The spring of 1999 found us once again in the Smokies. This is undoubtedly one of our favorite times to visit the Cove. Nature bursts forth with renewed life from the smallest plants to the biggest trees. Fawns romp in the fields. There is a good chance to see bear cubs as they scroung through an old log on the ground while their mother watches protectively nearby. The possibilities are endless of what might be seen around the next turn of the road or cutback of a trail.
Equally unpredictable in the mountains is the spring weather. This time of year does not hold a monopoly on unexpected weather changes, but they can be more varied than the rest of the year. It can be cold, freezing, comfortably warm, hot, muggy, or stormy all in the space of a few days or even the same day. Carry an assortment of clothes in order to be prepared for wide temperature changes regardless of what the forecast is. If out on a trail, an absolute necessity is raingear. My kids were about to find out why I always insisted on ponchos when we hit the trails.
It was a warm, partly cloudy day in April. We parked at the Schoolhouse Gap trailhead on Laurel Creek Road about 4 miles west of the Townsend “Y”. We took a few minutes to check everyone’s water, made sure all had a poncho and we set off the trail.
Walking sticks themselves have been discussed at length in articles and forums. Some say they should be used if needed while others say they are useless and only add unnecessary weight. In my opinion, it depends on the route planned. If a trail is known to be easy without obstacles, it is probably unwarranted unless the person needs it as an aid. On the other hand, a steep trail or one with many obstacles might be the perfect example where one might be useful. The obstacles on this trail were expected to be creeks swollen by recent rains.
The Schoolhouse Gap trail follows the northwestern leg of a road built in the 1840s intended to connect eastern Tennessee with the Hazel Creek area near what is now Fontana Lake on the North Carolina side of the Smokies. The road extended southeast from Schoolhouse Gap up Bote Mountain across to Spence Field. It was never completed beyond that point.
The trail follows Spence Branch as it meanders back toward the parking area where it flows into Laurel Creek. About a quarter mile up, the trail easily crosses this little stream. The trail slowly climbs from there another ¾ mile up to Dorsey Gap on Turkeypen Ridge. If you remain on the same trail, it will pass near an area known as Whiteoak Sink, at one time the home of several families..
At Dorsey Gap, the Turkeypen Ridge trail angles off to the west and traverses its namesake before it drops back toward Laurel Creek Road. It was near this junction we first heard the distant rumble of thunder. We turned west onto Turkeypen Ridge and hoped the rain would either be brief or pass by altogether. Though the decision had not yet been made on how far we would go along the trails, Mother Nature was about to have a strong influence on the verdict.
We had traveled about 1 ½ miles further when the sky darkened, sporadic raindrops began to fall and thunder rumbled closer. At this point, the rain actually felt good and not hard enough to break out the ponchos yet. With fingers crossed, we continued up the trail as it wound along the top of the ridge. However, this was all about to change. It may not have been his fault at all, but we have continued to blame him ever since. Our son Matthew, about 13 at the time, was about to inexplicably alter the hike.
As our family’s biggest comedian, he decided it would be funny to challenge a higher power. He stopped in the middle of the trail, extended his arms, and gazed upwards with a shout, “Is that the best you can do ?!”
It is no exaggeration when I say the bottom fell out of the clouds at that very moment. No sooner had these words been uttered when a torrent of rain fell upon us. Ponchos came out of waist packs and we tried to get them on quickly but it was too late. The sheets of rain from above has soaked us through.
With a smile, Matt quietly asked, “Did I do that ?”
The answer resounded from several of us. “YES.”
Thunder crashed and shook the ground. Bright bolts of lightning lit up the forest. The rain blew in heavy sheets that caused us to tilt our heads to keep the sting from our faces. The trail rapidly became a muddy conduit for all the water off the slopes. The top of a ridge is not the best place to be in a thunderstorm, so we began to retrace our steps back to the cars.
Just when we thought it could not get heavier, our comedian struck a second time. With a glance to the sky, Matt once again yells out, “Is THAT the best you can do ?!”
An absolute inundation of water from the skies now befell us. If there was any dry spot left under the ponchos before, it was definitely gone now. We looked and felt like drowned rats. Bowed into the wind, we slipped and splashed our way back down the trail. Funny as it may have seemed at first, the humorous aspect rapidly declined. We told him to be careful, for one of these lightning strikes might be for him if he dared be so bold again.
At one point, the kids went ahead of us a little on the trail. They passed out of sight around a bend moments before a bright flash of light and instantaneous crack of thunder shook the ridge. We could not help but laugh when Matt’s voice came back through the woods, “That wasn’t me !”
Finally, the road came into sight. The dry haven of the cars would be a welcome respite from the rain. Though soaked to the skin and beyond, at least we could turn the heaters on to shake the chill from the rain. A warm campfire was also in the forefront of everyone’s mind if there was any dry wood at the campsite. The rain quickly slackened as our steps drew us near the cars and stopped completely as we stepped off the trail. In a matter of minutes, the clouds parted and the sun shone warmly. We all looked at Matt and blamed him profusely for our drenched predicament..
My youngest son had stayed at camp with his mom. Upon our return, she told us it had not rained there at all. Distant thunder had been heard but that was about it. The sun had been out the whole time. With half-hearted laughs, we told her the thunder had been an attempt by the clouds to blast us off the mountain because of Matt. To this day, our brush with Mother Nature’s attitude has been attributed to him.
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