Can it really be our last day in the Smokies?  Like all good things, it can’t go on forever.  We sat around planning our hikes and activities for the last day.  Rich decided he wanted to see one more corner of the park.  We use the last of our goodies to fix breakfast and then pack up to go to Cosby.

First, we have to have gas.  I pull in the Shell station to find that everyone else in Gatlinburg needs gas.  I pull around to an empty pump at the same time that a motorcycle comes into the station.  I want that pump!  I pull forward, which blocks him from getting to the pump easily.  I stare him down and he moves on.  I pull up and jump out.  Darn, I forgot my credit card.  Guess Rich will have to pay.  We top off the tank, clean the windows, and head out for the day.

We take the Rt 321 out of Gatlinburg and head north.  As we approach our first stop, we see a full-sized bear run across the road behind another car.  That’s the third bear we saw this trip.

The road takes us around the rim of the park on the northeast side.  We turn into the entrance to Ramsey Cascades.  The road winds around beside the Little Pigeon River and through a forest.  We arrive at the area where the creek comes down from Ramsey Cascades.  The water pours down over the rocks and gushes out into the river.  It is a beautiful white water effect.  We take a few pictures here.

We drive up the road as far as it takes us.  The parking lot there has a few cars in it.  We park, suit up with our packs, and head down the service road that is the first part of the trail.  We take the branch to the left and it quickly becomes a dirt path with roots.  This is the Porter Trail that runs up to the backcountry campground.  About 1.8 miles into the trail is the Fern Falls.  We aren’t going the full path up to the campground.  Or that was the original plan

The trail starts out pretty good.  It has some up and downs with some rocks and roots.  Then we come to the bridge.  This is the longest log bridge in the entire park.  Rich thinks it is about 30 feet long.  It’s also about 15 feet over the raging Little Pigeon River.  I’m afraid of heights and it is enough to scare me.  Rich goes over the bridge without looking back.  Now he waits expecting me to waltz over the logs.  I start over, but I go slowly, one step at a time and stop along the way.  I make it over in about 10 minutes.

The trail leaves the river and starts climbing up the mountain.  It is full of rocks and very narrow.  I start whining about now.  I’m not sure I can really make it up the hill.  My legs are tired.  But hey, I ‘m not huffing and puffing yet.  OK, I might make it.

We continue to climb and climb.  We cross a small creek.  We march on.  Around the corner of the mountain, we run into three young guys coming down from the campground. Each of them carries a large amount of equipment for a couple of days up there.  Rich asks if they saw Fern Falls up ahead.  They say they didn’t run into anything.

Rich and one of the guys look over the map to try and pinpoint where it might be.  I ask one of the guys about their trip to the campground.  He tells me about the storm from last night.  I forgot about that.  They apparently had a tarp over their tents and just hunker down for the night.  They seem fairly dry now.  He tells me they are moving locations and heading down to another backcountry campground.  Brave is all I can think.

We determine that the falls were actually back at the stream that we crossed back down the path.  I knew I was going too far!  We go back the .1 miles to the creek.  As we approached the creek, we could hear the falls.  I didn’t hear them from the other side of the creek.

Fern Falls are a beautiful bridal falls that comes down from the mountain and fills the creek.  We take quite a few pictures.  I rest on the quiet side of the creek.  How can you not hear it from this side?  It still amazes me that it’s quiet.

Now it’s time to head back down the mountain.  We run into a group of four people on their way to the falls.  We stop them and explain to look left when you get to the creek or you’ll miss it.  They laugh.  I explain that the falls are quiet from this side.

We continue down the trail and meet people all along the way.  It was so quiet with no one on the way up.  Then we arrive at the log bridge again.  Oh my gosh, I must go back across it.  I give Rich my hiking stick and then I have both hands free to walk back.  It’s easier this time and I can look up and not concentrate on my feet.

We meet a couple of ladies at the bridge.  They ask us to warn the older lady that we will meet later about the bridge and that they advise her to wait at the bridge and not to cross it.  We convey this information when we meet up with the lady and the gentleman helping up the trail.  We talk for a few minutes and then get back underway.

Along the way, I see a snake on the trail all stretched out in the sun.  Rich walks right by it.  It does look like a stick.  The head appears strange and I’m thinking someone put a hiking stick on its head.  I poke it with my stick and the snake coils up, ready to strike.  It’s so small, so I don’t think he can really do any harm.

We go down the trail to the car.  From here, we head to the picnic area and have our lunch.  After lunch, we drive back down to the main road and drive out to Cosby.  This entrance to the park is small.  There is a picnic area, campground, and a nature trail.  The trail is .7 miles that winds around three or four creeks that converge in the area.  It’s like a rain forest that had been a settlement of two or three cabins.  We read the pamphlet about the area and continued to walk the trail.  It is nice and cool in the forest.  We cross a log bridge and I see a guy down the stream fly fishing.  How cool.

By this time, I’m tired.  Time to go to the car and drive back to the cabin.  Rich lets me stop at a woodcarving shop to look at bear statues.  I really want one, but not for the price.  Oh well, I did get to look.

We go back to the cabin and shower.  Dinner tonight is at the Smoky Mountain Trout House again.  It was really good and I know what I’m getting.  We arrive and find we are the second couple there.  Remember, there are only 10 or 12 tables.  If you don’t arrive early, you have to wait.

Mary, our waitress from the other night, looks surprised to see us back.  I don’t why.  The food is good.  Rich orders the Dilly Trout and I order the Eisenhower Trout.  Both are great.  We enjoyed our dinner.  I highly recommend this place if you are in Gatlinburg

It’s time to go back to the cabin and pack.  We get everything together and have it all ready to move to the car in the morning.  We happen to step out on the porch just as the sunset is shining over the mountain and lighting up the clouds with a rosy glow.  It’s beautiful, but only lasts a few minutes.  We’ve probably missed this over the week that we’ve been here.  Darn!

We decide to look up the snake that we saw.  It comes out pretty quickly that we saw a Dekay’s Brown snake.  The marking on the head is one of its trademarks.  It’s not poisonous either.  Then, it’s time for bed.

So during our week in the park, we have the following animal count:

3 bears

1 coyote

1 doe and her fawn

4 wild turkeys

1 yellow frog

1 Dekay’s Brown Snake

Handful of squirrels

More birds than we can count