Deep Creek, 1

We were at the Deep Creek area and campground in the Smokies most of August 1-20. There were brief respites back in Knoxville to get Le Sport's alternator/regulator replaced, briefly in the World Capital of Tawdriness (Gatlinburg/Pigeon Forge/Sevierville), and then in Waynesville, NC, to meet Rebecca and Penelope, who had driven over from Cary, NC, where they'd moved in April. Penelope was with us the last six days at Deep Creek, where we enjoyed hiking, tubing on the creek, campfires, camp cuisine, and playing the Paris art/architecture card game. Grandma and Grandpa did the creek tubing once each, the mild zone, but Penelope did the mild and moderate zones quite a few times, becoming expert at getting unstuck and at navigating the white water. The older (and heavier) river-runners in our party judged Deep Creek to be quite shallow--one local veteran said he'd never seen it so shallow--but not too shallow for an 11-year-old.

En route from Knoxville to Bryson City, after a big storm

Locals cutting the tree into manageable pieces, then moving it

A pretty waterfall contributing to Deep Creek

Another; no tubing beyond this point

Rhododendrons all around the creeks and hillsides; blooming
in May/June, we were told

Curious orange flowers...

"Mushrooms!"

Busy weekend day on the creek

Not our first visit to Deep Creek...Vicki in 1976

Losing but not big at the Cherokee/Caesar's casino

In Gatlinburg; tawdriness can be amusing in small
doses; in Tennessee, the world's longest such stretch
runs ten miles from Sevierville through Pigeon Forge
to Gatlinburg

We used to think the place worth a visit and an amusing blog post;
not anymore; it's just repulsive, in so many ways

With Rebecca and Penelope, at the estimable Frog Level Brewing
Company in Waynesville, NC

Penelope viewing the big waterfall

On a reconnaissance of the creek

Our campsite at Deep Creek; we didn't know it, but it would be
our last such outing in Le Sport...[cue ominous foreshadowing music...]

Penelope has befriended a butterfly

Embarking on their first run

Grandma tubing the big waters

And Penelope, eddied-out

To be continued...

Interim Update #1,269

So, as some will have surmised, we have been back in the States since July 5, dividing our time between visiting and apartment-sitting for Marie and Norm in Knoxville, the nearby Escapees' Raccoon Valley campground, and, currently, Deep Creek campground in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, near Bryson City, NC. It has been good, doing nothing, and then resting, as the saying goes. The camper was in good shape on our return, and, after a brief visit with Mercedes of Knoxville, required no further special attention. The weather, on the other hand, has not been good, hot and humid, with almost daily thunderstorms. It is a Golden Age for insects hereabouts too. The good news is that a) grand-daughter Penelope soon will join us for a week at Deep Creek and environs, b) there will be a family reunion of sorts toward the end of August, in North Carolina, and c) we will return to Europe August 31st, for two months, visiting Berlin, Prague, and Vienna.

At least the humidity doesn't get much higher during
the thundershowers

Pigeon Forge

From our late 60s travels we had always remembered Cherokee, NC, as the zenith, the nadir, the acme, the summit of touristic crap. Kitsch at best. More recent drive-throughs, however, have convinced us that the presence and growth of the Indian casino there has transformed Cherokee into something more respectable, sort of, gentrified, almost interesting, if you're into "gaming." Certainly no longer for the lower middle class budget family vacation. And no longer our standard of crap. But just over the hill, through the Park, Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge, TN, have taken up the cause, and they are now our models of the cheesy kitschy touristy heights, at least on this continent. We had a free night at the Pigeon Forge Holiday Inn  and used it to celebrate Vicki's birthday as well as a base for exploring some of the wonders of Pigeon Forge, which is mostly a dozen or more "dinner theaters." We'll leave Gatlinburg for another day. Perhaps another life. 

The Hollywood Wax Museum

Closer up; King Kong has already eaten much of the Empire
State Building, including Fay Wray; looks like he nibbled some
on the Chrysler Building too

Mount Trashmore? I think one of them might be Elvis

Not a dinner theater: the Smoky Mountain Snowpark

Civil War dinner theater: loads of laughs

Not sure what this was

No doubt here, the Titanic, sailing under an American flag; watch

out for that iceberg! More loads of laughs as husbands and wives,

little children lost their lives...

All the parking lots for 3 miles of this were jammed

As a McCoy, Vicki was intrigued by the Hatfield/McCoy dinner
feud, as it is styled; somehow we restrained ourselves; she's 
waiting to take grand-daughter Penelope, who no doubt will be
quite impressed with her heritage

Medieval fantasyland

This brief injection of reality was nearly surreal

Possibly not a dinner theater

Aaargh!

A resort for Jimmy Buffet fans; there's one in Gatlinburg too

Ever more opportunities for mirth and comestibles

Like Its a Small World but with dinosaurs

Still pondering the "Jesus Saves" establishment: a bank? a Christian-
themed restaurant (manna from heaven? new wine in old skins?
rack of lamb of God?)?

Putt-putt

We settled for dinner at the Alamo steakhouse; Davy Crockett
was born on a mountain-top in Tennessee, greenest state in the
land of the free; don't you know

My surf 'n turf and creamed spinach

Her steak and baked potato; more than a trace of meat tenderizer,
she said

Smokemont

The last leg of our southern journey took us into and through the Great Smoky Mountain National Park, which we've visited numerous times before, starting in 1969. We spent the night at the Smokemont campground, reconnoitering a bit for the coming summer, and then headed on to the amusement trifecta of Cherokee, Gatlinburg, and Pigeon Forge.

Myself, at Mt. Le Conte Lodge, 1969

Vicki, at Smokemont (?), 1969; that's your tent, Tawana!

Our encampment, 2022

The temps were down to 32F that night, and yet there were
dozens of people camping in tents; hearty souls

Charleston

After Savannah, we had high hopes for Charleston, a city with perhaps an even stronger reputation as a tourist destination. It started well, a quiet night Wallydocking in the 'burbs, then an easy passage to the city's downtown parking garage, with ample space for visiting RVs, even big ones; then a most helpful tourist information center; and then the free shuttle circumnavigating the historic district. The thing is, although about the same age as Savannah, Charleston suffered damage in the Civil War, then more in a great fire, and then an earthquake [sic], all in the 19th century. (The plague of locusts and deaths of first-born males are yet to come.) Knowing all this, Charleston appeared rather younger to us, and thus of less interest. Of even less interest is its history as the cradle of American slavery. We are just not into slave markets and plantations and such, historic though they be. So Charleston turned out to be a short but tasty visit. Oh, it was my 75th birthday, too.

Our first stop was the Waterfront Park; note its splash fountain
for the kiddies; estimated depth: 9 inches

Extensive rules governing use

Not much more than ankle deep

Across the harbor, Fort Sumter..."Oh say can you see..." wait; no...

The aircraft carrier Yorktown, CV-10; second of the storied
Essex-class carriers; we considered visiting, but it now has an
angled flight deck and probably little of its WWII (the big one)
appearance, so we passed

Classic southern porch swing; several on the pier

The first of several buildings of interest

Tiny house

Street scene: Charleston has palms but few oaks and moss like
Savannah

Charleston's earliest settlers were slavers from Barbados, who
brought their building style with them

Interesting shutters

Among the slave market sites

Major tourist destination: the multi-colored row of houses

More slave market stuff; no apologies noted

Time out for a 75th birthday repas at the Amen St. seafood restaurant

An interesting basil/lime vodka cocktail, a sensible portion of
local oysters, an oyster shooter, a cup of she-crab soup...

And the best shrimp and grits ever

Another older building

Pretty alley

Possibly the world's only pink Gothic...Huguenot

Bigger Protestant church with leaning tower

Reminiscent of New Orleans

You mean it's haunted?

Bench for the half-assed

Tourist carriages passing in the day

In the vast old town market hall...where we found Clark Bars,
Necco Wafers, and other delicacies; impressive place

Another street scene

After a few hours of hyper-touristiness, we decided we'd gotten
the gist of it and were ready to move on; above, our last sight, a
replica of the Confederate submarine CSS Hunley; sank the
Union sloop-of-war Housatonic in 1864 off Charleston harbor,
although the explosion sank the Hunley too, with her crew of eight;
perhaps the only submarine to have sunk three times, the second
trial-run sinking also killing its inventor H. L. Hunley