Well, this past week I was looking down into the holler toward Webb’s Creek thinking about how Gatlinburg sells more plastic bear ponchos than any other place on planet earth and is #2 in marrying people only behind those fake Elvis dudes in Las Vegas. The truly amazing thing, though, is that the plastic poncho sales and the record number of “I do’s” are both direct results of our annual rainfall. In the higher elevations of the Smokies we get about seven feet of liquid sunshine every year! Seattle is famous for their rain, but they get less than half of ours (a woosy 35 inches) and it usually comes in little baby drizzles weeks at a time! Our storm clouds in Tennessee never even heard of the word “drizzle” and “drenched to the bone” is an actual Tennessee medical term for a poncho-less visitor. What happens in Gatlinburg….gets wet in Gatlinburg.
The good news is that all of those giant flying dump trucks of rain usually pass on by in an hour or so, but not before filling up the beautifully landscaped waterfalls and streams for our visitors and challenging the maximum speed level of windshield wipers. That humongous amount of rainfall allows 135 different kinds of deciduous trees to grow and flourish and when those leaves change color in the fall it is a water-colored masterpiece. Over 1500 flowering plants pop up throughout the year and that beautiful natural bouquet located just a few steps up Chestnut Ridge Trail or the one in that open field down in White Oak Sinks still take my breath away. Scientists figure there are over 100,000 different kinds of life forms in the national park and that doesn’t even include Florida and Alabama visitors. Seven feet of rain supports the plants, trees, critters and bear poncho factory and has created a heavenly place to get hitched and honeymoon. Yep, seven feet of rain gits ‘er done.
I fondly recall meeting a young family that had just hiked four rocky miles up to Ramsey Cascades Waterfall. I couldn’t help but notice that the dad was wearing leather loafers with no socks and his lovely wife’s delicate open-toed sandals matched her shorts, top and headband (professional hikers are naturally observant). The children all looked to be above average and it was a beautiful sight to behold…a young citified family interacting with mother nature. After some friendly conversation I headed back on down and about a mile later three inches of our annual rainfall fell from the sky. The trail became a torrent mountain stream and I am sure that when that couple is 80 years old they’ll still reminisce about the time they almost drowned while standing up on Ramsey Cascades Trail. That night Gatlinburg sold four more plastic bear ponchos.
The Cherokee Indians called the Smoky Mountains, “Shaconage” (sha-kon’-a-gee)… land of blue smoke. That blue mountain haze is not really smoke. It is the result of our rainwater working its way through plants, trees and the air…on a journey back to its home in the sky. Keep your poncho handy because as sure as I have never actually paid for fudge; it will be back. Each year about 10 million folks from around the world stop by to see what seven feet of rainfall can do. That rain is the lifeblood of this majestic place famously known as the Great Smoky Mountains. Let it rain. That is just how it looks from my log cabin.
John LaFevre is a local speaker and co-author of the interactive hiking book series, “Scavenger Hike Adventures, Falcon Guides” by Globe-Pequot Press. E-mail to scavengerhike@aol.com or visit his blog at Falcon.com. G. Webb of Pittman Center does the illustrations for the column. Visit Gwebbgallery.com.
