We find a shop that is high on art produce and vegan food but only has £2 soya milk. The only other shop in town was a cafe that kindly poured some of their milk into a take away coffee cup for a dollar. Odd.
Before we enter the Smokey Mountains we stop off at the North Carolina town of Asheville. The southern accent is now in full swing and people have started to look more and more like each other. Everyone's friendly enough though and we even get a free supper at the motel when checking in.
Asheville is an odd town. In a good way. There are no chain stores here and it was also once home to James Vanderbilt, a Dutch billionaire who built the biggest house in America. You can visit the house but I think it was $30 or something equally ridiculous.
Uptight business types speed walk through the main town square as numerous hip students and complete loons wander about in between. The sun is hot and buskers play in the background as we chat to a hot dog salesman who decides to go to work everyday wearing a giant chef's hat.
It wasn't long from here were we enter the uber-cheese fest of Cherokee. Named after the Cherokee Indians, this place is now a mecca to all that is tat and crass about the American Indian population. Tourism is number one here but the town still remains free of alcohol due to a similar belief held by the Aborigines of Australia, that it gets you hammered. Huge waddling people in Hawaiian shirts bumble about town looking at bad t-shirts depicting Indians with wolves and so forth. The town is also an overpriced place to stay so we're forced to camp just within the Smokey Mountain National park.

The rain stays away overnight as we struggle to keep our measly fire going. A fairly young couple on another pitch keep wandering into the dark woods to break off branches and dragging huge parts of trees to throw on their fire. Much giggling and the odd bit of maniacal laughter goes on during the couple of hours this goes on.
One road takes you across the Great Smokey Mountains into Tennesse and numerous OK views can be had along the way. The mid-point of the 30 mile winding drive gives good views over both Tennesse and North Carolina before dropping down into Tennesse and the town of Gatlinburg. Gatlinburg makes Cherokee seem like a quaint town. Like Blackpool with even fewer attractions.
The rain now is pounding the car and we take a scenic drive to make us feel better. It pays off as for the first time in my life I spot a bear living in it's natural habitat. Meandering about it doesn't pay much attention to the short line of cars now stopped taking photos. That is until I wind my window down and it begins to amble towards us. Let's go!
The rain is now a full blown torrent as we pass through the equally crummy town of Pigeon Forge. Much more interesting name than town. Although, this is Dolly Parton's hometown and where her own theme park and waterworld is based. Dollywood. It's along Dollywood Lane, who'd a thunk it? It's closed for the evening but I doubt even if it wasn't I would'nt have bothered going in.
To keep heading south we re-enter the Smokeys and finally see where the name comes from. The rain and the humidity create a smoking effect rising from the trees and above the mountains. Not a bad sight on horribly rainy day.

A royal front

From what was old British settlements we drive toward what seems like old British landscapes. Britain at one time was completley covered in trees and now we've arrived at Shenandoah National Park it seems this is what it could have looked like.
We stop overnight in a small town with an odd name, Front Royal, which is said that it took it's name from a royal oak tree in the centre. As the car's brakes have taken a hammering over the past 5 months I enquire about a price for fitting new brake pads. I thought £80 was a bit steep so buy some pads for £10 and decide to fit them myself in the next couple of days.
Steep winding roads take us up above town and into the start of what is an extremely long road. This road connects the Appalachian Mountains that make up Shenandoah National park and beyond with the Great Smokey Mountains around 750 miles away. The shear extent of a place like this is what America is all about, massive distance like that is hard to get into perspective.
Just in the Shenandoah National Park alone there are 75 viewpoints that enable you to pull over and take in the endless green mountain landscapes.


We soon learn after a few of these viewpoints that they're all pretty much the same for a good few hours. The landscape is excellent viewing but stopping at each of the 75 viewpoints would be mundane insanity. The hills seem to just roll on forever.
After hours of small towns and endless scenery we drop down into another American sprawl that is Roanoke. It seems that some of the people in our motel are actually living there and sure enough the next morning large black women are hanging around complaining whilst their scrawny partners are trying to lug all their belongings into a hired removal van.
I attempt to change the brake pads on the car in the heat of a deserted car park. After discovering we have been sold the wrong pads, can't find the receipt and struggling with overly tight bolts things don't appear to be going to well. But, luckily the car parts shop we bought the pads from are a national chain and there is one store in town that exchange the pads without a receipt, very helpful they are to. We've wasted most of the day by now and after sorting the breaks we need to get some gas for our cooking stove. Another task that takes forever as no place seems to have the correct one. We end up driving to a few stores all across town before we can finally head up to the Blue Ridge Parkway and to a camp site just as night falls. Maybe we should be worried about bears again but the camp ranger tells me none have been spotted just yet although they are due.
The Blue Ridge Parkway is the road that links the Shenandoah National Park with the Great Smokey Mountains and in itself is a long road and not that different than the parks themselves. A couple of postcard style shots can be taken along the way.

The picture above has been used in advertising material for other states like Connecticut and Maine, which is a lie for starters. The fact that this water mill was moved from another site and completely reconstructed for tourists doesn't stop it being one of the most photographed buildings in the country. On to the Smokeys!