
6 minute read
The Great MountainSmokyAdventure
from TROUT - Fall 2023
BY ANDREW PEGMAN
At long last, the big day had arrived. It was the moment we had been waiting for: the start of our family vacation. Soon, we would embark on a glorious road trip to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Of course, we had a few small matters to address first.
We roll out of bed early, before the phone alarms and the first glimpse of the sun. We begin the process. The process involves relocating packed and loose items, both large and small, from their current rooms to different rooms closer to the car.
My primary role in the process has always been arranging the luggage in the vehicle. The vehicles have changed over the years, but the process has not. I wrangle the notso-compact cooler, the stuffed duffels, the bulging backpacks, the fishing gear, the hiking gear and the water jugs. And more. So much more.
The 8-bit music began to play somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind as I shifted the cooler into a back corner. It’s a complicated game of Tetris that isn’t complete until the final piece of the puzzle slides neatly into its place.
I’m an expert at it now. Everything has its place, and I cover the entire contents with a plaid blanket. Nice and tidy. I’m done—except I forgot the three extra bags of food, drinks and snacks on the kitchen table. Let’s try that again. Cue the music.
Once we’re on the road, we’re all smiles. It’s still early, well, kind of early. We swore we’d be on the road by five. It’s a bit later than five, closer to nine, but that’s OK. The sky is blue, the windows are down, the traffic is light and we’ve got great tunes, all we really need.
We make great time passing through Ohio and into Kentucky. We travel through rural farms and big cities, enjoying the sights and sounds. Eventually, we settle into silence, that is, until we catch the signage for the Cumberland Gap. It’s clearly time for a song that captures the moment.
Now, we are in the groove. It’s that special part of the trip when we’ve been on the road for a while, and we need a little lift of the old spirit, a boost of morale that only music can give us.
My son and I belt out the lyrics word for word at the top of our lungs. After a while, we cruise across the state line into sunny Tennessee.
Aha, another landmark ahead! Rocky Top!
The riders are again happy and content. We’re getting close.
Eventually, we slowed down for the increased traffic and rolled through Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge. We’re staggered; we’re overwhelmed. It’s incredible.

It’s the first time I’ve passed through towns where I’ve wanted to stop the trip and immediately visit ALL the stores—The Ripley Museum, the gift shop with the huge alligator door, the other gift shop with the huge shark door, the Titanic Museum shaped like the Titanic, the roller coaster on the mountain…
We came to see the national park but would also have to spend some quality time here. I could sense that immediately. We would be back.
We finally arrived at our cabin and immersed ourselves in the outdoor majesty all around us. The Great Smoky Mountains National Park is nothing short of magnificent. With the huge rhododendrons and endemic species lining the trails, the meandering streams, and the roaring waterfalls, the natural beauty is breathtaking and unique.
We hiked for miles with a collective sense of wonder. It’s an experience like no other. While we enjoyed seeing new species of plants and fungi, we can’t forget the incredible wildlife that calls the Smokies home. I know that we never did.


The ever-present idea that black bear sightings are somewhat common allowed us to burn those extra calories on the trail by keeping our heart rates elevated each time a twig snapped nearby. Our senses sharpened as we imagined bears emerging hungrily from the dense forests. On one evening hike, we became a bit uneasy, and as we hastily exited, three new hikers were entering the trail.

“Plenty of bears in there,” I told them as we passed. “Real and imagined.”
“Oh, good!” said one of the men, who sported a gray bushy beard and watery blue eyes. He was taking a long drag on a Marlboro in obvious preparation for his fitness hike.
We did some epic hikes on some challenging terrain. We always see it through, though. Whether the goal is a waterfall at the bottom of a trail or a mountain view at the top, we always stick together and make it to our destination. We’ve done some tough ones, and we got tougher—and closer—in the process.
I always get some fishing in wherever we travel. I brought a Tenkara rod along in my pack, and I would periodically stop to cast into the pools, hoping to land a feisty trout.
However, there had been a lot of rain before our arrival, so the water was running high and fast, which made the fishing difficult. I still tried—I always try. I eventually hooked a small trout but didn’t land it. I looked over at my wife and son, who were searching for salamanders. My son shrugged his shoulders with a smile as if to say, We’ll get ‘em next time. I smiled back.
I don’t give up easily when it comes to fishing. As we continued our hikes, I made some ridiculously accurate casts through tight cover and foliage, miraculously dropping the tiny fly into a small pool, but it wasn’t happening this trip. That’s OK, though. I had fished the Smokies.

This ending may differ from some wild destination stories, where the protagonist makes one last hopeful cast and lands a new state record. I made one last cast, and all state records remained intact. But I felt content. It was something to look forward to the next time.
There are always more fish, more trails and more adventures ahead. We would be back.