It was good to be back to camping in the parks, although the battles with the insect life are something I will not miss about this trip. Great Smoky Mountains is proud to be the US's most visited National Park, with an astonishing 9 million visitors per year. It is, however, the most underfunded, as there is no entrance fee: this is due to a condition made upon the lands being donated to the federal government that the age-old tolls to cross the area from North Carolina in to Tennessee, and vice versa, be abolished. I would question its visitation figures for a couple of reasons.
1) We were there on Labor Day weekend, the holiday marking the end of summer and, as pointed out by a friendly ranger, this park is within a day's drive of 70 million Americans. It was hardly what you'd call crowded.
2) Does visiting the tourist-tat filled neighbouring town of Gatlinburg (or Ghastlinburg) for pizzas, 70oz sodas, ghost-train rides, the aquarium (where's the water?), every kind of 'Smokies' memorabilia and a ride on the 200-yd long shuttle bus REALLY count as going to the park?
As with every other National Park we have explored, our first challenge was the find the steepest, scariest looking trail recommended by our National Geographic guidebook and take it on. Alum Bluffs Trail: Ok, so you climb 2600ft and it's a 5 mile round trip, which doesn't sound too bad - but the suggested timing for it was 6-8 hours, and this had largely been accurate from our experiences so far, so we were expecting something a bit rugged and slow-going. Add to this the mention of assisting cables for the last part of the journey, and we were convinced - Angel's Landing in Zion had been a short, strenuous climb and this sounded similar. It was lame: no life-threatening drops on either side of us, no sheer granite faces to scream over, no exhilarating dangling from ropes to get the blood racing. It was just a walk. Nice views from the top, but just a walk. Hmph. Maybe we're becoming travel-weary? Maybe.
The next day took us straight out of this rut, though. The map showed an unpaved road down to a quiet area of the park, called Cataloochee, where we were off to hopefully see some Elk. After bumping and boucing along for 30 minutes, thankful for the 4x4, knuckles turning white and expletives coming from under our breath at every pothole, we came upon some horse-riders. 'You lost?', they asked. 'We're heading to Cataloochee', we replied. 'You're on a bridalpath', came the answer. More bumping, more bouncing, whiter knuckles and louder expletives back the way we had come, to try a new route, which seemed a bit more like it.
We were rewarded: a whole family of elk were making their way across some open plains, with an enormous male leader bellowing orders to the pack to follow him. It was just magical to watch these beautiful, elegant creatures roam around in the wild. Great Smoky Mountains has had a successful programme to reintroduce the elk to the park, including initial phases in a special enclosure we happened upon during our hike that afternoon. It was a large circular expanse, where the first few elk had been accustomed to the area before being released to go freely. A similar programme had been undertaken with black bears, and we had a couple more encounters with these incredible creatures - from a somewhat safer distance this time, though! Watching a sow with her two cubs crossing the road, and the tearing off the bark of a tree to feed on, is one of the most memorable moments of the trip. We sat in the car, not even daring to breathe - I'm sure Ben will put up some of the few photos we managed to sneak soon.
Moving on to Shenandoah National Park, which was lost in a foggy haze for most of our time there, took a mere 12 hours driving. This was the longest we've spent in the car in one day, and I am happy to say we got out of the car still smiling and counting our blessings, and not screaming and at each other's throats..somehow! Maybe it was the thought of the well-deserved beers we had to enjoy on arrival.. Miserable weather kept us up all night, and drove us out of the park to the nearest town the day day. We whiled away the day in cafes and record shops in Charlottesville, the home of the University of Virginia, and took refuge in the cinema in the evening, to watch a book we've listened to en route - The Time Traveller's Wife. Read the book, leave the movie.
We're now in Washington, D.C., and having seen the White House and walked to Capitol Hill went to Chinatown for dinner last night. The kindly server was doing the right thing to ask for our IDs when we asked for beers, but his maths got the best of him and he couldn't quite work out how old I was: it must be confusing because here it looks like I'm born on the 9th day of the 18th month. Once he'd figured it out, he took Ben's. This also stumped him, and it took a few goes to get to the right answer. His eyes lit up. 'She very young', he told Ben. We laughed and he handed us back our licenses. 'She very young', came with the food.. and then with our drinks.. and then with our bill. Ok, we get it! In the US, you also need your ID to sneeze in public, buy pints of milk, and cross the street. Buying a gun, however - no problem. Ben has caught a bit of a cold and Sudafed is safely guarded by an armed (what else?) pharmacist here, but his ID wasn't accepted this morning at the local pharmacy. We're going to try to obtain arms later on, so we'll let you know how that goes.
We had planned to go to the coast for the next couple of days, but when I called to book a campsite this morning I was told I couldn't due to severe weather and flooding danger. Instead, we will try our luck inland a bit further before heading to Baltimore to see Melissa on Monday, where will be timing our arrival with the end of the medical students' first exam of the year. Don't expect to hear from us for a while after that night out! Bye for now.
Friday 11 September 2009
Thursday 3 September 2009
Can I get a hell-yeah?
HOW-DEE! I'm jus' so proud to be here!
Space travel. The next frontier, huh? Or is world-domination just not enough for this super power? The NASA visitor centre was a huge must on this trip and I had been brimming with excitement ever since seeing its little dot on the Lonely Planet map of Texas so it was with great anticipation that we paid for our tickets to get the experience. The bubble was quickly burst when it became evident that of all the excellent tours we have done in the US, this was the one most filled with propaganda. The 'necessity' of mining the moon and space exploration was drilled hard - this is unsurprising considering the cost of the industry to the American taxpayer, but I'd like to give the American people more credit than believing in the web of spin you must wade through whilst navigating NASA. Granted, the fascinating exhibits of the 'race to the moon', and the technology which enable such feats was totally mind-boggling and, as usual, beautifully presented. But please don't try to justify to us that we NEED to do this. Can't it just be cool for cool's sake? In a nation where the idea of an affordable family car which does 50 mpg is a total revelation, and a lorry looks like something out of the 1920s, I think other steps could be taken to preserve the life to which the West has been accustomed, at far less monetary and (inter)-planetary cost. Although, I can't say I've not found shoe-insoles handy from time-to-time so you gotta give them that.
From outer space to New Orleans. Hang on, did we go anywhere different? New Orelans is a veritable whirlwind of indulgent pleasures, from beignets for breakfast, to scantily clad women beckoning you into nightclubs from around 5pm onwards. Our experience of New Orleans included a lot of walking. You may have noticed from other posts that we are quite experienced walkers, and we enjoy trawling around cities looking for general amenities also. One of the troubles we have frequently encountered on this trip has been a search for food. Yes, you read correctly, in the world's fattest nation, we have not been able to find food. Here, they sell likenesses to food which come in all manner of glittery plastic, cardboard or canned easy-open, resealable containers, but trying to find anything that looks likes it might have been grown is a different story. Similarly, the post office is an enigma. How is it that we can send a batch of postcards from Yosemite National Park, yet finding a USPS office in New Orleans is like searching for good, cheap sushi in London (oh I will miss that about the US)? Of course, this isn't all we got up to in New Orleans. We enjoyed the vibe of the French Quarter at both day- and night-time; we watched a fantastic blues/motown band on Frenchmen St in the Marigny district; wandered around a lifeless shopping mall - the recession has hit hard here; listened to someone 'play' a steamboat's sirens; sipped coffee at a faux-french cafe; made the compulsory excursion to 'International Vintage Guitars' and debated the impact of the economic crisis on the guitar industry; sampled local creole and cajun cuisine.. all in the space of around 48 hours.
And then? We toured the Louisiana swamplands, of course. What else? For two hours we lazed on the green, narrow waterways of the swamplands, listening to a broad Southern drawl explain the history of the local logging industry of the 1920s, and the trials and tribulations of caring for alligators. We met his whole family, right from 'Little Elvis', a 6 month old who we each had a cuddle with, to 'Baby', the 11 foot gentle giant performing leaps out of the water for day-old chicken meat. Yum.
5 hours driving due North took us to Memphis, the home of Elvis and the beginnings of rock and roll. As a rule, the tours we have taken on this trip have been exceptional, and the hour we had around Sun Studios was way up there with our sunshiney day at Alcatraz. We first heard snippets of the biggest records to have left the building, the history of Sam Phillips, Elvis, and the woman workign behind the scenes of it all, Marion Keisker. We saw the original equipment used to record and cut the discs, and then we were taken to the room where the magic happened: the small, white, sun studio. There's the microphone Elvis sang into, the piano Jerry Lee Lewis played on, the million-dollar quartet photo. Phenomenal. Of course, no trip to Memphis could be complete for a guitar-aficionado without touring the Gibson factory, and so we did. Here, they make the semi-solid bodied guitars, which is a real art-craft. The factory floor is small, and employs only around 55 people, but from here they churn out at least 45 guitars per day. The best bit (although Ben will surely disgaree) was hearing what they do with the not-quite so good ones: smash 'em up Fridays, baby!! Man, I'd have loved to be there for that.
This brings us on to Nashville, from where I am writing this post. Nashville has captured us, and it is the longest we have stayed anywhere, jointly with Yosemite. We have read every sign at the Country Music Hall of Fame Museum, had another excellent tour, this time of RCA Studio B, 'the 1000 hit record studio' of Dolly Parton, Elvis, Johnny Cash, and spent an evening being truly entertained by hit country stars we'd never heard of at the Grand Ole Opry. We've seen local bands, bands in tourist-trap bars, the Gruhn shop (some guitars or something), been to a drive-in movie, and, of course, seen where Jack Daniel's Tennessee whiskey is made. That will knock your socks off - a brief whiff of the vat in which it ferments feels just like a snort of vodka... or so Ben tells me as I wouldn't know..!
Today we drive to Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and on to Shenandoah a few day later, where it'll be back to nature until we hit the capital sometime next week. 6 weeks down, 3 more to go - time has flown by for us, but the next 3 weeks stretch out ahead, full of more adventure to come!
Space travel. The next frontier, huh? Or is world-domination just not enough for this super power? The NASA visitor centre was a huge must on this trip and I had been brimming with excitement ever since seeing its little dot on the Lonely Planet map of Texas so it was with great anticipation that we paid for our tickets to get the experience. The bubble was quickly burst when it became evident that of all the excellent tours we have done in the US, this was the one most filled with propaganda. The 'necessity' of mining the moon and space exploration was drilled hard - this is unsurprising considering the cost of the industry to the American taxpayer, but I'd like to give the American people more credit than believing in the web of spin you must wade through whilst navigating NASA. Granted, the fascinating exhibits of the 'race to the moon', and the technology which enable such feats was totally mind-boggling and, as usual, beautifully presented. But please don't try to justify to us that we NEED to do this. Can't it just be cool for cool's sake? In a nation where the idea of an affordable family car which does 50 mpg is a total revelation, and a lorry looks like something out of the 1920s, I think other steps could be taken to preserve the life to which the West has been accustomed, at far less monetary and (inter)-planetary cost. Although, I can't say I've not found shoe-insoles handy from time-to-time so you gotta give them that.
From outer space to New Orleans. Hang on, did we go anywhere different? New Orelans is a veritable whirlwind of indulgent pleasures, from beignets for breakfast, to scantily clad women beckoning you into nightclubs from around 5pm onwards. Our experience of New Orleans included a lot of walking. You may have noticed from other posts that we are quite experienced walkers, and we enjoy trawling around cities looking for general amenities also. One of the troubles we have frequently encountered on this trip has been a search for food. Yes, you read correctly, in the world's fattest nation, we have not been able to find food. Here, they sell likenesses to food which come in all manner of glittery plastic, cardboard or canned easy-open, resealable containers, but trying to find anything that looks likes it might have been grown is a different story. Similarly, the post office is an enigma. How is it that we can send a batch of postcards from Yosemite National Park, yet finding a USPS office in New Orleans is like searching for good, cheap sushi in London (oh I will miss that about the US)? Of course, this isn't all we got up to in New Orleans. We enjoyed the vibe of the French Quarter at both day- and night-time; we watched a fantastic blues/motown band on Frenchmen St in the Marigny district; wandered around a lifeless shopping mall - the recession has hit hard here; listened to someone 'play' a steamboat's sirens; sipped coffee at a faux-french cafe; made the compulsory excursion to 'International Vintage Guitars' and debated the impact of the economic crisis on the guitar industry; sampled local creole and cajun cuisine.. all in the space of around 48 hours.
And then? We toured the Louisiana swamplands, of course. What else? For two hours we lazed on the green, narrow waterways of the swamplands, listening to a broad Southern drawl explain the history of the local logging industry of the 1920s, and the trials and tribulations of caring for alligators. We met his whole family, right from 'Little Elvis', a 6 month old who we each had a cuddle with, to 'Baby', the 11 foot gentle giant performing leaps out of the water for day-old chicken meat. Yum.
5 hours driving due North took us to Memphis, the home of Elvis and the beginnings of rock and roll. As a rule, the tours we have taken on this trip have been exceptional, and the hour we had around Sun Studios was way up there with our sunshiney day at Alcatraz. We first heard snippets of the biggest records to have left the building, the history of Sam Phillips, Elvis, and the woman workign behind the scenes of it all, Marion Keisker. We saw the original equipment used to record and cut the discs, and then we were taken to the room where the magic happened: the small, white, sun studio. There's the microphone Elvis sang into, the piano Jerry Lee Lewis played on, the million-dollar quartet photo. Phenomenal. Of course, no trip to Memphis could be complete for a guitar-aficionado without touring the Gibson factory, and so we did. Here, they make the semi-solid bodied guitars, which is a real art-craft. The factory floor is small, and employs only around 55 people, but from here they churn out at least 45 guitars per day. The best bit (although Ben will surely disgaree) was hearing what they do with the not-quite so good ones: smash 'em up Fridays, baby!! Man, I'd have loved to be there for that.
This brings us on to Nashville, from where I am writing this post. Nashville has captured us, and it is the longest we have stayed anywhere, jointly with Yosemite. We have read every sign at the Country Music Hall of Fame Museum, had another excellent tour, this time of RCA Studio B, 'the 1000 hit record studio' of Dolly Parton, Elvis, Johnny Cash, and spent an evening being truly entertained by hit country stars we'd never heard of at the Grand Ole Opry. We've seen local bands, bands in tourist-trap bars, the Gruhn shop (some guitars or something), been to a drive-in movie, and, of course, seen where Jack Daniel's Tennessee whiskey is made. That will knock your socks off - a brief whiff of the vat in which it ferments feels just like a snort of vodka... or so Ben tells me as I wouldn't know..!
Today we drive to Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and on to Shenandoah a few day later, where it'll be back to nature until we hit the capital sometime next week. 6 weeks down, 3 more to go - time has flown by for us, but the next 3 weeks stretch out ahead, full of more adventure to come!
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