Why Not MOLLYWOOD Next?

Molly gives the Crossville, Tennessee, campground two paws up, as the management was considerate enough to provide a cat for her to chase.

Little miss Molly had been eyeing the campground cat since we checked in on Friday night, and she broke her leash to dash after it on Saturday morning. There was a wild, high-speed chase around the Gumby van, with the cat in the lead, Molly close behind, and Sandeep far off in the distance, running with his coffee mug in one hand and shouting, "Molly! No!"

The cat made his escape, as cats always do. Molly said that she had just wanted to give the cat a hug, but that he had misunderstood her intentions. I explained that cats are silly that way.

The nice campground manager, who had recently moved to Tennessee from Freedom, New Hampshire (just north of Wakefield!), forgave Molly for chasing his cat and suggested Route 70 to us as an alternative to the crowded and uninteresting Route 40, so our morning drive was pleasant. Route 70 passes through the small towns rather than around them, and we always enjoy seeing where people really live. Eventually, we followed Route 321 south and east towards the Great Smoky Mountains.

Our GPS lady appears to have recovered her wits now that we have left Arkansas. We'll be hoping that she does not suffer a relapse.

The landscape was hilly and green, and we thought Maryville, Tennessee, off Route 321, looked like a pleasant little town. A little further along the road, we stopped at a woodcarving shop and a pottery studio. Soon, though, we arrived in Pigeon Forge, hometown of Dolly Parton and home of Dollywood, the Dollywood Water Slide Park, and miles of traffic, souvenir shops, amusements (laser tag! go-karts!), t-shirt shops, and, for some reason, FIVE pancake houses within a short distance of each other. Eeek! 321 passes right through the horrifying center of it all. You can see Sandeep's reaction in the photo above. I looked much the same. Sandeep said, "Dolly Parton is responsible for doing THIS to America?"

The Great Smoky Mountains National Park was beautiful, though. We drove through in the late afternoon, and were able to watch the sunset, which was lovely, with row after row of mountains fading away into the distance in paler and paler blues under a pinkish sky.

Our guidebook tells us that Great Smoky Mountains is the most visited national park in America, followed by Yosemite, and that was evident. A nearly constant stream of cars was travelling in each direction on the road, and most of the trailhead and viewpoint parking areas were filled to overflowing. Oh well... People may flood the more accessible national parks, but at least they can't fill them with water slides, laser tag, and flashing billboards, and that's definitely something to be thankful for.

We're camped for the night just west of Asheville, North Carolina. Onwards and eastwards!