The Great Outdoors

Well, we survived our trek into the Appalacians. What a gorgeous part of the country! Fortunately, we went early enough so we avoided most of the summer heat (although it was still quite warm due to the East Coast heat wave). We hiked, we rafted the white water rapids, we rode a train through the Great Smokies, and just generally relaxed and enjoyed the mountains. And, we ate our way through Bryson City, Cherokee, Gatlainburg, and Maggie Valley. In addition to some souveniers, we bought back with us some great stories.

First, let me tell you about Uncle Charlie. Uncle Charlie was our tour guide while rafting the rapids. He's a young-at-heart 78-year old part time resident of Bryson City, NC, who proudly wore a tee shirt which stated, "You don't grow old because you raft the waters, you grow old because you STOP rafting." He is one of the coolest people you will ever meet. He knew that river like the back of his hand. Because of his knowledge and guidance, we stayed in the raft the entire trip down the river (instead of getting flipped out like many of our fellow rafters). After our trip down the river, I talked to him briefly about his life and his experiences on the river. He summed it up by saying, "I've been rafting these waters for almost 35 years. I know it better than most of the people who have lived here all their lives. Everything that could happen to you on that river has happened to me. That river and I have an understanding. When it's time for me to stop, she'll let me know." He then told us about the local history, the local people, and local legends. I could have talked to him for hours, but there was another boatload of people waiting, so Charlie had to go. But the two lessons he taught me: (1) age is just a number, and (2)your experiences keep you young, so never stop trying new things.

We met up with an old Cherokee tribe member while visiting the Cherokee museum. He was also in his '70s, had lived in Cherokee all his life. He talked to us briefly about the town's renaissance from neglected reservation to bustling tourist town (thanks to the new Harrod's Casino, which is owned by the tribe). The pride he felt at seeing his people finally self sufficient was obvious. They now had quality medical care, new schools, improved infrastructure, and money to put towards ongoing projects. It tickled him that tourists drove hundreds of miles to learn about his culture, tour the museum, and enjoy the local art shows, when he could quite clearly remember when Cherokee children were put in boarding school to make them more "white", so they might fit in with the world around them. He now saw the world trying to fit in with the tribe, and he was enjoying every minute of it. As he now stated, with a big teasing smile, "We don't scalp the white man anymore. We just send him to the casino, and he'll scalp himself."

That's probably the best thing about traveling. You get to meet all sorts of people you might otherwise have never met. Well, that, and the Indian bread. That's pretty good too.