Tales From the 2023 Labor Day Escape

It has become somewhat of an annual tradition to make the run up to the Smokies for Labor Day weekend. It's a pilgrimage I've historically taken alone. It's not that I don't want to spend time with my family, but they understand I need some "alone time" every now and then to just recalibrate my head. I appreciate that tremendously. I don't even reach out to fishing friends that are somewhat local in the area. It's time I get to enjoy doing things on my own terms.

The dynamic for this Labor Day weekend changed a bit, as my wife had to leave town for a few weeks. Rather than a solo Smokies trip, my daughter Lilly decided to come along, surprisingly not against her will. See, Lilly didn't grow up to share my interest in fishing as I had hoped. Now 17, theatre and arts are her passions, which I support wholeheartedly. But the great outdoors... well, let's just say she can handle it in doses. 

While camping, bugs, and lack of Wi-Fi are non-starters, Lilly has enjoyed our prior trips to other National Parks over the years. She does seem enjoy being around water and wildlife, (and expressed an interest in some of the quirkier things that the Smokies had to offer). Oh, and just like me, she welcomed a chance to escape the hellfire temperatures of Florida for a few days.

The Friday Drive

I took Lilly out of school around lunchtime (she had a test she wanted to take) and we started the 8ish hour drive up to our airbnb in Bryson City, North Carolina. I reserved a tiny house cabin for us that literally had the Tuckasegee River in its "backyard." It seemed to be the perfect spot for our weekend base camp, and just the right amount of room for the two of us.

The drive through Georgia was generally uneventful, but once we hit South Carolina... Ugh. There were just accidents galore. Guess that's bound to happen on a holday weekend. With the concept of making "good time" and arriving before dark out the window, we just stopped at an exit, ate an early dinner, and waited for the cars to clear out. 

Eventually we got into North Carolina finding smooth sailing for a bit, but we did hit more traffic the closer we got to the Smokies. More fender benders, and people gawking at them slowed us down, but we finally got to the cabin around 10PM. Just enough time to settle in for the night, we had a few big days in front of us!

Saturday's Plans

Being a teenager, Lilly is one of those kids that will sleep until 2 in the afternoon if you let her. Taking advantage of that, we agreed the night before that I'd go out early, spend the morning fishing, and come back to the cabin around 1PM where we could go into town and get lunch. After that, I was going to take her over to the National Park for some light sightseeing and then end the day by heading over to the Seven Clans Rodeo in Cherokee (one of the aforementioned quirky things to do in the Smokies), so the day was pretty well laid out.

Fishing... and Much, Much More!

When I rolled up to the trailhead, it was around 7:30am and I was one of only 2 or 3 cars there. It's a pretty prominent trailhead, right along Newfound Gap Road. I geared up and went fishing.

The fishing was great. Caught a trout on like my 3rd cast, and it continued pretty steadily for the next 4 or so hours. A bunch of rainbows and a brown trout or two all came to hand. Beautiful little fish and gorgeous weather. The morning to this point was perfect.

When I arrived back to my car I immediately went to the tailgate to take off my wading boots and stow my fishing gear. Nothing seemed odd or out of place at all. However, once that task was completed, I walked toward the driver's side door and oh...crap... somebody smashed out the passenger door window.

At that point, a lot of things run through your mind. First is "What the fuck?"...  Second is "Did they take anything?"  Third is "Can I even get this fixed over Labor Day weekend - I'm 8 hours from home?"  Fourth is "What the fuck?"

Fortuntately, the only thing that was taken was a shopping bag of random supplies that was sitting right beneath the broken window. This was clearly a quick smash & grab. Nothing in the front seats and nothing in the back cargo space were touched. I sort of wondered if it was possibly a bear, but the job was too clean. No smudges on the window frame or door, no dirt or debris on the inside.

And as I learned once I got back to the tiny house and made some phone calls, no, it was not getting fixed this weekend.

Time to Recalibrate Plans

When I got back to the cabin, woke the still slumbering Lilly and told her what happened, she immediately said "What the fuck?" (Yes, she is daddy's daughter) and thought it would be awesome to take pictures for her Instagram. LOL.

Anyway, lunch plans got pushed back a bit as I had to run into town and get some plastic sheeting and duct tape to MacGyver a temporary fix. Shout out to the folks at Elder's Ace Hardware for hooking me up with the right supplies.

The Rest of the Day

I'll be honest, the rest of the day went by pretty fast. I had one half of my mind on keeping Lilly entertained... while the other half was just drained from the morning's follies. A nice conversation over a late lunch at Jimmy Mac's (a BLT for me and chicken tenders for the kid), kind of brought the stress levels back down to Earth.

After that, we actually were able to do everything we said we would... First a quick spin through the park near the Oconoluftee Visitor's Center. We even got to see some elk!

Then on to an evening of rodeo. I go to this every year, almost as much for the people-watching as the cowboy activites, and it did not disappoint. Lilly was particularly fond of the mutton-busting, which for those not in the know are little kids riding sheep as if they were bulls. Good stuff.

Sunday's Train Ride

Being on the tired side from everything that was Saturday, we both decided to sleep in a bit on Sunday morning. I just sort of lounged on the back deck of the cabin and enjoyed the sights of the river. It was a bit overcast, foggy, and on the cool side. It was glorious.

That afternoon we took the Great Smoky Mountains Railroad for a scenic ride along the river from Bryson City to Dillsboro and back. It was yet another quirky thing Lilly was looking forward to. 

By that point the fog had burned off, the sun was out, and the train ride was pretty fun for both of us. We sat in one of those open air cars with the seats facing the windows and got to see people down on the river in rafts and kayaks, all sorts of scenery, and even went through a tunnel. We enjoyed our late lunch/early dinner at the R&R Tavern in Dillsboro as well.

Chasing Waterfalls

Once back in Bryson City, Lilly & I decided we'd head over to Deep Creek and look at some of the waterfalls. Two of the three waterfalls are really close to the trailhead, so out of respect to Lilly's less than tolerance for hiking, it was a pretty easy in and out. 

Along our hike we saw posted signs for preserving the Smoky Madtom's river habitat, which sparked a conversation about ocean oddities. If you couldn't tell, Lilly takes interest in some of the more uncommon things in life. While she probably couldn't tell the difference between a rainbow and brown trout, she was quick to tell me about several weird looking sea creatures she wanted to create an art project around, such as the barreleye fish, which happens to have a transparent head. 

She seemed to have a good time (or at least humored her Dad for an hour and a half), which was a nice way to more or less end our activities this trip.

A welcomed evening back on the deck with an RC Cola and some Goldfish was a great way to unwind...

Mondays are for Travels

Labor Day itself was without much labor. We packed up the SUV and drove home, leaving early to make sure we got home in time to have a few hours of decompression before the real world of our work & school weeks started the next day. I will say that we were far more fortunate in the traffic department on the drive home, and that the plastic tarp and duct tape patch job held up all eight hours. Big win!

Epilogue

I'm really happy the weekend went like it did. And by that I mean that I'm so happy I didn't go alone this year. It was great to have some legitimate father/daughter time alone with Lilly. I mean she's a high school senior... she's growing up. And while she's not one of those kids who can't stand being around their parents, memory making opporutnities like this are rapidly getting fewer and far between. 

Looking back ten years from now the broken window will no longer be an inconvenience, but something to laugh about. And we'll certainly remember the tiny house... the river... the elk... the rodeo... the train... and the waterfalls. And maybe even the Smoky Madtoms.

Spiderwebs

Two of my favorite outdoor activities are hiking and fishing. They're both forms of recreation that I find calming, and to some extent even soothing. They allow my mind to wander, to think deep thoughts, while at the same time taking in the beauty that nature provides. I participate in both not necessarily in tandem, however to reach the small streams I prefer to frequent, the former usually comes paired with the latter.

There's that saying, and I'm not sure who made it up, that "the early bird gets the worm." While I can't prove the validity of that statement, I can vouch that the "early angler gets the face full of spiderwebs."

It's probable that you know what I'm talking about. Being the first one on an intimate trail or waterway in the morning, you'll often encounter the weavings of the resident arachnids, spanning the tight sections of land or water you're attempting to ascend. You muster your best limbo dance or shimmy to avoid disturbing the delicate weave of gossamer, but often you don't even see the trusses until it's too late. Typically it's a minor inconvenience, but at times you come face to face with the architect. Depending on your disposition to things that creep and crawl, that could be a level 5 traumatic experience.

It was a spiderweb sort of morning for me the other weekend in western North Carolina. I rose early, putting a premium on being first to the trailhead. This lead to an encounter with several webs on my hike in and amblings about the stream. I always enjoy seeing these marvels of nature, because it means I'm the first outsider to intrude today, the fish (and spiders) haven't been pestered yet, and should be eager to bite.. 

On this day, said eagerness was confirmed. It had rained the week leading up to this visit and the waters were high, the trails muddy, and spiderwebs thick. But it didn't matter, onward I pushed and found just enough soft spots in the rushing currents to locate the wild rainbows that call this tributary home. 

Tightlining small nymphs seemed to be the best tactic to bring a trout to hand. The tenkara rod I was using was perfect for this presentation. With the waters so generally swift, I did manage a trick a few fish with unweighted kebari, but they were the outliers. Had it been a nicer day conditions wise, I probably would have fished my 3-weight and dries, but it didn't look like rises were going to be a common occurance. 

After several hours of fishing upstream, I found the remains of a primitive streamside campsite and used that as a point of exit, hiking the hour or so back down to the trailhead. It's amazing how much slower one moves while in the water, consumed with prospecting each pool, riffle, and eddy. 

 

Dismantling and stowing my gear back at my SUV's tailgate, I couldn't help but notice the day's accumulation of spider's silk lightly covering my pack, rod tip, and hat. Running my hand across each to remove the remnant strands allowed me time to reflect on the day's activities. Perhaps spiderwebs are not for the faint of heart, but for an angler, they're definitely a sign of promise.

On the Tennessee Side of the Smokies

A few weekends ago I made the trip up to Gatlinburg, Tennessee to meet up with some friends for the 2023 TenkaraCamp at Elkmont Campground. While it wasn't my first time to the Smokies, it was my first time to that specific section and associated water. It ended up being a nice weekend, although the weather was a bit bi-polar. More on that in a bit...

I kind of associate the Smokies with rainbow trout...

I made the long trek from Florida to Tennessee early on Thursday morning. Fortunately, the drive was relatively uneventful, shooting up I-95, over into South Carolina on 26, and then up into Tennessee on 40. Traffic was light, and I was able to arrive at my destination at around 2:30 in the afternoon. I honestly think the biggest delay was caused by dodging pedestrian tourists while driving down the main strip in downtown Gatlinburg. Yikes. If you've never been, well, there are no words. And if you have, you know what I'm talking about.

In any event, once I got past that bit of chaos and down the road a couple of miles to check in at the Ranger station, it gave me just enough time to set up my campsite and then get a line wet for a few hours.

Little River runs right through the campground and made for some really easy access. I fished for maybe two or three hours and caught a little over a half dozen fish. Not a ton, but good enough to start the trip off on a good foot. I was actually surprised that the first three fish I caught were brown trout. I kind of associate the Smokies with rainbow trout (and in the far reaches brookies)... so that was also an interesting way to lead off.

That evening, about fifteen of us that had come in for the TenkaraCamp gathered at one campsite, telling stories by the fire. If I recall, I spent most of the time talking about Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and other things I can't (and probably shouldn't) remember with my friend Matt. After the early morning wake up, long drive, and afternoon of fishing, I was kind of on fumes at that point. Certainly made falling to sleep very easy that evening.

In my head it sounded fine...

Okay, Friday was glorious. It was also painfully exhausting. But really, it was glorious.

For some reason I thought it might be a good idea to go back and fish one of the tributaries of the Little River. Get away from some of the crowds that were in the campground and general vicinity and maybe bump into some brook trout. I had mapped out a plan to hike back about 5ish miles, fish all day, and then hike back to return around dinnertime. 10ish miles round-trip. In my head it sounded fine. By the end of the day my feet had a differing opinion.

Fortunately, I made new friend at camp the night before, and Paul was more than willing (he actually volunteered) to accompany me on this hike. In retrospect, I probably would have quit hiking long before I did if Paul wasn't there. But conversation was lively, and it made the time go a little bit faster. After about two and a half, maybe three hours of hiking, the two of us split up to cover different sections of water. I went upstream, Paul downstream, agreeing to meet back on the trail at around 4PM.

After a quick snack and drink of water, I popped into the stream and began to fish. And spoiler alert, while I didn't find a single brook trout that afternoon, I did find tons of rainbows. They were super eager too, bringing 3 to hand on maybe my first 5 or 6 casts. They took nymphs, they took wets, they even came up to smack a few dries.

Eventually a pretty steady wind started kicking up and I'm not sure if it was a coincidence, but the fish started shutting down. I was able to pick up a few more here and there, but defintiely not with the same frequency. In all, I think I brought a little under twenty to hand, and played with at least a half dozen more before finding a spot to climb through the brush and back on to the trail to meet up with Paul who I found beaming after catching himself what was essentially a "last cast" trout.

Pleasantries aside, I think we'd both admit that the walk back sucked. I mean it really suuuucked. It seemed at least three times as long as the hike out. Conversation was also a bit more sparse. I think we were both beat and focused on getting back so we could get our boots off and just relax.

Back at camp that evening there was another campfire get-together, this time with a larger turnout circling the fire pit. I sort of remember talking to my friends Bryan and Amanda for a bit, and getting introduced to her friends Rachael and Brock. Brock is a relative newcomer to tenkara fishing but quite versed with a fly rod and reel, so it was fun talking to him about both styles of fishing.

As for that evening... That bit of wind I felt while out fishing was the precursor to a stormfront rolling through the valley. It was a very windy and rainy overnight. While my campsite and tent survived the conditions just fine, I didn't sleep quite as well with that howling wind keeping me company.

It felt good to do nothing...

Not sleeping too well the night before, I decided I was going to take it easy on Saturday. The rain had stopped and it was moderately warm and sunny. It was actually the main day of the limited TenkaraCamp organized activities, with a gathtering in the morning at one of the campsites, a meet and greet, and some streamside clinics before everybody broke out to go fishing.

I basically just hung out at camp. I met and chatted up different people, recorded one of the educational sessions conducted by my friend Rob, and largely just watched people fish. I even took my folding camp chair streamside and just sat back with a cold drink and chilled out, dozing off briefly more than a few times. After running (and hiking) around the prior two days, it felt good to kind of do nothing. Fishing trips aren't just about the fishing.

Oh, then maybe around 2PM it got cold and increasingly dark and windy again. Uh oh.

The morning was sunny and warm enough to allow my tent to dry off... but that was suddenly under threat. Knowing I was going to leave first thing on Sunday morning anyway, I decided to break down camp a little bit early while things were dry. I just didn't want to risk everything getting soaked again. Nobody likes packing up a wet camp. 

Everything packed, and kinda dreading the 8.5 hour drive that awaited me the next day, I decided that I was going to forego the evening's campfire chats, and just head home, grabbing a hotel for the night somewhere along the way to split the trip in half. So I said goodbye to the folks that were at camp, and headed a few hours to Flat Rock, NC where I stayed the night.

A very good run up to the Smokies...

I'm a little bummed missing out on that evening's campfire, I always get a little case of the FoMOs, but I did hear it was a little on the cold side on Saturday night and Sunday morning, so I probably made the right decision. Plus, I was able to get back home to Florida with enough time to actually enjoy my Sunday at home, decompress a bit, and get myself mentally ready for the work week to come.

In all, it was a very good run up to the Smokies. I enjoyed Elkmont Campground quite a bit. In many ways it's a lot like Deep Creek on the North Carolina side that I really had fun at the year prior. I can see myself being back to both at some point in the future.