What I Did On My Thanksgiving Vacation Part 3

This past Thanksgiving I accompanied my parents and sister's family on vacation (for the first time since I was in college) to scenic Gatlinburg, Tennessee, where the seven of us spent five days together in a cabin/house. 

You can read all about Part 1 of the trip here and Part 2 here.

The day before Thanksgiving my sister and parents decided to go shopping at some kind of craft village. My brother-in-law Marcel, nephews Alphonse and François and I decided we'd had enough hiking and shopping for one day and stayed home at the cabin/house.

That's François and Marcel in the photo above.

It was very quiet in the cabin/house as we all relaxed and just hung out.

Right around 4 pm Marcel looked up from his book, glanced out the window and shouted, "There's a bear in the yard!"

Naturally the rest of us reacted with a hearty and skeptical, "Surrrrrrrre there is." But Marcel was insistent and when we all got up to look out the window, sure enough there really was a bear in our yard! 

I couldn't believe it! An honest-to-goodness bear sitting (I said sitting!) fifty feet from our house.

We opened the sliding glass doors and rushed out onto the elevated deck to get a better look. We made sure to keep the doors open, just in case we needed to get back inside quickly for some reason.

I will admit that I am no bear expert, but I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that he (or perhaps she) was a black bear. It was probably between four and five feet long.

That's me doing my best to block out the bear with my giant head.

He was aware of our presence up on the deck and from time to time would turn his head to look at us. He didn't act the least bit concerned about us, and why should he? He's a damn bear!

It was about that time that I started hoping that the deck on which we were all standing was solidly built. It would have been bad if it had collapsed and dumped us below right into the bear's lap.

That's me trying to touch the bear.

I also realized that less than an hour before we spotted the bear, Marcel had been relaxing outside in the hot tub on the deck, and I had been around the corner sitting in the porch swing enjoying the unseasonably warm weather. We probably just missed the bear walk past us both by seconds.

Alphonse is not impressed with the bear.

A couple of days earlier Alphonse had somehow cajoled his parents into buying him a police riot stick, of all things. You know, the ones that look like a billy club but have a handle sticking out the side? At one point while we were all standing on the deck bear watching, I looked down at Alphonse and noticed he was clutching his riot stick in his hand... just in case there was any trouble.

Around that time the bear apparently got tired of sitting in the woods (I said sitting!) and moseyed over to the downhill neighbor's house (in Tennessee you don't have next-door neighbors-- they're either uphill or downhill). He actually climbed onto their porch and started nosing around. Yikes! We didn't think the downhill neighbors were home, but right then the lady who lives there came out onto her (thankfully) upper deck. 

She saw the bear and started clapping at him and yelling "Shoo! Git outta here!" the way you would at a dog.

Amazingly that did the trick and the bear left her porch and lumbered back toward our house.

What a place to live, where the bears wander through your yard like stray dogs!

By now people laboring up the mountain road spotted the bear and stopped their cars to take photos. My sister and parents also came home about this time and they also joined us on the deck for some bear watching.

All this activity and noise was apparently too much for him and he started acting a little more concerned about our presence.

 

He actually tried to hide behind a tree for a few minutes! That's my dad's shoulder in the bottom photo by the way, showing how close we all were to this freakin' giant wild animal.

By the way, I apologize for the quality of these later photos. Chalk it up to the Bigfoot Rule Of Photography: the more amazing the subject matter, the more likely your photos will come out a blurry mess.

By now our ursine pal had had enough of civilization and started heading back to the wilderness from whence he came (or perhaps the dumpster behind the I-Hop).

He started heading behind our cabin/house. The thing is, the mountain rose directly up behind our cabin/house, at a near 90 degree angle. So by walking behind our house he was now even with our heads.

Everyone else ran back inside the cabin/house. Amazingly my dad and I stood there like idiots taking photos of a bear that was now a scant six feet away from us. It's a horrible photo, but you can kind of see how close he was to my dad there.

These photos came out so badly because it was starting to get dark and for some reason I forgot to turn on the flash on my camera. Now that I think about it, that's a good thing. Sure it ruined my photos, but it probably would have been a bad idea to repeatedly flash a strobe light into a bear's face when he was within mauling distance of me.

He then scampered around the back of the cabin/house, fell down the side of the mountain, and ran behind the natural gas tank.

Then he scampered through the driveway, as I lost my mind and chased after him to get a better shot. I have no idea what I was thinking. I admit this is a really bad photo and it could just as easily be a big dog or a cat in this picture, but trust me, it was a bear.

He then ran across the road to the uphill neighbor's, where he proceeded to jump on top of their garbage can cage (all houses on the mountain keep their garbage cans inside steel cages, to prevent bears such as this one from getting into them). He jumped up and down on the cage in frustration and then ran off into the woods, never to be seen (by us, anyway) again.

That was definitely our excitement for the day, and possibly the trip.

Needless to say after that we no longer cavalierly flung the front door wide open when we went outside. From that point on we cautiously opened the door just a sliver and peeked out until we were certain we wouldn't walk right into a bear's open gullet.

The next day was Thanksgiving, and after stuffing our craws full of stuffing, my parents and I decided to go back to Clingman's Dome. Well, I went back, they'd not yet seen it.

Once again I was fascinated by all the boulders in the woods, something unheard of where I live.

My attempt at taking a panorama shot of the Smoky Mountains. I got lazy and didn't try to color correct the panels.

We didn't climb up to the top of the Dome this time, we just stood at the base of the trail and gawked at the scenery.

That's my dad taking a picture of me taking a picture of him. Just like Inception!

And with that we bade the Smoky Mountains goodbye and came back to plain old flat Indiana.

It wasn't a bad trip and I actually survived living in a cabin/house with six other people. Would I ever go on another vacation with my family? What? I can't hear you. You'll have to speak louder. I can't... no, I cant understand what you're saying. I have to go. Send me a text.

What I Did On My Thanksgiving Vacation Part 2

This past Thanksgiving I accompanied my parents and sister's family on vacation (for the first time since I was in college) to scenic Gatlinburg, Tennessee, where the seven of us spent five days together in a cabin/house. 

You can read all about Part 1 of this experience here.

Here's one of those rare "Tennessee Ruler Trees" you hear about so much about but rarely ever get to see. This particular straight-edge of a tree was located right in the driveway of our cabin/house. It was so perfectly straight in fact that the owners of the house decided to use it as a light pole.

Here's a couple more Ruler Trees on the opposite side of the driveway.

Here's a shot of the mountain road in front of our cabin/house. As you can see it rises at a pretty steep angle. Our cabin/house was about halfway up the mountain, and each time we drove up it we could smell burning rubber coming from our tires, caused (we theorized) from the wheels constantly turning back and forth on the road.

Trivia: There's no word for "flat" in Tennessee as everything there is at an extreme angle. Things are either above you or below you, as illustrated here by our neighbor's homes.

During our stay my sister and brother-in-law and I decided to explore the Tennessee landscape and visit a local waterfall, accessible only by scenic trail. We tried to get my nephews Alphonse and François to join us but they couldn't tear their gazes away from the siren's call of the internet and Fruit Ninja. Kids today!

The trail looks deserted here but there were actually quite a few people coming and going along it. We noticed many people were carrying fancy high tech "walking staffs" as they made their way up the trail. Of course we mercilessly mocked them for owning such a silly affectation. Then after about ten minutes of walking up the steep route we all kind of wished we had walking staffs too.

Hey, don't go anywhere! There's lots of scenery to see after the jump!

What I Did On My Thanksgiving Vacation Part 1

For the past few years my parents and sister's family have been engaging in a new Thanksgiving tradition: The Holiday Vacation.

They always invite me, but so far I've never been able to go with them for various reasons. I was either working, didn't have a job, had no money or my personal astrologist advised me against traveling.

This year though the stars lined up and I could actually go, so I accompanied my family to Gatlinburg, Tennessee for Thanksgiving.

It's been a long time since I've been on a real vacation, and a very, very long time since I've taken any kind of trip with my parents. Not since high school in fact. And I've never been on any extended trip with my sister's family. I was a little curious as to how many days it would take before I decided to fly home by myself.

It's not that I'm antisocial you understand, but I live alone. In a house by myself. Just me. I'm used to peace and quiet. To suddenly be thrust into a cabin with six other humans like I was on some half-baked reality show would be a big adjustment for me. 

We would be staying in what everyone kept referring to as a "cabin" for five days. A cabin. In the woods. Seven people. In a cabin. In a remote area. For five days. Seven. Did I mention there would be seven of us living in this cabin? For five days?

After driving for six or seven hours we arrived in the kudzu-choked environs of Gatlinburg. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the "cabin" was actually a house. A fairly large house to boot. 

I was assuming we'd be staying in a small wooden shack in the middle of the woods, far from civilized living. I brought a book and a sketchpad, thinking there'd be nothing to do in this remote location. Imagine my surprise when I found out the house had cable TV and WiFi! Although it did have an old school "picture tube" non-HD television set. Roughing it indeed!

There were even two bathrooms, which was a godsend. Seven bathrooms would have been nicer, but that's probably not realistic.

Here's the view from the second floor of the house, looking out over the living room and out the large bank of windows into the forest beyond.

And here's the reverse view, from the living room looking up at the second floor. I ended up sleeping on a bed in a small alcove visible in the upper right in this photo.

A shot of the house's vaulted wood-paneled ceiling. Hey, I'd hate to have to dust that thing, eh? Amirite ladies? Eh?

That's my nephew François in the green shirt, watching the primitive non-HD television machine. That's my brother-in-law at the right. François brought his laptop with him and rarely looked up from it the entire week.

We took two cars to the house, so when I first arrived I found my sister's family was already there. My nephew Alphonse was upstairs playing Playstation 2 games (again, how deliciously primitive!) and proudly wearing a cardboard Burger King crown. Alphonse is 14 years old, by the way. I vowed I would get a photo of him in his stylish crown before the week was over. Alas, this is as close as I got.

Here's a view from the deck, looking out at the neighbor's house. We could monitor their activities quite well from this vantage point. You can't see it but just to the left was a hot tub on our deck. Roughing it!

No, I did not get into the hot tub. I wasn't expecting such an amenity and didn't bring any swim trunks.

Here's a shot of some of the neighboring homes, hundreds of feet above us. Pretty much every home I could see was either hundreds of feet above or below. There's no such thing as level ground in this neighborhood!  

How many houses can you spot in this photo? Hint: There are at least five. You wont be able to spot them; I could only see them at nighttime when their lights were on.

Here's the road above our "yard." Our house was about halfway up a mountain, accessible only by an incredibly steep, curving and narrow road. Think of the steepest, curviest and narrowest road you can imagine, and then double or triple that.

At certain points on the road you could look down and see nothing but an abyss plunging downward for hundreds, possibly thousands of feet. It would not surprise me if there are 1950s model cars full of dessicated skeletons at the bottoms of some of those ravines.

There were very few guardrails along the road. My suspicion is that they install rails on an "as-needed" basis. Wherever some unfortunate soul flew off the road, that's where the Tennessee Department Of Transportation decided a guardrail was necessary.

I have to wonder why anyone ever looked at this mountain and thought, "Say, this would be a perfect place to construct luxury housing!" Sure it's a scenic location, but it ain't exactly easy to live there.

If you buy one of these homes, you get a house and a driveway. That's it. At the home in which we were staying the "yard" was actually a forest floor that sloped away at a 45º angle. The lot contained absolutely no usable land whatsoever.

And god forbid it should ever snow in the area. Even a light dusting would trap you at the top or bottom of the mountain. They're nice homes to visit, but I wouldn't wanna live there.

While I was out front taking these photos I heard a voice from above. It was one of the neighbors a hundred feet above me. He called down to warn me that earlier that morning he'd seen a bear nosing around on the front porch of our house. Gulp! As I looked around I noticed that everyone's trash barrels were kept inside large steel mesh cages.

The day after we arrived my sister, brother-in-law and I decided to visit Clingmans Dome, the highest point in the Smoky Mountains. I tried to get my nephews Alphonse and François to go with us, but they couldn't pull their attention away from their electronic teats and stayed home. Kids today! Ah well, it's their loss.

We passed a multitude of spectacular scenery as we made our way up the winding mountain road.

I thought the road leading up to our vacation house was curvy, but the road leading to Clingmans Dome was even worse. Switchbacks, hairpin curves (quite literally), corkscrews... it was something to see. 

We were using a GPS device and at one point it just gave up, refusing to even try to display the road, leaving the onscreen car floating in a formless green void.

I'm from an extremely flat land where even a ten foot high mound is considered a hill, so vistas like these were completely foreign to me.

The temperature in Tennessee during Thanksgiving week was a balmy 60 - 70 degrees. Thanks, global warming! But as we continued climbing higher and higher up the mountain we started seeing snow at the side of the road.

After about an hour of driving we finally reached the Clingmans Dome trail. Here's a shot of the parking lot, complete with large snow bank. I took this photo mere seconds before a snowball fight broke out between the subjects in the background.

Boulders! Look at those boulders in the background! That's another thing we don't have where I'm from. I live in a 100% boulder free area.

The temperature was a bit cooler at this altitude, probably in the 50s.

Here are some shots from the Clingmans Dome parking lot. Note that we're actually higher than the large, flat  cloud bank at the left!

Here's a shot of the trail leading up to the Clingmans Dome Observation Post. That's the paved trail just above the ranger's hat. If you look closely at the left you may be able to glimpse some tiny people on the trail in the distance.

Eventually we began walking up the trail to the Observation Post. After about 5 minutes I started breathing much harder than normal. After 10 minutes I honestly felt like I was going to die. I had to sit down on a convenient boulder and rest for a minute.

I couldn't figure out what was wrong. Sure, the trail was steep, but it wasn't that steep. I walk all the time back home; every morning before work in fact. I walk a lot. I thought I was in decent shape, but the fact that I was gasping like a fish out of water seemed to indicate otherwise. I couldn't figure out what was wrong. My sister and brother in law were wheezing like bellows as well.

Then it finally hit me-- of course we were all gasping and wheezing! We were over a mile up the side of a mountain! Clingman's Dome is over 6,600 feet high. No wonder I was having trouble breathing-- there wasn't any air up there!

Another view of a cloud bank below us, which is definitely not something you see often outside of an airplane.

After much wheezing and struggling, we finally reached the Observation Post located at the top of Clingmans Dome, in all its Googie-design glory.

The Observation Post is accessible by a long curving ramp, seen here at the bottom of the frame. The ramp was an unexpectedly dangerous affair as it was covered in a smooth sheet of ice.

A view of the treacherous ramp and the clouds below.

Here's the spectacular view from the Observation Post at the top of Clingmans Dome. I guess all the gasping and crawling was worth it.

While catching my breath at the top of the mountain I had a morbid thought. The thin air at this altitude definitely makes climbing the trail a strenuous affair. So what would happen if anyone ever had a heart attack while climbing it? It took us at least an hour to drive up the mountain road. An ambulance might take a little less time, but not much. Then you'd have at least an hour drive back down to get to the hospital. It's unlikely you'd survive a two hour trip to the ER. 

Most likely they'd have to call in an emergency helicopter. Still, to anyone climbing the trail, my advice is to simply avoid having a heart attack in the first place.

Looking down from the Observation Post at the forest far below. Note the snow on the ground.

As the caption says, that's either Gatlinburg or Pigeon Forge off in the misty (or would that be smoky?) distance. You know, this view reminds me of something, but I can't quite remember what...

Oh yeah, now I remember. "Mos Eisley Spaceport. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum, and villainy. We must be cautious."

More amazing views from the Observation Post.

Here's a shot of people gingerly tiptoeing up the icy ramp, trying not to fall and slide all the way back down the trail to the parking lot.

That's me proving I was there.

Here we are walking back down the trail. We thought the walk back down would be much easier, but oddly enough it wasn't. 

Oh sure, it wasn't as hard as walking up, but on the way down you had to constantly "put on the brakes" so to speak, lest you get going too fast and topple over the side of a cliff, so by the time we got back to the parking lot our calves were killing us.

Haw! Christmas came early for me as I just found my brand new cuss word for 2013! I think I'll try it out right now. "Get out of my way, you stupid hotards!"

Here I am doing a pretty darn good job of blocking out the Smoky Mountains with my giant head.

Coming up in What I Did On My Thanksgiving Vacation Part 2: Another trail, and a near disaster as I almost topple off a cliff!