Great Smoky Mountains National Park is awesome.
That is all.
A fear mongering park ranger advised me that these beasts would be on every trail. I only wanted to see the cute, cuddly cubs... but after handling the traffic in Pigeon Forge, I wasn't afraid of shit.
I kid… but the first sentence is definitely true. Despite the unfortunate evil of travelling through Pigeon Forge (which boasts Dollywood… an area which can very well be described as nature’s opposite) and Gatlinburg (the world’s premier hillbilly tourist trap) a trip to GSMNP can appease anyone who would consider themselves a lover of nature.
My friend Julia and I hiked Rainbow Falls and Chimney Tops (respectively) on consecutive weekend days. Saturday’s hike was moderately difficult, though its most challenging feature was the false promise of bears.
(Note: From the day that we planned our trip to the Smokies, Julia and I knew that our 6.5 hour drive would be redeemed with the sight of a bear. Moreover, the trip would be legendary if we had to confront a bear along one of GSMNP’s many trails.)
We were about to approach the first bridge when a friendly couple gave us these encouraging instructions: cross the bridge, walk about 200 feet (all hikers are experts in approximating distance in feet), look up to your right, see a cute little cuddly bear hanging on a tree, and be watchful for its mother… she must be around somewhere!
This was our third bear warning of the week (you’ll notice that I’ve already mentioned the second in the above caption). The first bear warning actually took place on the preceding Thursday, in the safe confines of Max & Erma’s Restaurant on Kenny Road in Columbus. Julia’s mother told us that she hoped we wouldn’t run into a bear… and this comment sparked a bear discussion that would make even the least humble Grizzly in America blush under his thick facial fur.
Usually, the most prevalent topic of a bear conversation is “bear encounter advice.” We all know the last resort: aggressively clapping your hands, screaming “bear” at the top of your lungs, and throwing non-food objects toward the bear to scare him off when he’s really intent on stalking you. For the most part, however, the kind of things you would do to avoid this all-or-nothing approach are somewhat contradictory. You’re supposed to separate yourself from any food that the bear may be interested in, but you shouldn’t feed it. If that doesn’t work, you should change your direction of travel, but you should never run away from the bear!
All of this advice was in my mind as I crossed the first bridge on the Rainbow Falls trail. I travelled a couple hundred feet, looked up to my right, and saw a few trees… but no cuddly cubs hung from any of their branches. Disappointed, Julia and I stowed away our bright yellow bear encounter worksheet and lurched across the rest of the Rainbow Falls trail as bear-proof as the many trash cans scattered across Smoky Mountain National Park that share that ultra-dubious distinction.
