Part 1: Towards The Smoke

I open the door and am greeted with a rush of crisp cool air. My eyes haven't yet adjusted to the sun, slowly the valley comes into view. Cradled by such beauty, this place seems holy; as if the base camp before a deep pilgrimage. Greenery fills up the horizon, shades so familiar yet individualistic upon the sun's rays. Trees paint the landscape, generating a soft composure for the world around me. Cherokee, North Carolina sits on the border of The Great Smoky Mountains National park, welcoming all those who come this way. 

Coming from a Floridian, anything 30 feet above sea level is impressive when you have spent the majority of your life below those points. Everywhere I looked was a marvel I never could experience, such things I either watched through a TV screen or literally dreamed about. This trip was a long time coming, here most particularly. The Smokies is a place of such unique biodiversity and ecological strength, the capacity as to which it can offer is little rivaled. With the mountain range itself being amongst some of the oldest in the world, almost entirely wooded and arguably considered a rainforest for its levels of precipitation, creating a sanctuary for life to flourish. No doubt as to why it holds thousands of different species within its borders. Personally, I was always drawn to the “Salamander Capital of the World” as there are more species concentrated here than anywhere else, including one of the rarest and largest salamanders in North America, the Hellbender. Almost mythological in its significance and semblance, Hellbenders can reach massive sizes of 20-30 inches, yet as they live primarily in healthy river streams underneath stones; are becoming increasingly difficult to find. Despite that, life oozes from all sources in this park. Just standing outside in Cherokee, the streams that divided the town, come directly from the Smokies bringing all manner of nature with them. 

I was happy to have time in Cherokee before going into the park. Almost like a sense of introduction and preface in a story before the second act. I needed context and time for those details to simmer within my mind. This town was deeply spiritual, with a connection and appreciation to what surrounded it. Thanks to the cultural presence here, it was preserved and conveyed for any passer-by, not by the trinkets and gift shops, but by the people who lived it and museums. Outreach groups from the Cherokee preserve gave demonstrations and group bonfire talks of history and the people's responsibility to payback to the land in which has given them everything. 

There sits a park in the city, nestled between a river fork, ironwork pedestrian bridges allow for a clear path through the frigid waters. Everywhere around, the land was littered with a healthy mix of Oak, Maple and Hickory trees, everywhere except the island. Completely isolated, was an overgrowth of bamboo, a maze-like display to explore. Shoots so densely packed one could not walk far from the path, and they stood colossal into the air. Bamboo shoots and leaves littered the ground, creating a soft, muffled carpet like effect. Not much of the sky was visible except directly above, where the bamboo had been cleared for the paths. Such a surreal yet calming atmosphere. Further down the island, as I followed the path, it opened into an expanse of playgrounds, smooth rocky shores and streams. Full of activity, happy children, family events and couples walking around, it looked as if half the town had showed up the day I was there. As i mentioned earlier, a bonfire had been lit for anyone who wanted to join in, many chose to do so. The community of this area was warming. While not the reason I came to Appalachia, I was very happy to have spent some short time here. Next stop however, was the big one.