Although we live within fifty miles of it, I can’t remember the last time I was in Gatlinburg. It’s probably been sometime in the last ten years, but certainly not in the last two. I needed to change that.
For those not familiar with this charming little village, Gatlinburg sits at the entrance of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park in Eastern Tennessee. In the summer, crowds swell, lines form at the attractions, and parking can get a bit tight. It’s not the crowds that keep me away because I love to “people-watch” and the folks that fill Gatlinburg can be quite interesting. Therefore, I have no good excuse for not visiting more often unless I use the “it’s close, so I can go there anytime” excuse.
On this week two years ago, the town of Gatlinburg was ablaze in a wildfire of epic proportions. By the time brave firefighters contained the fire, 14 people were dead, over 2,000 structures had burned to the ground in addition to the 10,000 acres torched in the National Park. I have friends who lost businesses. Some have rebuilt, others are finally getting around to thinking about it now that the shock is over.
On Wednesday of this week, Helen (adorable wife) and I sat around the breakfast table watching a news feature on the second anniversary of the fire. I decided that I should go and see the effects of the fire, and the rebuilding efforts for myself. The day promised cold temperatures, but clear skies although the area had received a dusting of snow overnight. I was surprised but, Helen wanted to go as well. I guess it was too cold for pickleball.
My preferred route to Gatlinburg is to avoid I-40 and travel along Highway 441 so that I can keep the mountains in my view. In the distance, I could see snow on the higher peaks. There were no clouds in the sky. The usually bustling shopping malls in Pigeon Forge seemed to be in “pause mode” now that Black Friday had passed. Traffic was steady, but not stopped.
As we neared Gatlinburg city limits, Helen suggested that we take the by-pass and drive to Ober Gatlinburg, the ski resort that overlooks the city. As soon as we began the upward climb, we passed several buildings claimed by the wildfire. We stopped to look at one of the structures owned by some friends. It seemed to me that the passage of two years only increases the sadness of the devastation. I preferred to focus on the view.
Snow covered a portion of the grounds at the ski lodge and machines produced snow to cover the slopes at the rear of the lodge. The temperatures hovered in the twenties and no skiers had made it to the slopes, but a few were warming up for a run. I love to ski, and hope to have the opportunity again but, today was not the day.
Despite the fire, Gatlinburg seemed much like I remembered it from the days when I made regular visits on weekend getaways from college. Many of the motels and attractions had survived, and a few had even expanded beyond what I remembered. The only disappointment was that a favorite restaurant, McCutcheon’s, was now an Italian Bistro. Nevertheless, when I turned to the north, I could see an entire hillside with barely a twig left standing. This hillside is the location of the very popular Sky Lift that carried tourists to the top of the mountain and gave visitors an incredible view of the city and the mountaintops.
The Sky Lift remains, but the trees are long gone. The fire that destroyed the trees also burned a motel belonging to an acquaintance of ours. Having the flames come that close to downtown must have been horrific to tourists and townspeople alike.
Helen and I walked to one end of town and back, pausing long enough for a delicious lunch at the Pancake Pantry. The Split Pea soup hit the spot as did the cucumber salad. Half of the sandwiches ended up in a box so that we could take them with us and thereby save room for a stop at the Ol’ Smokey Candy Kitchen, another favorite from the old days. The rather unfriendly candy maker did break his stoic posture long enough to tell us he was making cinnamon taffy. We bought chocolate nuggets as well as some chocolate-covered toffee bars, then left before temptation completely overtook us.
Back at the starting point for our walk, we went into the Craft Show inside the Convention Center. Outside the Convention Center, a chainsaw artist created Black Bears. Some of them were pretty cute. Inside, one entire floor featured the works and art of various artisans. I watched while one of the artists gave a demonstration of her watercolor skills. Another lady showed the curious her technique for applying enamel to round river rocks. We avoided the impulse to buy anything but enjoyed strolling through the show. The crowd was somewhat light. At the end of our time there, we paused once again to listen to some beautiful music played on a hammer dulcimer. I have shared a brief portion of the music with you in the video below. You’ll love it.
Gatlinburg is on the way back. I’m glad we went and promised that it wouldn’t be two years before I return. I recommend it highly. It’s a great destination for Easin’ Along.
Near our parking lot, a sign displayed my new slogan for the holiday season. This music gave me a head start. Please share your Gatlinburg memories in the comments section. I’m certain you have some!
