Every Step You Take

March 12, 2021 by Amy Welborn

Every. Single. One.

Earlier this week, Kid #5 expressed interest in a jaunt this weekend. Well, not really the weekend since Saturday evening and Sunday morning would be focused on playing for Mass, but maybe Thursday evening to Friday?

(Other parameters – Chemistry and piano Thursday morning and then boxing boot camp Thursday late afternoon, which he didn’t want to miss since he’d be skipping his usual 5:30 AM Friday session if we did this)

This would be the last such opportunity we’d have for a while, considering a beach trip he’s taking with friends, Holy Week, the ACT, a piano recital, and then another family-related trip in mid-April.

So, sure.

I initially thought the north Georgia mountains would be good (the TN Smokies are just a bit too far for this) – I have several destinations I’d like to hit there over the next few months anyway. Plus I could use an IKEA trip. It’s been a couple of years. But then I decided I wanted something just a touch closer, and I remembered the Stone Door area – part of the South Cumberland Tennessee State Park. Kid #4 had been there several years on a Scout camping trip. I didn’t remember anything he said about it beyond the usual shenanigans, but I looked into it, and it seemed doable in our timeframe.

So Thursday night after boxing and a quick dinner, we set out – we drove to Winchester (birthplace of Dinah Shore, FWI – the daughter of Russian-Jewish immigrants who settled there and opened businesses, like so many others through the South) and stayed in a very nice Best Western for pretty cheap, thanks to $50 in credits we earned through staying in a BW in Sedona. I’m kind of impressed with the Best Western chain, and have been since we stayed in one in St. George, Utah a few years ago. Moderately priced, super clean, great value. Anyway, we got there around 10, went to bed, and rose around 7:30, checked out, and drove about an hour further east to the Great Stone Door trailhead.

And yah, we did the WHOLE THING. 8.7 miles, the most difficult part being, obviously, the elevation rise at the end. But you know, when your first stage takes you down-down-down to enjoy the lovely water features in the canyon (called “gulfs” in this area) – well, you have to eventually come up.

It was a good day. I think, though, that for the back part of the loop, we should have taken the shorter, Laurel Trail (the black dotted line north of the red trail markings). The Rim Trail is a mile longer and really doesn’t afford great views of what’s below. There are a few lookouts, but it’s so heavily wooded that you really can’t see anything except treetops. I could have used one less of a mile in my life today.

Wildlife seen? One bat. Which was interesting, seeing a bat out in the middle of the day. He must have been very thirsty, because that’s what he was doing – swooping down to the creek, over and over.

But I did it. Hiked about nine miles that is. And now we’re back, after a stop for dinner in Monteagle at this place. M said he would enjoy some catfish, and this seemed to be a good choice for that – it’s primarily barbecue and buffet, but they do feature catfish and M said it was excellent. I will say, though, that walking into this place and seeing huge, amazing looking chunks of smoked meat on a Friday in Lent was…well, it was penitential. As was the display of fried pies for those of us who’d given up dessert.

Oh well – think to next Friday! The solemnity of St. Joseph, and a legit reason to celebrate.

We then drove just a bit further west to Sewanee and the University of the South. Way back when I spent a bit of time there, and have a few other connections to the place. I’m sure M enjoyed my teachable moment history lecture on the role of the Episcopal Church among Southern elites from the Colonial period on. I had read Thursday night a stern warning on the school’s website that CAMPUS WAS CLOSED TO VISITORS, but of course we were able to just drive through – which is all I really wanted, although I would have like to go in the All Saints Chapel. We didn’t try, not only because I didn’t think it would be allowed and it was rainy but also because it did look as if there was something going on in there. Considering the time we drove by, I’m guessing it might have been Evening Prayer.

Then…back down the mountain on 24, catch 59 west of Chattanooga and speed home. Where I am now managing to type this for you.

(I had said yesterday I would try out the new Stories feature here – I’m too tired to mess with it. Sorry. Not sorry. Just normal photos. Click on images for larger versions.)