GSMNP Summer 2019

GREAT SMOKY MOUNTAIN NATIONAL PARK SUMMER 2019

Objectives:

Mt. LeConte (6593 ft - 3rd highest in GSMNP , 6th highest in Appalachian Range)
Mt. LeConte - Myrtle Point (6443 ft)
Mt. LeConte - Cliff Tops (6555 ft)
Mt. Collins (6188 ft)
Mt. Buckley (6560 ft)
Mt. Love (6400 ft)
Mt. Ambler (6120 ft)
Mt. Kephart (6217 ft)
The Jump Off (6105 ft)
Charlies Bunion - (Tourist) (5536 ft)
Charlies Bunion - (The Real One) (5560 ft)
Masa Knob (5680 ft)

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Day 1 - Travel Day
Total Miles Hiked: 5.8

I arrived in Cherokee, NC around 4:30 pm on August 13, 2019 to begin the GSMNP Summer '19 hiking adventure. The temperature in town was 91F as I drove through. I stopped at the famous "KFC on the corner" to get what would be dinner later that night.
As I drove into the park, like crossing some mystical boundary, the temperature immediately dropped to 79F. Several elk were grazing in fields just off the road not far into the park. I could feel it, something had changed. Smoky Mountain Magic was suddenly all around me.

Elk near Smokemont when entering the GSMNP

I made a quick loop through Smokemont campground because I like to ride through just about any campground and see what gear and set-ups people have. After Smokemont, it was on up the mountain to the Newfound Gap parking lot, where I found it to be a pleasant 73F.

In truth, this was the entirety of my plans for Day 1. But one thing I promised myself about this trip is that I would remain flexible. There were no "Set In Stone" itineraries that must be met. There was no schedule. There was no race, no competition, no schedule or program that had to be followed. This approach represented quite a departure for me, but for the next 3 days there would only be the names of the mountains on my list that I intended to climb, however, whenever.

So when I had arrived at my destination with still 4 hours of daylight remaining and infused with the energy that only cool mountain air can bring, I decided to head for Clingman's Dome and see how far I could get with the 3 peaks that I had originally figured could be taken on the last day of the trip (Collins, Buckley, and Love).

I was feeling confident as I was wearing my "upgraded socks." These aren't your normal daily wear socks. Firstly, they are "extra soft", and have a little L and a little R on them so that you would know which foot to put them on. These were the socks I wore on long runs, like half-marathons. I had more than one pair too. My bag was packed with them.

I drove down Clingman's Dome Road looking for the Fork Ridge Trail intersection. I found it after only a few miles and parked in the pull-off. There were no other vehicles parked, and on the other side of the road was the Appalachian Trail to Mt. Collins summit! Just a little off the road back under the canopy, the AT goes left to Mt. Collins summit and right to the Mt. Collins shelter. It was about a half mile to either. Maybe a little more to the summit.  I still had to get down to The Dome and the other peaks, so I headed for the summit and will see the shelter on some other trip. The Mt. Collins summit was uneventful with no views. The AT passes right over the summit, so its basically just a flat portion of trail before it descends down again. After assuring myself that I had reached the right point, I turned and backtracked to the truck and then drove to the Clingman's Dome parking lot.

AT to Mt. Collins at Clingman's Dome Road

When I got to The Dome parking lot, I had intended on walking the Bypass Trail to the AT (which comes out close to the Mt. Buckley summit) and not walking up the paved path to the tower structure. (A path I've walked at least 4 or 5 times already in the past anyway.) I looked around briefly for the trail head but didn't see it. It was already 6:30 and overcast so it seemed later to me psychologically. (I kept telling myself I have at least 2 more hours of daylight, probably 3.) I didn't want to waste time looking for it and i figured just walking up the paved pathway would be a good bit faster anyway. So I walked up, found the AT spur at the top and walked west for about 3/10s of a mile to the Mt. Buckley summit. (Passing the intersection of that Bypass trail just before reaching the summit.) There was nothing on the summit but it was more obvious than Mt. Collins' had been and more obvious than Mt. Love's would be. So with another summit checked off the list, I headed back east to the Clingman's Dome tower and then past it to the northeast and Mt. Love.
Things went a little against expectations here. I had anticipated that the trail to Mt. Love was just a short walk East of the Dome. But the trail turned North and then looped back West and started going down...and down...and down. This couldn't be right. It was after 7:00 now and it was quite dark down there under the canopy. Sure there was still plenty of light outside (back at the parking lot) but down where I was we were in the the final vestiges of dusk.  I continued on a little further and was reassured when seeing the white blaze that marks the AT on a trail side tree, so I knew I was where i was supposed to be. The trail just wasn't cooperating. Eventually we started back up and up, and up. It was getting darker. I don't know a lot, but I know the summit is at the top. So if the trail was still ascending it meant I wasn't there yet. So I kept walking...and looking at my watch...and walking...and looking at my watch. I told myself I had to turn around by 8:00 to head back. At 7:47 I reached the top and as described (from my research) there was a bit of flat trail before a rapid descent off the other side. This was the top. I had conquered Mt. Love. I looked around for a moment and then headed back. The trip back seemed shorter and soon I was hearing voices from the tourist mecca that is Clingman's Dome. I emerged from the darkness of the canopy out onto the concrete base of the tower and decided to make the quick stroll to the top. (I mean I was already there and it was still light outside, barely.) At the top I snapped a few terrible pictures that were far too dark to see, and began walking back down to the parking lot. I got in the Tundra and started on the 7 miles back to Newfound Gap and my resting place for the evening. It was dark for real now. About a mile before reaching the intersection with 441, there it was... a black bear on the shoulder of the road. I just caught a glimpse of it as it moved back from the black top.  For an instance I thought about stopping but I was past it before I could react. It was too dark for a picture anyway, and I figured if I doubled back, he would be long gone back into the forest. I considered it a good and fitting end to Day 1....but Day 1 wasn't over yet.

A thunderstorm was on the horizon and lightning could be seen in the distance. There were maybe a half dozen vehicles left in the large parking area of Newfound Gap when I arrived back there.  Mostly belonging to people who were out on the trail somewhere on multi-day hikes I figured. I found a good spot and then sat on the tailgate to eat my chicken and coleslaw in the dark, enjoying the tranquility of the cool air and the distant thunder. When I felt the first few drops of rain I decided it was time to head into the camper shell for the night. The storm came and it lasted for an hour at least. The rain poured down and the lightning lit up the sky and the thunder rolled across the mountain. I had parked right over a storm drain as well, so the water rushing under my truck and into the drain added to the audible delights of the night. I loved every minute of it and soon was asleep. It didn't last long, for when the storm ended, the people came back. I guess I had assumed that in the mountains when it got dark and there was nothing left to see and nothing left to do that people went home or went to their tents or wherever they go. That has been the extent of my experience either in the campgrounds or out on the trail. But this is not the case at Newfound Gap. Newfound Gap is apparently Grand Central Station (even on a Tuesday night in the middle of August) with people driving through, slamming car doors, standing in the parking lot talking at 1:00 am and driving around blasting some kind of latino/mexican rap music at 4:00 am. Comings and goings all through the night kept me from getting much sleep, and the sleep I did get was a bit uneasy as I wasn't expecting people to be milling about all around me (even if they had no clue I was right there, hidden in my canvas cocoon).

Day 2 - Mt. LeConte
Total Miles Hiked: 12.4

The first decision of the day after waking was deciding that I would not be spending another night in that parking lot. But as I warmed water for coffee and ate a Clif Bar for breakfast, my thoughts quickly turned to the activity of the day. If my trip had been an armada, the hike up Mt. LeConte would easily be its' flagship.

The Tundra truck camper backed into my spot where I spent Night 1. Where I would not be spending Nights 2 and 3

The days route would be Alum Cave Bluff Trail to the top of LeConte. The trail had the interesting attractions of Arch Rock, Inspiration Point, and the Alum Cave Bluffs. At the top there is the LeConte Lodge and LeConte shelter to check out as well as viewing areas known as LeConte-Myrtle Point, and LeConte-Cliff Tops.

I was on the trail at 8:00 am carrying only a light pack with water, snacks, camera gear and rain gear.
The trail started off like many in the Smokies do, a nice maintained trail, wide and flat, and following along a creek, crossing it several times over foot bridges.
I was less than 30 minutes in when I ran across my first fellow hiker on the trail. As I approached I noticed he was a little bit of an older gentleman, maybe early 60's with white hair and a rather doughy build. He was standing there, either taking a break or just enjoying the rushing water of the trail side creek. I gave him the "Nod of Acknowledgment" and the cursory "Good Morning" or "How are you?" or some such nonsense of pleasantries that are exchanged in passing.
As I walked past him, he responded with "Can you take my picture?"
"Uhh, sure" I responded, stopping and turning back toward him.
He handed me his camera, a Nikon. I couldn't help but take a glance at the model while he positioned himself rather skillfully next to a nearby tree. It was a DSLR, a D3200.
I took the picture and handed his camera back to him. I couldn't help but notice that he was wearing bright orange board shorts and a white cotton tank. He had no backpack but was carrying a cooler. Yes, he was carrying a small cooler up the mountain. He wore a ball cap that said "Let's Get Weird".
At this point my curiosity was peaked and I asked him if he was going all the way to the top. (As many on this trail turn around at Arch Rock or the Cave Bluffs and do not hike all the way to LeConte summit.)
I was a little surprised when he said he was going to the top, but I wished him luck and started on again.
"I'll have you know," he called out emphatically. "I have two stints in my heart and I'm recovering from back surgery."
Now I know the type. I've seen it before. They want to tell you their life story or somehow impress you with their misfortunes. In these instances I try to be polite, but also try to separate myself from the conversation as quickly as possible and move along with the days business.
I stopped and turned back to him feigning interest. "But that's OK," he continued, now walking (slowly) beside me. "I have the finest neurosurgeons working on me."
"That's amazing" I said. "I'm sure this exercise will do you good."
I started to pick up the pace. "This is my fifth time time going to the top." He called out again as I tried to walk away from him. "Fifth time and last time."
My curiosity was peaked again (And I really didn't want to be rude. After all, the mountains are about finding enlightenment, right?) So I slowed and turned back to him once again.
"Ashes of my dad and brother are up there on the summit" he continued catching up to me.
"Then why is this your last time going up?" I questioned, this time with genuine interest.
"I got other things to do with my life." He gruffly responded.
"Like what?" I asked, a little taken aback at his tone now.  (I couldn't help but risk the further entanglement of myself in this conversation.)
"Going to build houses for the homeless." Was his immediate and unnecessarily harsh response. There was something about the way he said it. Like there was anger in his voice.
I said something along the lines of "That's good" and followed it quickly with "See you at the top."
I advanced my pace and moved away, (doubting very much that I would actually see him at the top and thinking that  most likely I would see him on my way back down, if I ever saw him again at all.)

A little ways down the trail I came to the first attraction of the day - Arch Rock.
I have to say it was a little underwhelming. I don't know why but I was expecting some monolithic archway resembling something you would see in Arches National Park, Utah. I envisioned lots of hikers/tourists sitting and standing around taking pictures and marveling at the arch.

The reality was there was nobody there and I didn't even realize at first that I had reached Arch Rock. On approach I just saw a cool looking (to me anyway -photo below) staircase and wanted to get a few pictures of it. Then I realized the staircase went through a hole in the mountain. This was Arch Rock. I dropped my pack, got out the camera and started snapping a few pictures.
Soon enough a rather fit young hiker came rolling by at a good pace. He gave me the "Nod of Acknowledgement" and said "Good Morning."
It then occurred to me that the roles had been reversed. Now I was the old guy just standing there by the trail. As he passed I almost called out to him, "Can you take my picture?"
But I didn't. I figured he had probably already had a similar experience with "Let's Get Weird".
I headed up the staircase, through the arch and on toward Inspiration Point and the Cave Bluffs.

Approaching Arch Rock all I noticed was the staircase, not the arch

Arch Rock - from the top of the staircase

The view from Inspiration Point

It was approximately a mile from Arch Rock to the Cave Bluffs with a stop at Inspiration Point in between to snap a few photos. Unlike Arch Rock, there is no mistaking the Bluffs once you round the corner and they come into view. Your first impression is that you have stumbled onto some kind of ancient Mayan cliff dwelling. There is no cave here, just the huge overhanging bluffs. I don't think any of my pictures do justice to the size of the place. Here there were several people resting, and taking pictures. Some kids scurried up and down the staircases that ran along the complex. I didn't stay long as I knew I was still not even halfway up and the toughest/steepest climbing still lay ahead.

Approach to the Cave Bluffs, unfortunately much is obscured by the tree. You can just make out the hikers at the top (not the blue shirt guy) in the center of the picture to get some sense of scale.

Alongside The Bluffs. They're even bigger than they look.

The rest of the trip up was a strenuous pull but eventually it flattened out as I reached the top and intersected with the Rainbow Falls Trail. From there it was only a short walk until the buildings of the LeConte Lodge began to come into view on my left side, and slightly below the trail.

A particularly sketchy stretch of the the upper part of Alum Cave Bluff Trail. At least a guide wire has been installed to hold onto because it was a long way down!

The rustic LeConte Lodge. This building serves as the office and check-in point. Many other small cabins are scattered around the area.

The Lodge was more primitive than I had expected. Just a number of small cabins nestled in among the trees, making it impossible to get a good feel for the true layout of the place or a good photo of more than one building at a time. There is no plumbing or running water.
I rested on a bench for about 5 minutes, took a few pictures and then continued on toward the summit.

Before reaching the summit however, there was one more stop to make, the Mt. LeConte shelter. The shelter is built like all the other shelters in the park, a roof with 3 side walls. This particular shelter has had the fireplace filled in and a notice saying that open flame burning is not permitted at this location.

The shelter on Mt. LeConte

LeConte shelter interior. Notice the filled in fireplace on the far wall

Moving on, I finally reached the large rock cairn that marks the Mt. LeConte summit. I stopped to take a few pictures, add my own small addition to the cairn, and savor the moment.  Mission accomplished.
There are no views from the summit, for that you have to trek on to Myrtle Point or Cliff Tops. Myrtle Point was where I was heading next. Onward I marched.

Mt. LeConte Summit. 3rd highest peak in the GSMNP and 6th highest East of the Mississippi

The views from Myrtle Point were a little disappointing due to the now overcast skies and low clouds. Maybe I would have better luck at Cliff Tops but I doubted it. The skies were getting darker and I needed to hurry up and start heading down before a storm rolled in.

The best shot from Myrtle Point I could get with the low clouds.

Myrtle Point marked the "farpoint" for my hike on this day. It was now time to turn around and head back. Cliff Top would be a 3/10 of a mile spur trail out and back, but I was at least now heading back towards the Lodge and then down the mountain. I took the spur to try my luck with the views from Cliff Top but they were no better than at Myrtle Point. To top it off there were two yahoos out on the edge trying to fly a drone off the mountain. There were no views on this day and even if there were, I couldn't get a picture without them and their flying machine in the way. I greeted them when I first arrived, but they said nothing in return. I'm pretty sure they didn't speak English, or at least were pretending not too. I didn't stick around, the skies were getting darker and I had 5.5 miles and over 3,000 feet of descent to go to get back to the truck.

I was headed down at 12:50 pm, having spent about 2 hours at the top all together. About 30 minutes into my descent, I see "you know who" coming up the trail towards me. It's "Let's Get Weird" still trudging along, cooler in hand. I gave him a quick word of encouragement as we passed but didn't stop. I couldn't help but wonder if he had plans to stay at The Lodge or maybe the shelter for the night. At his pace he still had an hour to the top easily and I was doubting very much that he could even make it up and all the way back down by nightfall.
I got caught in a few light showers early in the trip down, but nothing too bad. By the time I reached the Cave Bluffs, I was under a pretty good canopy the rest of the way and didn't get wet. I never even felt the need to pull any rain gear from my pack.

I kept pushing hard on the way down. Not wanting to stop for a break. I don't know why. I kept telling myself, to just slow down. I had all day and nothing to do for the rest of the afternoon anyway. But still I pushed on to the end. Some habits are hard to break.

It had been a strenuous hike, and I was quite tired. I walked out of the canopy and into the now bright sunshine (such is the weather in the Smokies) at 3:04 pm. It had taken me approximately 3 hours to the top. I had spent 2 hours at the various spots on top, and it had taken approximately 2 hours to get back down. My Garmin had clocked nearly 30,000 steps and 12.4 total miles hiked with over 3,000 foot of elevation gained and lost as well as over 3,500 calories burned. Somewhere in the middle of all that (I think maybe sitting on the bench at The Lodge) I had eaten a Clif Bar. My only sustenance out on the trail but I hadn't been hungry at all during the walk.

My plan for the afternoon was to head to the Chimney Tops Picnic area and grill some hamburgers, put my feet up and begin the recovery process for the next days hike. It was only about a 10 minute drive to the picnic area and I was very surprised to find it at probably 50% capacity. (In other words there were a lot more people there than I was expecting.) But I was able to find a nicely shaded spot and got out my camp chair, put my feet up and devoured a can of pineapples. I sat there reading and relaxing for probably an hour before deciding it was time to cook the burgers.
The picnic areas close at 8:00 pm, but the Sugarlands Visitor Center closes at 7:00, so I left the picnic area around 6:00 pm (feeling much better than when I had arrived) and went to the visitor center/gift shop.  After that I had decided that I would try to stealth camp for the night at either the Elkmont or Smokemont campgrounds. Elkmont was my first choice as I left the Visitor's Center because I was already on that side of the park but I couldn't remember Elkmont having any extra parking area that would serve my purpose. I knew Smokemont had plenty of parking as several trail heads are located there. I rode out to Elkmont and took a tour through the grounds. As expected there was no where suitable to discreetly park and so it was back over the mountain to Smokemont. I arrived just before dark and that was good timing as I found a nice spot in the very back with two other vehicles near the Bradley Fork trail head. Campers adjacent to my spot took no notice of me and I was able to slip into the camper shell and disappear for the night. Only the sounds of crickets and the nearby stream could be heard as I drifted off for a restful and undisturbed night of excellent rest.


Day 3 - Charlies Bunion
Total Miles Hiked: ~11

I awoke refreshed and not nearly as sore or fatigued as I thought I might be. It was a Clif Bar for breakfast and then back in the truck for the short drive back up to Newfound Gap, the starting point for today's trip East on the AT out to Charlies Bunion and back.

My spot, tucked away at the back of Smokemont Campground

Once again I was on the trail right at 8:00 am but the beginning to this trail was the opposite of yesterdays experience. The Alum Cave Bluff Trail had started out wide and soft and mostly flat before finding rockier and steeper grades further up. The AT out of Newfound Gap starts off climbing with rocky portions and big cumbersome step ups.
But I didn't mind. I was alone on the trail and walking under that mystical Smoky Mountain canopy. The sun's light was somewhere up there. Blocked by clouds. Sometime later on it would be allowed through. But for now only a soft gray haze permeated the air. I stopped to catch my breath. For just a moment time seemed to stop. The stillness of morning was all around me.

After a mile or so the trail settles into a gently rolling and much nicer trail to walk. You're on the high ridge that crosses the Park going West to East at this point so once you're up there, you're up there. There isn't much more climbing to do. The trail at this point isn't bad at all.

From Newfound Gap. Pre-hike Day 3

The first objective of the day would be to summit Mt. Ambler.  About 2 miles into the hike the AT runs right by Ambler's summit, just below and to the left of  it. It's an easy bushwhack of about 30 or 40 feet if you know where to look. I found the spot on the trail that looked like the best place to head up and had an easy walk to what appeared to be the obvious summit. I was hoping to find a cairn or something marking the summit. I didn't see anything at first. It took me a minute before I realized that I was standing right next to a very small cairn that had actually been built on the trunk/roots of an overturned tree. But it was there and once I noticed it, it was obvious that it was man-made. This was the summit of Mt. Ambler. I looked around for a small rock to add to the cairn but could find nothing suitable in the area so I went back down to the trail and found one to add to the summit monument.

Ambler Summit. The small cairn framed between the hiking poles.

Another view of Ambler summit. Straight ahead is the slope back down to the AT

Taken from the AT, This photo looks up at the short route to the Ambler summit.

Continuing on down the trail you come to the intersection of the AT and the Boulevard Trail. The AT and the route to Charlies Bunion goes to the right while continuing to go straight puts you on the Boulevard and in 5.5 miles you would be back at the top of Mt. Leconte. Basically the Boulevard is a ridge walk that connects LeConte to the AT. I wasn't interested in going back to LeConte so soon, but you have to take The Boulevard a short distance to the spur trail that leads to the scenic overlook known as The Jumpoff. The sign at the AT/Boulevard intersections says .3 to The Jumpoff, but I'm pretty sure it was lying.
My side trip off of the AT to The Jumpoff was easily a half mile each way but the good news is the Jumpoff trail takes you directly over the summit of 6217 foot Mt. Kephart. Another peak was checked off the list and I was able to get some great views from The Jumpoff. Another interesting thing of note happened there as well. There was a young couple (college kids) from Minnesota and I overheard one of them say they "Had a signal." I pulled out my phone and turned it on. (I had it turned off to save battery life as I hadn't had a signal since I entered the park 2 days ago.) Sure enough I had a strong signal at the Jumpoff. I texted Robin that I had a signal at The Jumpoff! Her exact response was, "That's cool. What's The Jumpoff?
After snapping some photos it was time to get back on the AT and finish the journey to Charlies Bunion.

This is the Jumpoff. Don't look down!

Blue Skies over the Smokys from The Jumpoff

Back on the trail the next place of interest I would come to would be another shelter, Icewater Springs. The shelter sits right beside the AT and is impossible to miss. As I approached the shelter, my phone which was in my pocket started pinging. I had forgotten to turn it back off when leaving The Jumpoff. And now it was alerting me of incoming text messages. They were from Robin. Apparently sent after I had left that little island of signal at The Jumpoff. I texted her back and then my phone was ringing. I stood there on the Appalachian Trail, smack dab in the middle of the Smoky Mountain National Park at Icewater Springs shelter and had a 5 minute phone conversation. Unbelievable.
After catching up on a few things and assuring her that I was still alive and doing fine, I spent a few minutes checking out the shelter and then headed on.

Icewater Springs Shelter. Open flame burning in the fire place is allowed at this one.

Next stop, the days destination, Charlies Bunion. It was another mile and a quarter to the Bunion past the shelter, but when you come upon it you practically run right into it. The AT skirts around it to the right but the short pathway out to the rock is unmistakable and well marked with a sign that says "Closely Control Children."

Now those who are in the know (like me) are aware that there are actually 2 Bunions. There is this first one, also known as "The Tourist Bunion" and there is a 2nd one that is less well know that many consider "The Real Bunion." This seems to be some closely guarded secret as the 2nd one is not marked on any maps that I have seen and there are no indications for it on the trail. Confident in my superiority for knowing there was something better on down the trail, I smugly walked out to the Tourist Bunion and as expected there were quite a few people already on and around the rock. 7 or 8 folks at least divided into a few small groups. Many were lounging in the sun and eating snacks like granola and bananas. More were showing up while I stood there taking in the view.  I stayed long enough to snap a few pictures and even take my turn climbing out onto the big rock once it was vacated and became available.

Hikers leaving the Tourist Bunion

A popular destination hike for a reason. Amazing views from the Bunion.

I took my turn on the rock once this guy came down.

The view from out on the rock

I returned to the AT and continued North. I wasn't sure how far it would be until I found the trail to the Real Bunion. And I didn't really know what I was looking for. It's all kept very secretive, you know. The only thing I did know was that it should be less than half a mile and that if I came to the intersection with the Dry Sluice Gap Trail then I had gone too far and should turn back and search harder for the trail up to The Real Bunion.
After about 3/10 of a mile I cleared the canopy and came to a section with a great broad clear view on my right side. This was a clue that I was near. I looked to the left, at the slope of overgrown brush that went up into nothing. Then I saw it! The faintest of trails!

"This couldn't be it." I thought to myself. "No way am I going up that."
There wasn't much there. No trail at all really except the visible rocks on the ground for the first foot or two into the underbrush. I stood for a minute pondering. I had been told to expect it to be overgrown in the summer, but this was ridiculous. Then again it was a virtually unknown trail to a virtually unknown location. After further reflection, "This has to be it," I thought.

I started up, feeling as though I was about to take my place within some secret society. I had my hiking poles and was doing my best to reach out with them in front of me as I climbed. The goal was to  disrupt the brush in front of me on either side of the trail as I went. I didn't want to surprise any diamond backed inhabitants of this particular hill that may have been slumbering away the heat of the day down there under all that growth.

Standing on the AT, this is what I saw as the trail to "The Real Bunion". Was I going in there? Of course I was. I just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to step on a rattlesnake. Luckily I didn't.

Off I went, slowing picking my way and stabbing at the brush in front of me with my hiking poles as I went. "This was the best adventure I've had on this trip yet," I thought as I went along. Going somewhere where nobody else goes. Literally off the beaten path. This was pretty cool.

Eventually I made it up there and I was rewarded with The Real Bunion. And I had it all to myself. I sat up there for 15 or 20 minutes and saw not a soul. Off in the distance I could occasionally hear the far away voices of the hapless masses over on The Tourist Bunion. But here I was alone. The clouds rolled in and then they rolled out. The views came and went with the cyclical movement of the clouds.

An amazing view from The Real Bunion

Minutes later, completely lost in the clouds.

When I had sat there long enough enjoying the solitude, I picked up my backpack and prepared to depart. The big rock I had been sitting on went up a little higher on the one side and, being that I am who I am, I of course decided that I would have to stand on the highest point to truly claim the peak as climbed. I scampered up the rock. What I saw next was truly astonishing. Another path leading up and around the rock! A secret passage up and around to a higher and farther rock outcrop. This was my destination. All along I had sat just below, thinking that I had discovered the secret Bunion. Thinking that I had been let in on this marvelous secret, only to still be an outsider, oblivious to the truth. But now I was here. There could be no doubting it. This was the end of the line.

The secret path that finally led to enlightenment

The view from the endpoint. The Real Charlies Bunion, Top Tier. Clouds moving back in again...

At last it was time to head back. Down through the overgrown trail and then back south again on the AT. There was only one peak left on my list that I had not climbed on this trip, Masa Knob.
The knob was just above the AT back on the other side of Charlies Bunion. I had checked it out while on my way out the trail but didn't see a good place to bushwhack to the top. The thing was so overgrown that I couldn't even tell where the summit might be up there. I had decided that I would give it one more good once over on the way back in and if I couldn't find a good place to go up, then it would have to wait for a Winter attempt when the growth would be down and visibility would be better. I never did find a good place to go up, but I decided (of course) to give it a try anyway.
I scrambled straight up the side using the hiking poles and hand holds. At several points I was on my knees and crawling, but I made it up there. The only problem was this wasn't the summit. The knob was large and there was still brush and fallen trees everywhere. I couldn't move much better at the top than I had on the climb and still couldn't see far enough to tell where or how far the actual summit might be. After thrashing around through the brush for a few minutes I had to concede that I couldn't move freely enough to make any progress and I couldn't see where I was going anyway. This mountain would have to wait for Winter.
I managed to half step/slide back down to the AT. Then I was headed back for Newfound Gap.

I made it back to the trail head parking lot at around 3:30 pm. I had been out on the trail 7.5 hours and estimated that I had walked about 11 miles. I couldn't be sure because my watch battery had died somewhere between the Icewater Springs shelter and the Bunion.

As with the day before, I was tired and ready to head for a picnic area to rest and recover. Despite general fatigue from the walking, I felt quite a bit better than I had the day before. Not as much climbing on this day was probably the difference.
Since my stay at Smokemont had been so pleasant it was a given that I would be staying there again. With this in mind I chose the Collins Creek picnic area as my afternoon resting place as it was in close proximity to Smokemont.
Collins Creek was empty except one family way at the end. This was interesting as it was about the same time of day and Chimney Tops had been so very busy the day before. Anyway, I sat and ate the last two pieces of chicken I had been saving from my first nights dinner. A few folks came and went, but I had the picnic area to myself mostly. The weather was beautiful as I sat in the shade and listened to the nearby creek flow by. I sat there enjoying the day until about 6:30 and then it was time to head back to Smokemont.
It is probably less than a 10 minute drive from Collins Creek picnic area to Smokemont and I arrived with plenty of daylight remaining. I didn't want to make it too obvious that I was stealth camping in my truck so I parked in my spot at the back, then got out and went for a stroll around the campground. I made the rounds like many others out for an evening walk. I greeted campers and waived as I passed, acting just like I belonged there. Even to the Ranger making his final patrol through camp before dusk. Then it was time to head for the truck and disappear into the shadows of that dark back corner of camp.
The night was as quiet and serene as the previous one had been. I didn't sleep quite as well though. Maybe it was in the knowing that I would be up at first light and heading for home. The GSMNP Summer 19 trip was over.
Except it wasn't over yet. The mountains had one more amazing experience waiting for me.


Day 4 - Homeward Bound
Total Miles Hiked: 0


I awoke to a still asleep campground just after 6:30 am. By 7:00 I had all my gear packed away and secured and was in the truck pulling out of Smokemont campground. The temperature was 57F.
Its only about 4.5 miles from Smokemont to the southern entrance of the park on Route 441.

On my way out, I rounded a turn and saw two huge bull elks fighting near the road in a field to my left. They slammed into each other, tangling their sizable racks of antlers. I pulled over directly across from them and fumbled in the back seat for my already packed away camera. By the time I had it, the combat was over. One of  them was now slowly walking away, back deeper into the field. The other stood by the roadside just across from me. I couldn't say for sure who won or lost but the one that remained carried himself like the victor. I'll call him "The Alpha Male".
I rolled the window down, camera in hand. I looked at the Alpha  and he looked at me. It's my opinion that we shared a moment. Just he and I in the stillness of the Smoky Mountain morning. We reached an understanding.
After that, I took my pictures and he started eating.

The Alpha Male

Just antlers from the shoulder of the road

It wasn't long before other cars started showing up (and stopping). I pulled back onto the roadway and moved along. Just around the next curve I found the rest of the herd. I stopped for a few more quick photos and then I was on my way.

Momma and baby

The Elk herd near Smokemont Campground

I continued South on 441 and crossed that mystical border back into the real world.
Six hours later I pulled into my driveway. GSMNP Summer '19 was over.