We do this every year. Alabama Dogwoods by our dooryard bloom and Azaleas flourish everywhere. It is glorious! So WE think it would be great to travel up the Smokies where it is several weeks from glorious, grumpy bears are wandering around with bedhead and trout seem happy to sulk around on the bottom in super cooled water.
Truth be told there is really no bad day in the Smokies, but some are better than others. Even in this latent period before everything springs to life, the sunsets paint the bare hardwoods and the winter deadned grasses.
|Cades Cove GSMNP April Sunset|
The night was near 36, but warmed quickly under a bright sun. We fished near the Abrams Falls trail head each day with marginal success. Patty did score another one for the team catching a good one in front of a mixed crowd watching from the bridge. Husbands were elbowed, high fives were exchanged and a rousing cheer went up as fishless spouse looked on admiringly.
One day we just pulled out camp chairs at the head of a meadow overlook and watched for the bear with FOUR cubs. No luck, but a pleasant way to pass an afternoon.
Another morning I showed Patty a hole where an old timer once told me he'd caught the largest trout ever seen in the cove. We weren't "suited up" for fishing, but she pulled her vest over jeans and gave it a try. She missed the strike and I missed getting the fish in the picture, but her expression tells the story.
But once again it is the stories. By happy chance, two of our camping neighbors were members of historic Cove families. They spun out details of lives they remembered and places they visited as children, told tales on ancestors and siblings alike and kept us enthralled. We excused ourselves far earlier than we would have wished so as not to intrude any longer on their family visit, but you can bet we will pull up a chair again anytime we are invited.