Forney Ridge to Andrews Bald in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park

 

On Wednesday my mother and I headed to our favorite place, The Great Smokey Mountains National Park. Mom grew up in Gatlinburg, the gateway to the Smokies; and I have fond memories of spending summers with my grandmother in her house on Turkey Nest Road. The Mountains are part of our genetic makeup. When I step onto a trail and move away from civilization towards the back country I feel an internal shift. I need the realignment that happens when I head out on these adventures. Mom is still rather spry and determined to enjoy what she can. The hike out to Andrews Bald is only 1.8 miles. I thought we would be able to do this one if we paced it. Mom did a rather rigorous hike to a waterfall in Shenandoah in June. It has been a few years since I ventured out to Andrews Bald.

The trailhead leaves the parking lot of Clingmans Dome, the highest point on the AT, and we go down. The descent was steeper than I remembered. The air was a cool 63 degrees with low humidity, the perfect weather for a hike. The views along the trail were a mixture of sunlight and shadow. The landscape was wet from recent rains; we crossed many little drainage flows water burbling under foot.  The forest was damp and we stopped once just breathe it in. Mom said it smelled like home.

Mom made it an arduous mile before she said she had better head back. Her trail legs were not up to the full round trip and knowing her limitations she sent me onto the Bald. The trail is well traveled so I felt OK to go on. We were less than a mile from the destination. I raced on to Andrews Bald. The push was good for me. Walking Mom’s pace was good for the time I got to spend with her, speeding up I worked up a good sweat on my own. At the Bald it was easy to see that clouds were moving in. The views were striking like an old black and white landscape that someone was starting to colorize; it was beautiful with shadow and sunlight playing off one another to highlight shades of green in vibrant contrast to the greys and browns and muted shadows.

I turned and raced back to find Mom well on her way back up towards the trail head. She was in great spirits telling me that folks stopped and chatted coming and going. Hikers are good people. We slowly made our way out. Determined and tenacious Mom climbed and rested and climbed until we crested the top. I tried to get pictures of the clouds rolling in shrouding the peaks before we left the parking area but my phone couldn’t capture what I saw. We got in the Jeep just in time. As we rolled down the access road the rains came. Big fat drops turned into a steady stream of rainfall. Mom got 2 miles of strenuous trail. She said she is going to walk the hills around the farm and build up so she can make it all the way to the Bald next time and I bet she will. We don’t quit or give up easily. That is a reminder I needed. We push ourselves to our limit, recognize our limitations and seek to overcome. That is as much in the genes as the Mountains we love so dearly.