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Introduction

Stand in the Gap
Peaceful civilization and frontier history meet in Cumberland Gap

Jones’n for a Borough
Deserters find solace in Tennessee’s oldest town

Recreationally Reclusive

Leave the Mule at Home
The least-known scenic skyway in the East

Museum in the ’Grass
An old-time mountain homecoming with music a’plenty

Recreationally Reclusive

Big South Fork, a beauty of a park to hide in

There’s something peculiar about a lot of journalists I know: many of us are morbidly shy, socially awkward and neurotically uncomfortable around most other human beings. So it’s sort of odd that we have gravitated toward a profession where we’re required to chat with strangers every day.

I don’t want to pick apart my voyeuristic tendencies here. But when I want to escape from work for an afternoon, the last thing I want is to go to some quaint little clichÉ of a rural town where I’ll have to confront Southern hospitality, which I find is often more superficial than genuine. Even just driving through some of these tiny God-fearing towns gives me the bejeebers, lingering effects from an unpleasant encounter with some Bible-thumping preachers in Wartburg a few years ago. I want to get the hell away from people.

Fortunately, East Tennessee has a lot to offer in what has become my own church of sorts: the outdoors. There are many places just an hour or two away from Knoxville—the Smoky Mountains, Cherokee National Forest, the Cumberland Mountains—where you can escape people, dogmas, social expectations, work, yourself.

One sometimes-overlooked such place is Big South Fork. It falls somewhere between a national park and a national forest. Unlike parks, you can hunt and trap there in the national recreation area, ride mountain bikes.

In terms of geography and environment, it’s a lot different from the Smokies. “We go this way,” says park ranger Steven Seven, making a V with his hands; “Where as the Smokies go this way,” as he turns the letter upside down.

Mostly the trees here are a mix of hardwoods. There are no hemlock forests, which provide large canopies to create cool, shady areas year round. But Seven says the plant diversity here is almost as broad as in the Smoky Mountains.

One of the park’s biggest draws is the geology. “A lot of neat geology,” Seven says. “A lot of rock climbing is starting to take place.”

There are a lot of funky sandstone rock faces and rock overhangs. Several of these were used as dwellings by Native Americans, Seven says, adding that digging for artifacts is strictly prohibited.

“We’ve never found any evidence of year-round habitation,” Seven says. “But they’d come up hunting and use them as temporary shelters. There are as many as 3,000 temporary shelters in the park.”

The Twin Arches and Angel Falls are probably the most popular sights here, but there are lots of gorgeous overlooks. And the hiking is much less strenuous than some of the Smokies trails—no Mount Sterling-like death marches here. But scattered all around the park are great waterfalls, overlooks, gorges and rock formations.

There are plenty of places to get away from people in Big South. The Honey Creek Overlook is one of the least traveled trails, but one of the nicest, Seven says. However it takes a lot longer to get to from Knoxville because the Burnt Mill Bridge is out. If you’re looking to backpack and get away, he suggests trails north of the Twin Arches.

I don’t have that much time, so instead I take a stroll from the Leatherwood Ford parking lot in the southeast section of the park. I wanted to check out Angel Falls, but I got a little confused by the signs and head south instead of north. Still, it’s a nice 2-mile hike up onto the ridge—save for the abundance of spiderwebs covering the trail. Up on top I get a nice view of the Cumberland River, then follow the trail a little further out, still not exactly sure where I am. Eventually I hit a gorgeous meadow.

I retrace my steps and then stroll a few miles out the John Muir Trail, which follows the Cumberland River, eventually coming to an old O&W Railroad Bridge, which has been converted to a car bridge.

All in all, I cover about 10 miles—but they were a pretty easy 10 miles.

And except for a nice elderly couple near the mouth of the trail, I never see any other people.

October 7, 2004 • Vol. 14, No. 41
© 2004 Metro Pulse