Appalachia – Big Smoky Mtns
By Jeff Kinzer
Persons involved: Doug Berg, Joanne Elliott-Storlie, and the students: Marty Cook, Dave Scott, Tim Scott, Lynn Parkhurst, Tami Gerhard, Lisa Hastings, Kirk LeBlanc and Jeff Kinzer.
We left at 3:15 Wednesday, April 8. We had planned to drive 15 plus hours to Mammoth Cave in Southern Kentucky. We did. Nothing real exciting happened on the way. We did see a young upset customer at a restaurant on the way, he’d been waiting for five minutes to have his food rung up. He turned to Kirk and said, “are you ready?” Kirk said “yes”. He shouted “Hey _____, doesn’t anybody work in this _____ing place?” There were only a few people in there, but he caught everyone’s attention, including an Illinois State Trooper, and a clerk who was too scared to come out. She let the other clerk wait on him. The farther south we got, the more southern accents we heard.
By mid morning we reached Mammoth Cave National Park. Here we met Mr. Handlebars. Mr. Handlebars was a ranger at the gate to the campground. He got his name because of the shape of his moustache, one of those curly ones. But I don’t think he was a genuine Rebel, he didn’t have the accent. This day we relaxed or hiked on some trails.
The next day we had a couple of hours before our tour of the cave. Dave, Lynn and I went down by the ferry boat. Down there, we met another ranger. He asked me “Where are y’all from?” After telling him the answer, his next remark was “Oh, Yankees.” Then after that he said “Y’all know what y’all bring when ya come down this way?” I said “No, what are we supposed to bring?” He said “Money” and then I said “Why is that?” His reply was “So when y’all go back ya kin tell yer friends that when they’re coming to bring even more money.’ “Heck, we’re gonna win this war” was his last remark before he drove away. But I knew he wasn’t a real Rebel because he would’ve said “Darn Yankee” rather than just “Yankee” alone.
The cave was big, but not very exciting. The countryside, I thought, was the best part of the Park. We also had to get a new tire that day, otherwise no other hassles with the van the entire trip.
We woke early the next day, and drove on to the Smokies. Nothing too exciting that I remember happened on this day. But we did see Batch’s carving in the bathroom at Cosby.
Next day we took a small driving tour of the park. We stopped at a visitors center, and went to Cade’s Cove from there. Cade’s Cove is a pioneer village, restored by the National Park System. We stopped at a primitive Baptist church and proceeded on a tour of the cemetery. Exciting! This is where we met 80 year old Loula Anthony. She was a resident in Cade’s Cove until 1935 when the National Park kicked them out. The people of Cade’s Cove were practically out of touch with civilization from 1821 until the 1930’s. The Cove people were mostly self sufficient relying on hunting, fishing, and gardens for their food.
Well, the next day we split into our hiking groups. Doug’s group consisted of Doug, Tim Scott, Dave Scott, Lynn Parkhurst, Kirk LeBlanc, and Jeff Kinzer. Joanne’s group: Joanne, Lisa Hastings, Tami Gerhard and Marty Cook. Joanne’s group, based back at Cosby Campground was to do day hikes.
Doug’s group hit the old Bote Mt. Trail. And as some say, the first day is the worst. Not only because we weren’t adjusted, but the Bote Mountain Trail was steeply uphill. She was probably the steepest trail I saw in the whole park. David and Lynn were in back. At one point Lynn asked “Can’t we call Joanne?” Someone else remarked “Yeah, go over by those trees and you might find a phone booth.” We went on long after lunch, (Tim lost his due to salami upsetting his stomach). Our canteens were dry. Later we found a spring. None of us were really ever together that day. Berg was always up front, second and middle varied between Tim, Kirk and Jeff, with David and Lynn in back. We hiked about seven miles the first day. We camped at Anthony’s Creek that night (named after Loula and family).
The second hiking day we had only 1.6 more miles of the Infamous Bote Mt. Trail left. After that was the Appalachian Trail. This day David and I brought up the rear. We had a steep climb up Thunderhead Mountain. Not that bad after Thunderhead, but still a lot of up and down. We put in at Derrick Knob shelter for the night. And a storm came howling in before we were there long. Here is where we met John Nieman. John is doing the 2100 mile Appalachian Trail. He stepped in the shelter and the very second (precisely) it started pouring. It rained all night and was cold.
The next morning it was crystal clear. We got an early start and trucked two hours before we had breakfast. From there, we climbed Siler’s Bald. A bald is a mountain where no trees grow. Next was the climb of Clingman’s Dome. It wasn’t that steep, only in one place. Dave and I were climbing up to this ridge. We stopped to rest and took off the packs. Dave went up 20 feet and found Kirk sleeping. He’d been sleeping at least twenty minutes. We did another steep climb before we got to the highest point in the park, Clingman’s Dome at 6643 feet.
When we got there, Berg was angry because he and Tim had been waiting an hour and a half for lunch. After lunch, Tim, Doug and Kirk left. We had to go down Clingman’s Dome, up Mt. Collins, and two thirds of the way down before we got to the shelter. After I fetched water for our canteens, David, Lynn, John Nieman and I left. At the lead was Tim, Kirk was five minutes behind. When I arrived, Tim and Doug were bathing in some stream a ways away. John got in fifteen minutes later, and about ten minutes later, David and Lynn arrived. Doug and Tim were back by then. What we couldn’t figure out was, where was Kirk? He should have been the second to arrive. Berg and I took turns going down the trail yelling and shouting. No results. We went to bed. We decided if we didn’t find him at Newfound Gap tomorrow, we’d have to call the Rangers.
The next morning Berg assigned Tim and I to go down the highway. This was in case he may be hitch-hiking back. Doug, Lynn and David went down the trail. Right before Newfound Gap we met Joanne’s group. They were going up to Clingman’s Dome. We met John at the Gap. He left fifteen minutes before Berg. He had seen Kirk and the tent a mile down the trail. Then Doug, Lynn and Dave made it, but Kirk was supposed to get there first. Well, he finally arrived. We got breakfast ready for him while he told us the story. He missed the off shoot trail and kept going. He went down to the highway and hitch-hiked. He found a ride, tried to take a trail that would get him back where he got off. The shelter was twenty miles from Gatlinburg. Kirk was only nine miles from there. He hitch-hiked again, was dropped off and hiked up the trail. At 10:30 pm he pitched his tent not knowing he was less than a mile from us. He ate chocolate for dinner.
After Kirk’s breakfast, we hiked three miles to Ice Water Springs shelter. Joanne’s group was With us. We sat around and lounged in the sun.
In the late afternoon the group switch was made. Dave Scott and Lynn Parkhurst went with Joanne, Marty Cook and Tami Gerhard stayed with Doug.
That night as the first people were going to bed, the shelter’s proprietor came out to visit with us. He was smaller than a cat and was black with long white skunk stripes all the way back to his tail. One guy nearly got him spraying. Anyway, he sniffed around and then went outside after posing for a couple pictures. Everyone then hit the sack. With everyone in the bunks, the second skunk came out. This one had white spots instead of stripes. He found some of our popcorn morsels, then went out with his companion.
The next morning we rose and got ready. We had about seven miles to go that day. We could tell most of it would be in the rain. We hadn’t even gone two miles before it started. Along the way, we decided to sing Happy Birthday for Tammy. She turned sweet sixteen today (April 17th). We arrived at Peck’s Corner shelter early. It’s a drag walking in that rain. Luckily only eight people stayed at the shelter. We had all our clothes strung around to dry out, it would’ve been a hassle otherwise.
We rose early the next day. Seeing we had to do eighteen miles today, we hiked five and a half miles to Tri Corner Knob shelter. We stopped to dry out what we could and had breakfast. It had been raining again. But up on Mt. Guyot it suddenly “snapped” and there was clear blue skies.
Later during the day Tammy was between Tim and Doug and Kirk and I. She took the wrong turn and ended up taking the short way into Cosby Campground. We stayed in tents that night at Sugar Cove Campground. Thanks to Joanne and Lynn, who hiked to our camp that day, to tell us Tammy made it safely. They also brought us our next morning’s breakfast, goatmeal (oatmeal). We hiked four miles the next morning into Cosby. Joanne prepared our Easter dinner of ham, sweet potatoes and what else I don’t remember, except that it rained most of the day.
We spent two hours in the tourist trap of Gatlinburg, Tennessee. The next morning, we bought such things as, Joanne a porch swing (she liked the lazy people sitting around in their porches that Saturday morning, passing through Southern Kentucky.), Tim Scott a 3×5 foot Confederate Battle flag for his apartment. David and Marty bought some fireworks. Jeff Kinzer bought a small Confederate Battle flag which he tied to the van’s side mirror.
We now started our uneventful ride home. We camped at Fort Massac State Park in Illinois, on the Ohio River.
On our way the next day, we stopped in Hannibal, Missouri. Hannibal is the Tom Sawyer town. Berg went to the museum and bought a Mark Twain book while we all checked out the town.
In Fremont, Iowa, we decided to drive all the way home that night. Earlier that day I took the battle flag off the side mirror. We crossed into Illinois and were no longer in Rebel territory. People were giving us dirty looks and giving us the finger.
We arrived back at 2:00 am Wednesday morning, April 22.
How we each spent our time on the trip: Tim Scott and Doug Berg, waiting for everyone to catch up. David Scott, in the van listening to tunes. Kirk LeBlanc, getting lost. Lisa Hastings, in the phone booth talking to Bernie. Tammy Gerhard, taking the wrong trail. Jeff Kinzer, up in the hills fighting Rebels and cursing Dan Wright at the top of his voice. Lynn Parkhurst, sleeping by strange guys in the shelters. Joanne, counting porch swings and honking at cute guys (get that, Duncan). Marty Cook, swinging from vines (trying to be Tarzan). We all had a good trip. They say that in every article, but this one was GREAT!!! Now y’all hear me now, our trip was a good one!
BIG WITTY
Composed on the Appalachia trip
mainly by: Doug Berg about Jeff
Kinzer alias “Big Witty”
He carried his Jansport into Mini-School one day, flashing his big Army Knife all the way, He hiked the Great Smokies with the Big D., and everyone called him Big Witty.
Big Witty, Big Bad Witty.
He whipped the Commies and he whipped the Klan, but in Tennessee he met a Rebel band. He won the war and took their money, and everyone called him
Big Witty.
Big Witty, Big Bad Witty.
After the Smokies he strolled into T’s, got Dan Wright down on his knees, demanded a raise or he was finished with T’s, and everyone called him Big Witty.
Big Witty, Big Bad Witty.
Big Witty, Big Bad Witty.