We had just turned 16. We were idealistic young "bens" (boys trying to be men). School had just let out. For 9 months Lee was an experimental driver; one might call him a novice. Me on the other hand, I had only had my license for three months. But like most "country boys" we both had been driving the back roads since we were 13, praying we wouldn't get caught. I had a jack-up, large tired, roll-bar pick up strewn with KC 1,000,000 power spot lights. I considered myself a sophisticated redneck.
For months we had been dreaming about heading to the mountains. Camping, experiencing nature as two independent men (or so we thought). So the week after school was released, we loaded up the bed of the truck with sleeping bags, lounge chairs, coolers, flashlights, food, a tarp and rope. Basically everything but a tent. Decidedly, we wanted to rough it.
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| Cades Cove |
So with about $75 in our pockets each, we set out for Cades Cove, Tennessee. We made our way through Asheville and detoured through Cherokee. Winding our way up the mountain, we turned at the Sugarland visitors center and headed along the Little River to the primitive camp ground and 11 mile loop road called Cades Cove.
Cades Cove, a valley surrounded by the tall green canopied Appalachian mountains is a popular destination in the Great Smoky Mountains. Its a broad, verdant valley surrounded by mountains and is one of the most popular destinations in the Great Smokies. The 11 mile loop road offers some of the best opportunities for wildlife viewing in the park. On any given morning or afternoon, you can see large numbers of white tail, the occasional black bear, and smaller animals like coyote, ground hog, turkey, raccoon and skunk.
So when we arrived, we set up and organized our campsite. Using the tarp and the rope, we created our lien too shelter. Open air on the front and sides, it was our hope to protect us from potential rain and morning dew. 1 out of two wasn't bad. It never rained while we were there. Roughing it meant sleeping bags, but we brought with us certain evidence of the city. We had two lounge chairs that folded out into a layout recliner. I'm certain my mother turn a few shades of tan laying in this orange poolside recliner over the past, but for now, it was supporting the comforts of my sleeping bag. Lee had a similar night-time heavenly rest.
The days were filled with exploring, sight seeing and wildlife appreciation. Despite our age, our personal wildlife was fairly tame as we were quite honestly two fairly innocent kids. I'd love to tell you that we created magnificent meals on an open fire, but our most impressive protein was a tube steak packaged by Oscar Meyer and our sweet course typically was a honey bun. I should include that our midday snacks were salted peanut butter crackers prepared by Lance.
The test of friendship came one afternoon when we decided to visit the populated area called the Y. This was a rocky beach at the confluence of The Little River and West Prong Little River. As we had driven by earlier, it was populated by beach dwellers. They happened to be dressed as though they were at Myrtle Beach, so you can imagine the minds of two 16 year olds. So with our packed lounge chairs, we showed up at the beach. Both of us fair skinned from a winter and spring of long pants, we rested the legs of our beds in the water. Lee, the more righteous of the two of us, laid down and fell asleep. Me, on the other hand, felt the need to do a little reconnaissance. I was curious if any of these pretty young ladies were the welcome wagon for the Great Smokey Mountains. After about thirty minutes or so of talking with some of the locals, realizing that I wasn't interested in their Appalachia demeanor, I made my skinny 125 pound way back to Lee. I'm certain he was dreaming about pretty girls, the mountain men that we were (or thought) and simply getting rest considering our taxing schedule we had created
I'm not sure what got over me; was it the devil, was it mischief, or did I think Lee was overheating from the Tennessee hot sun. I had a plastic cup that had been filled with Cheerwine (Yes, no beer. We never drank the first sip of alcohol on this trip), I dipped it into the cold cold waters of the union created by the two rivers, and decided to give Lee a Methodist baptism, a sprinkling of water, however not on the head, but on the sunbaked belly of my good friend. I really don't remember anything about his response with the exception of the look on his face, and the fact that he turned over my lounge chair. I do remember laughing at myself and him. That caused the situation to get even worse. As the water cooled down his belly, time caused the situation to cool down. I think the only unholy words used on that trip was him calling me a Jackass. I guess the shoe fit.
We left our mark on Cades Cove and decided to drive through Gatlinburg to get to I-40. While we both thought we were sophisticated rednecks, we were able to see the real definition of rednecks in this narrow gap in the mountains. It was a Sunday, and probably out of obligation rather than reverence, we decided to attend the Gatlinburg Church of Christ. Worn out, I quietly told Lee, "if i begin to fall asleep during the sermon, give me a nudge". During the singing my soul was stimulated enough to keep awake. However during the opening prayer, I caught myself nodding. When the preacher began speaking, I knew this was going to be challenging as his presentation was melancholy. Sure enough, about 5 minute into his sermon, my head felt like 50 pounds and I began to dose. Lee, a rule follower, gently shook my shoulder and like a car wreck with whiplash, my head came up. this happened about four times in the next 15 minutes, and finally with the same look that Lee had at the river, I said "leave me alone". The invitation song woke me up.
We risked the norm that day by wearing shorts to church. In that day, casual and church was like 13 year olds and cigarettes. they didn't go. But we did that and was accepted. When we finally got to I-40 with the 3 hour ride ahead of us, Lee had this great idea. Since he didn't sleep through church, he decided to unfold his lounge chair and place it in the back of the truck. He must have looked great. Along with the roll bars and lights, I had a small rebel flag hanging on one side of the roll bar and an American flag on the other. Like Gettysburg must have been on July1-3 of 1863, Lee was lying between two opposing flag. He was not going to be fighting the blue or the gray, He was going to be fighting the sun. By the time we crossed into North Carolina, Lee was sound asleep. Having gotten my rest in church I was wide awake listening to Elvis Presley's American Trilogy. With a tank full of gas. I didn't stop until we were near hickory, when Lee and I both were not only awake but hungry, Lee rose from his reclined position, hopped off the tailgate of the truck and I saw something amazing. Lee's arms and legs were no longer fair skinned. In fact, they matched the color of red found on the American flag and rebel flag. He was burnt to a crisp.
That trip was one of those monumental experiences from being a child to becoming a man. We learned to cook, make up our bed, get along, handle conflict management, and the important use of sunscreen. Its a great memory. We rolled back into Mocksville with about $5 each in our pockets
I occasionally show up at Cades Cove. I still enjoy the scenery and always ride the 11 mile loop road to see the animals. As I cross the Y and look at the rocky beach, I always remember the spot where I almost got my neck broke (by Lee), and I am thankful for a friendship that has lasted since the 1st grade.
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