Sometimes you have to go through Hell to get to Heaven.
Last Saturday, that hell was called Pigeon Forge, Tenn.
A long-awaited day hike in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park was our goal as my two companions and I set out in the glorious morning weather. We knew to expect traffic, but we blazed ahead on the single route that would take us to our destination, Newfound Gap.
What we didn’t know was that the annual Pigeon Forge Spring Rod Run car show would bring thousands of motor enthusiasts to the 11.6 square mile city.
We were off to a promising start when we sluggishly rolled into a McDonald’s, desperate for caffeine and seeing no Starbucks on the horizon, to find that during breakfast hours that day, coffee was free.
Avoiding a $3 cup of overrated coffee is a small victory, but a victory indeed.
Things started to slow down, literally, just short of the Pigeon Forge city limits. We came to a crawl that would not pick up speed until we had crossed the entire city and begun the climb toward Gatlinburg.
However, our good moods and the ample tourist-watching made the pace bearable.
Cars, tricked-out and junkers alike, filled every spare parking space and their owners lounged in lawn chairs lining the main thoroughfare. Wife-beater clad car enthusiasts shared the sidewalk with confused looking Asian families.
This picture of American diversity was enhanced nicely by the exhaust fumes expelled from the hundreds of static vehicles crammed onto US 441 Scenic Highway.
There is almost nothing more frustrating than being trapped in the middle of excess on your way to escape it.
An audible sigh of relief rose from each passenger of my cramped car when we finally made it out of the smoggy mess, trees rising on all sides we wound our way toward the park.
Too many hours after we left Knoxville, we pulled into the parking lot at Newfound Gap where we would start our hike to Charlie’s Bunion. Quite literally named after the deformed foot of one very special Charlie Conner, the end of the eastbound four mile trek along the Appalachian Trail grants adventurers a sweeping view of the Smokies.
We blazed through the easy, if slightly inclined, hike in good time, encountering panoramic views and wildlife along the rocky path.
As always, the labored breathing and growing blisters begged the question, “Is this even worth the effort?”
When we had reached the rock outcropping for which the trail is named, I saw that it most definitely was.
Although “the Bunion,” as the far more impressive AT hikers called it, was a little crowded for my taste, I’ve never felt smaller than I did when I climbed atop the rock and could see mountaintops for miles all around me.
If Heaven is anything like Charlie’s Bunion, I’d gladly go through many hells to get there.
Half an hour and several photo shoots later, we turned to make the walk back to society and complete our eight-mile day.
Exiting the trail into the mountaintop parking lot, we passed a couple wearing large packs approaching the start of what looked to be an extended trek. The female half of the pair held the hand of a middle-aged woman as they walked the last few steps away from civilization.
As I watched this mother figure send them on their way, I thought about the adventure the couple was heading into and the moments that walk would most certainly feel like a mistake.
I also knew, however, that temporary hell would be far outweighed by the heaven of a spring day in the mountains.
Emilee Lamb is a sophomore studying journalism and electronic media. She aspires to work for National Geographic as a writer and photographer. She can be reached at [email protected].
