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Stand in the Gap
Peaceful civilization and frontier history meet in Cumberland Gap
by Paige M. Travis
Cumberland Gap is quiet. The town, where Tennessee, Kentucky and Virginia meet, is a four-way stop tucked under the 2,440-feet tall Pinnacle Mountain. There’s not much to do here, which is precisely what I like.
First, you eat, because after the 60-something-mile drive from Knoxville, you’re hungry. Ye Olde Tea & Coffee Shop is nice for old ladies. But when I’m an old lady, I’ll still eat at Webb’s Country Kitchen.
Webb’s is one of my favorite eateries by virtue of its pleasing selection of vegetable sides. The greens are just perfect sprinkled with a little vinegar. The baked apples are naturally sweet, not gooey, and you get your choice of a roll or cornbread cooked in a cast-iron skillet. The décor is humble, dominated by pictures from the town’s past and articles about its history. Smoking is allowed in the front room, but since it’s the one with character, I’ve never even eaten on the other side. On my recent visit, the non-smoking side echoed with children’s screams. The smoking section has its privileges.
And, if there’s still room in your belly, fill it with cobbler.
Then you walk down Colwyn Street to visit the handful of antique, craft and doodad vendors. Every storefront on Colwyn is occupied, a trend that makes it very satisfying as a downtown, even if that district is only a block. (The plentiful free on-street parking would make other downtowns jealous.) Antiques are plentiful, if overpriced for out-of-town tourists. Picking over old things feels right in Cumberland Gap; at least a couple of the stores use the term “primitives” to describe their wares. Maybe that’s what makes them more expensive.
Whistle Stop Antiques is packed from floor to ceiling with old collectibles. Their specialty seems to be salt and pepper shakers of all shapes and sizes, each set more puzzling and amusing than the next. Cactuses, cowboy boots, coy kittens, and—my personal favorite theme—fowl in hats: ducks in red top hats and chicks in bonnets.
Even The Old Drug Store has antiques, but the highlight here is the fudge and ice cream. The man with the white beard who works behind the counter makes the fudge—pounds and pounds of it. The chocolate is good, even better in the half-peanut butter version. The ice cream, scooped into a cake cone, reminds me of the ice milk my Granny used to serve. It’s choco-light, not a frozen gourmet goo—a refreshing treat after the bounty at Webb’s.
From the bench out front, take in the view. Pinnacle Mountain looms over the town like a protective and benevolent mother. The town’s few houses are well-kept cottages and bungalows. To further digest your dessert, walk a couple of blocks to the old Iron Furnace, a vestige of iron ore’s significance in the area’s early history. What looks like an oversized chimney made of stone stands beside the creek, where a waterwheel used to power the fiercely hot oven that melted the iron out of stone.
According to Tom Shattuck, who with his wife runs Wilderness Road Tours, explains to me that a Canadian named Alexander Arthur founded nearby Middlesboro, Ky., in hopes that it would become the Pittsburgh of the South. The land was chock full of iron ore, limestone and coal, and with funding from England, he laid out the city of Middlesboro. People came, and for a few years, the boomtown turned out loads of iron, until they discovered the ore was of a low-grade nature. Coal quickly became the cash crop of Eastern Kentucky and has been king ever since.
Shattuck expresses extreme pride in the area’s miners, calling them the best in the world. “We light up the world,” he says.
If you’re feeling energetic, hike the mile-long trail that leads from the Iron Furnace to the point where the three states meet. Several trails, including the historic Wilderness Trail, crisscross in this area. Or, if you prefer a great view, drive up to the Pinnacle Lookout to stand in Virginia looking down on Tennessee.
A visit to Cumberland Gap is a treat enough in itself, but to further your understanding of the area, its history and ecology, proceed to the Cumberland Gap National Historical Park’s visitors’ center. The center’s new exhibit shows the different stages of the Gap, including its settlement and role in the Civil War. In the center’s auditorium, a quaint film from the ’70s has recently been replaced with two snazzy digital programs—one on the history of Cumberland Gap, and one about Daniel Boone’s passage through here 235 years ago.
Cumberland Gap was first explored in 1750 by longhunters (like Boone) who turned an Indian and animal path into a road that accommodated settlers. This notch in the Cumberland Mountain chain is the easiest entry within 100 miles, north or south, allowing settlers to spill out from the eastern seaboard into the flat farmland of Kentucky.
Up until a few years ago, that same path was a two-lane highway with the historic, if ironic, name of Wilderness Trail. Plans were made as early as the park’s establishment in 1955 to redirect US-25E from the gap and restore the area’s wilderness element. A bill was passed in 1973, and a development plan was completed in 1990. And, finally, after more than five years of construction, the Cumberland Gap Tunnel opened in 1996, shooting US-25E through 4,600 feet of mountain into Kentucky. The tunnel makes it easier for travelers to bypass the town altogether, but on the bright side, the Wilderness Trail, no longer paved, looks a lot more like it did in the 18th century.
This weekend, Oct. 8-10, will be a perfect time to experience the history of Cumberland Gap via American’s First Frontier: Colonial Trade Faire and Living History Event, to be held at the visitors’ center and Wilderness Road State Park. With period costumes, dancing, music, performers and tradesmen, the scene will likely resemble Williamsburg, Va., only closer to home. The Gap will be busier with more tourists than usual, but that’s fine. As long as my favorite four-way stop is peaceful next time I visit, Cumberland Gap will remain one of my favorite one-day getaways.
October 7, 2004 • Vol. 14, No. 41
© 2004 Metro Pulse
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