Vacation 2002- Monuments and Mountains
I began
this year's "Great Summer Trail Riding Vacation" plans very early in
2002. The last couple of years had been spent in the western states, for a
change we were ready to head east. Since July is usually the month chosen for
travel, high altitude can be a big plus. Head For The Mountains is a good motto
to heed. Cool temperatures and few bugs rate highly with us midwestern
flatlanders. We had ridden 10 years or so ago in the Smokies of Tennessee, and
were ready for a return trip. Being a history buff, and learning that a private
campground existed across from the Gettysburg battlefield in PA, I schemed to
combine the two. We left on a Tues. afternoon, bound for the primitive
equestrian camp at Sycamore State Park, on
the western outskirts of Dayton, OH. Six hours later, right at dusk, we pulled
into the park, which was basically surrounded by suburbia. I had called ahead to
find out if our late arrival would be a cause for problems (it wouldn't) AND, to
make sure they had hitching rails in camp (tying to a trailer you plan to sleep
in is a recipe for insomnia) I was assured that there were hitching rails. What
they really had were picket line posts spread hither and yon. Okay, no problem,
we can work around that. The camp was new, clean, well maintained, and a nice
place to get off the road and catch a few zzzzzs before our long drive on to
Gettysburg the next day. We unloaded, rigged up the donkeys and mule so that
they were each tied to a post and couldn't slide it to the ground or untie
themselves, fed, watered, and hit the sack ourselves. I can't say I got much
sleep, as Beulah the Mule was posted right outside my open window . Beulah is a
good mule in most respects. The only thing she hates is being tied. Listening to
her steady pawing and non stop game of "ring around the picket post"
is how I spent most of that night. We were up at daybreak (imagine that!) on
Wed., and headed east on I-70. Things were going smoothly, and we started
playing all the entertaining games one plays with a restless six year old child
in the backseat. I was busy spotting out of state license plates about the time
we started hitting road construction on the PA Turnpike. The pucker factor
immedietly skyrocketed as we hurtled along at speeds I don't want to imagine,
pulling an 8 ft. wide trailer, side by side with semis, on looonnggg stretches
of road that were bordered by concrete walls on both sides, due to said
construction. That was stressful enough. But we were soon to learn the number
one rule of midwesterners pulling their big honking truck & trailer rigs in
an easterly direction (and ours isn’t really that big, a 24ft. box on
the gooseneck) BE CAREFUL WHERE YOU EXIT. Plan ahead for your every departure
from the interstate/turnpike. Because when you get off, pulling your large
unwieldy load behind you...you're going to discover very narrow
streets....streets that aren't laid out in nice, predictable, easy to
get-back-where-you're-headed-if-you-make-a-mistake blocks. A couple of hair
raising stunts involving unplanned trips through towns whose streets were laid
out back in the horse and buggy days, searching for food and fuel, and we
learned to stick to truck stops. With relief , we pulled into Artillery Ridge
Campground on Taneytown Road in Gettysburg, late on Wednesday evening.
Facilities were great...we had a water/electric site with a large, roomy corral
right behind it for the critters. A clean bathouse was within a minute's walk.
We got unloaded, set up, and prepared to soak up the awesome history of the
area.
The next
morning, up early again as we were eager to see the sights, we went into town
for a bite of breakfast, while waiting for the NPS Visitor Center to open. We
watched a film about the battle of Gettysburg, toured the facinating museum in
the same building, and then headed back to saddle up our donkeys and mule to
ride the trails of the Battlefield. While riding, I tried to think of how I
could possibly explain in a written manner, what I saw and how it felt. I know
I’m going to do a poor job of it, there's just no way to communicate the
strange mixture of feelings it inspires. Peace, sorrow, awe, ....Riding right
across the fields themselves, under a hot blazing still July day, I could close
my eyes and hear the wild yells, feel the boom of cannon fire, smell the smoke
from the guns, and see the men fall. There is no way you can tread that ground
and not feel the
weight of it's history, of the 50,000 souls who gave the Last Full Measure. I
felt it was a precious gift to be able to ride my animals and experience the
battlefields in this fashion, let's hope it remains open to the public for
equestrian use. Currently there is a loop that extends around the outer edges of
the Battlefield, with a spur that runs out and back off of the north end of the
loop. We didn't do the spur, but the loop filled most of the day. There are many
monuments and markers to stop and read, as you make your way around. Naturally,
you are sharing the space with tourists, so it pays to be courteous and
considerate as you interact with the public in these spots. We attracted a fair
bit of attention, two of us on Mammoth donkeys, and Roger on Beulah the Mule.
Our six year old son, Noah, turned into quite the little history buff while we
were preparing for this trip to Gettysburg. Before our ride, he had to hit one
of the tourist shops in town and buy a "Union soldier" replica hat.
This he wore on our trail ride, peppering us with questions about his personal
Union hero, "U.S. Granite" ;>) We explained (more than once) that
"U.S. GRANT" didn't fight at Gettysburg ;>) We were glad we made
the pilgrimage to Gettysburg...if nothing else as you walk amongst the thousands
of grave markers in the National Cemetery, it makes you very humbly appreciate
the sacrifices that so many gave in the name of our country and it’s freedoms.
On Friday
morning we pulled out and headed south through Virginia on our way to the
Smokies. An overnight stop had been planned at a Yogi Bear Jellystone Park near
Natural Bridge, Virginia. I can’t think of anything good to say about this
place and our experiences there, so will say as little as possible. Bungled
reservations and a very unprofessional, unapologetic staff led to our standing
out in broiling 90+ degree weather for 2 hrs., until we were finally
“allowed” to plug in our trailer next to an abandoned rental string barn and
use the stalls after we’d cleaned them out. I had made reservations here well
in advance (as I do on all of our trail riding trips) Lesson learned …..call
to reconfirm your reservations shortly before you leave home, AND be sure to
take a confirmation number with you if you have one. I did have the number, but
failed to bring it along.
We wheeled
out at daybreak on Sat. morning, eager to make it on to Martin’s Stables, at
Cosby, TN, where we would spend the next week riding in the Smokies. About 3 or
so that afternoon, we finally reached it. Martin’s is a small, family owned
operation, with only 3 “sites”, situated around the outskirts of the barn.
There are stalls in the barn, or paddocks if preferred, and a very cute shower
house with flush toilets. We unloaded the donkeys and mules into a half acre
paddock, and got the trailer set up. After a good night’s sleep, we hit the
trails the next morning. The trails…..ah!!!!! what trails they are!
Of all the places we’ve been, the trails in the Smokies remain my
favorites. There is an almost a “tropical rainforest” feel to
them….everything is lush and green…some of the rhododendrens still retaining
blooms….noisy, crystal clear streams bounding down over the huge mossy green
rocks. Except for the sounds of those streams,
and the occasional bird singing, there is an unearthly quietness. The
smell of pine is sharp in some places, where trees have fallen. The three trails
we rode were Snake Den, Low Gap, and Mt. Cammerer. Each was slightly different,
and interesting in it’s own way. Because we had to ride about an hour from
Martin’s Stables to get to the trail heads, we were never able to take a loop
ride on any of these trails. Most of our rides were 6 – 7 hrs, out and back.
On the Low Gap ride, we did make it to the Appalachian trail around lunch time.
We stopped there to eat our snacks, and had the novelty of Noah and I sitting on
a rock and eating in Tennessee, while Roger sat across the trail from us in
North Carolina consuming his ;>) For the most part, we had the trails to
ourselves, but would occasionally encounter hikers. The hikers usually remarked
on our “nice mules”, one even complimented us on our “cool horses”
;>) The donkeys handled the going very well. These trails were much narrower
and rockier than those we had ridden years ago in the west part of the park.
They marched along and tried to keep Beulah in sight (she is a “goer”, to
put it mildly) I got pretty nervous on the Mt. Cammerer trail. It was a rainy
day, the ground was fairly slick, and the trail was NARROW. It was one of those
with the mountain straight up on one side of you, and a fall “from here to
eternity” on the other. I decided then and there that I was NOT Grand Canyon
Ride material.
The week
sped by swiftly. We interspersed the trail riding with some touristy acitivites.
Went into Pigeon Forge one night to go to the “Dixie Stampede” dinner
theatre. It was a lot of fun, with mock battles and competitions between the
North and South from horseback. They fed you a really delicious meal, including
roast chicken and pork, corn on the cob, biscuit, soup, and an apple turnover, all of which was eaten
without cutlery (the soup bowl had a handle on it). While you eat you cheer for
your “side” .There were also pig and ostrich races, which were quite
amusing. Another night we went to the Tuckaleechee Trout Farm, where you fish
for your supper, and then they cook it for you.
We also
took time out to explore the NPS horse camps that lie within the Great Smoky
Mountain National Park. There are no other private horse campgrounds (to my
knowledge) except for Martin’s, which allow you to ride into the park from the
outside. The down side is that Martin’s is still an hour away (by
horseback) from the trailheads, and involves a very dicey commute of
3/10ths of a mile along a busy two lane highway. It is also going to be up for
sale later this year, and is doubtful to remain open to the public. We thought
we would explore the possibility of day riding at other trailheads or possibly
camping in a NPS horse camp sometime in the future. Unfortunately, from the
looks of things the NPS does not want us (equestrians). They have made the horse
camps, and the trailheads with horse trails, absolutely the most unadvertised ,
inaccessible of any I’ve seen anywhere. They are located at the remotest
reaches of incredibly narrow, twisting, hilly roads (often upaved) with hairpin
switchbacks that would challenge a mountain goat,
let alone a truck pulling a trailer. The roads also come with one lane
bridges, no shoulders, crumbling pavement on the edges, and no signs anywhere
indicating that a horse camp is anywhere in the vicinity. In fact, the one close
to Cades Cove lies behind two separate gates that appear to be locked at sundown
each evening (the padlocks are not actually fastened) It is such a shame, as I
can see eventually the Park Service closing us out due to “lack of use” by
horse people. And the reason for that “lack of use” will be the INCREDIBLE
difficulty in accessing them. You
will drive up to a trailhead that features horse trails, and half a mile before
you get there, there will be a small, unmarked gravel pull off area, maybe big
enough to contain a couple of medium sized rigs. Up ahead, close to the trail,
will be a spacious, paved lot with signs clearly stating “Hiker Parking
Only---No Horse Trailers”…..yet back at the unmarked “horse parking”,
there are no signs asking hikers to please park elsewhere. So if a hiker takes
up that space, it’s “too bad” for the trail rider who has nowhere to park
his rig. We were extremely saddened by this….as I’ve said, to me the
Smokies are absolutely the most gorgeous riding anywhere in the country, with
hundreds of miles of trails available (if you could get to them) I am glad Noah
got to experience them, within a few years I’m doubtful that he’ll have the
opportunity again.
On
Saturday morning we bid a sad farewell to the Smokies and turned north, headed
home by way of Lexington, Kentucky. Noah is a rabid collector of Breyer animal
models, and the big “BreyerFest” Trade Fair was taking place that weekend at
the KY Horse Park. In my research for a place to stay overnight with the critters
close to Lexington, I discovered the Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill, about 25
miles SW of town. The Shakers are a defunct religious sect, who had a large and
prosperous village and substantial land holdings (2700 acres) in the area in the
19th century. The
village has been restored to reflect life as it was then, with some of the
buildings containing lodge rooms, and a large barn with stalls and paddocks
where one can board their animals and ride on the 15 miles of trails contained
on the grounds. We weren’t able to ride there, due to time constraints, but
spent two nights at the lovely, quiet, peaceful village. There are cattle,
horses, poultry, sheep, and two DONKEYS in residence (they are sheep guardians)
It felt like taking a step back in time. The Shaker Village also features a
dining hall with meals to die for ;>) Reservations are required, and it’s
apparent why, after you waddle away from their table ;>)
After a
trip to the Horse Park, some Breyer model purchases, and visits to see John
Henry, Cigar, and the grave of Man O’ War, we reluctantly loaded up and headed
home for the last leg of our great odyssey. 2800 miles later, Vacation 2002 is
one for the books ;>)