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Great Smoky Mountains National Park

A rainy spring visit

By Scott Richardson

January 23^rd, 2024

I wasn't avoiding the Smoky Mountains but wasn't excited to see them either. I've lived within an hour of the Appalachian Trail for over a decade, and I spent time in the Blue Ridge mountains at scout camp as a kid. I even skirted the edge of Great Smoky Mountain National Park on a road trip in 2019.

Just shy of 13 million people visited the park in 2022. Craving solitude and a little silence on the hiking trails, I didn't think the Smokies would impress me. But I was wrong.

I rolled into the Smokemont Campground well after dark. Most other campers had already gone to bed, leaving the sound of a campfire crackling nearby and the creek rambling behind my campsite as the only sounds in the dark.

Rain lightly tapped the windshield of my car as I set up my sleeping platform and snuggled in for the night. Sleeping inside the car meant I could move campsites quickly as I explored different park sections, eliminating long drives back to my tent to sleep.

Morning came fast as I woke up at 4 AM and poked my head out in hopes of clear skies. Seeing stars twinkling overhead, I stowed the sleeping platform and hit the road, searching for a vista to spot the Milky Way.

After a brief drive to a spot overlooking the town of Cherokee, I set up a composition with the Milky Way prominently silhouetting a tree, then adjusted it to capture more of the scene. I had a brief window before the predawn sunlight began to wash out of the stars, and within 10 minutes, the sky had started to light up.

I headed towards Clingmans Dome and took the short hike to the Observation Tower with plenty of time before sunrise. I watched as the mountains' soft pastel blues and grays turned more vibrant as the sun rose behind them. Behind me, the sun lit up the valleys, revealing fog hanging low almost the peaks.

My first significant hike of the trip was the one I anticipated the most: Mount LeConte. The 11-mile trail makes a steep 3000' climb from Newfound Gap Rd to the summit of Mount Le Conte. Before I began, my new water bladder sprung a leak and poured 3 liters onto the ground. Luckily, I had a collapsable bottle as a backup and was ready to hit the trail.

The trail paralleled a cascading creek for just over a mile before a footbridge leads through an arched rock. From there, the trail winds along a ridge, then steadily climbs to an orange clay rock overhang called Alum Cave.

The trail gets steeper from there, climbing for another three miles to the summit and providing incredible mountain views.

Next up on my to-do list was Chimney Tops, a moderate climb to a view of some exciting peaks. Doing this hike directly after LeConte probably wasn't the most brilliant idea, and a sign at the trailhead noted that the trail would end before the peak due to trail maintenance. After making half of the climb, I decided to turn around and make it a stroll through the forest.

The serene forest and small wildflower scenes kept me entertained. Trillium, milkweed, and phlox dotted the forest floor, and a stream gently cascaded down the slope.

I realized it was Cinco De Mayo and was happy I packed quesadilla supplies to celebrate. While I didn't finish my hike up Chimney Tops, I took a good view of them as I made roadside dinner. Adding the "micro camper" setup to my car is a game-changer: stopping somewhere scenic, pulling out a drawer, and effortlessly cooking dinner is fulfilling.

After dinner, I came across a mama bear and cub foraging for their dinner on a hill along the road.

Driving into camp that night, I spotted what I think was a bobcat (I've never seen one and understand they're somewhat rare to see, but this animal was active just after dark and had the same shape and small stature of a bobcat, so I'm counting it as a wildlife sighting).

The rain started late evening and continued steadily until mid-morning the next day.

I got an early start the following day and drove to the Lynn Prong Cascades. I stopped several times along the road to view the stream cascading down rocks. Eventually, I reached the trailhead and braved the rain for a few miles of the trail until a heavy downpour started to make the hike miserable. At that point, I backtracked to the car and made breakfast.

Next, I drove to Cades Cove, hoping to complete the loop road by the time the rain made hiking more pleasant. The mix of storm clouds and early spring wildflowers made for exciting scenery as I wound my way around the historic structures of this valley.

Halfway through the loop, a mama bear and three cubs picked at leaves high up in a tree. Several dozen cars were stopped in the road while a ranger tried to get them moving again. I found a place to park up the road and ran back, hoping to get a better view of the bears. I watched for 20 minutes as the bears navigated the tree limbs and eventually climbed down and walked further into the woods.

Luckily, the rain eventually faded away in time for a few more short hikes. I climbed up to Laurel Falls (seemingly with everyone else at the park that day), then looked for quieter areas to hike.

The plan for my last day was to explore the area around Bryson City, NC, so I headed in that direction as the rain returned. When I reached Newfound Gap, the border of Tennessee and North Carolina, it was pouring rain and obscuring all the views. The rain finally relented long enough that I could cook a quick dinner, then continued towards my campsite.

I spotted a bear foraging for its dinner along the road, watched it for a bit as it shook the rain off its fur, then retreated under a log to shelter from the wet weather.

The road into camp had sustained some storm damage; a few downed tree limbs made the narrow, gravel road challenging to navigate, but I made it to camp just as it got dark. I made a quick dessert of blackberry and dark chocolate s'mores over my camp stove, fashioned a rain gutter out of a trash bag to deflect water from my window vents, and then nodded off to sleep.

Heavy rain continued into the morning, and I realized I had lost a key piece to my coffee press, so sleepily, I went into the town of Bryson City to grab a coffee and formulate a plan for the day.

Bryson City looked to be a cute little mountain town with a tourist railroad running through its center. I only spent a little bit of time but grabbed coffee and breakfast at a nice spot called Mountain Perks.

The rain looked like it might finally relent, so I abandoned my plan to explore the Deep Creek section of the park in hopes of doing another mountain hike. Unfortunately, after driving up, I realized the storm had hidden the mountains in a thick fog.

Instead, I drove across the park in search of more waterfalls to explore. I ended up at Rainbow Falls and made the 5-mile hike as the rain fell steadily. The bright green forest turned into a misty scene when I reached the main waterfall. I snapped a few photos, then headed down as the rain started to fall steadily. I was kitted out in a rain jacket and rain pants, well prepared to stay dry in these conditions, but other hikers I encountered on their way up were dressed head to toe in cotton, including tight blue jeans, which could not have been pleasant to move in once they got soaked.

As the day got later, I carefully planned my route home. I hoped to see a few more sights, but I also wanted to ease the 10-hour drive I had planned for the next day. I decided to explore part of the Big Creek area quickly, then drive 3-hours north into Virginia.

While Big Creek was out of my way, it was close to the interstate, so I wound my way to its picnic area, explored its small cascades without seeing another person for an hour, and then hit the road toward home.

The following day, I detoured to the Blue Ridge Parkway to catch a few more sights before driving up the interstate for seven hours. Unfortunately, after a few miles of driving, I ran into my first roadblock and had to detour off the parkway. My only trips along the Blue Ridge have been in early spring, and as luck would have it, the road tends to be closed often in the early months. I backtracked, hit the highway, and cruised along mindlessly for the remainder of the day.