You leave Interstate 40 and drive for 25 or 30 miles on a winding two lane road with little traffic and several turnoffs for lookouts to vistas of the Smoky Mountains, then descend into Gatlinburg, a tiny town with a permanent population of 4,000 happily presently overrun by far more than that many tourists. A mountain Duvall Street. T-shirt shops. Pinball arcades. A ‘Space Needle”. $16 for an adult to ride to the top. Outside of town are zip lining, hiking, white water rafting, and zorbing, among others. I did not know what zorbing is. I have learned that it is ‘rolling downhill in an orb’, a double walled plastic ball. A known risk is depleting the oxygen inside the ball and suffocating.
The crowd seem mostly happy and to be having a good time. Masks are in complete absence, including us. We are vaccinated. I doubt that all others on the crowded main street are. Tomorrow we breakfast on ‘low calorie biscuits and gravy.’ Well, perhaps not. An drive on to Buffalo Trace.
4 comments:
Enjoyed this post. As I scrolled and scrolled through the many pictures and contemplated the title of this post, I started to grin as it occurred to me that I suddenly got the dry humor. In fact I would have been perfectly satisfied if there were no following description. A picture is worth many words.
I would pay good money to see Webb strolling Main Street with cotton candy before zorbing and becoming absorbed by Ripley's. Lots of good money. It would be worth it.
Make sure to demand some Col. Blanton while tasting at Buffalo Trace. It's my Laphroaig!
Enjoy your time and travels.
Lamentably all the tours and tastings were reserved more than a week before our visit and we were able only to walk a small part of the facility and visit the huge gift shop where we bought a bottle of Buffalo Trace, a bottle of Buffalo Trace Old Fashioneds—Carol likes Old Fashioneds, and a box of Buffalo Trace filled chocolates—I like chocolate.
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