Dude, let's go tubin' !

When in the Smokies, do as the Smokians.
When in Deep Creek, do as the Deep Creekians.
When in Deep Creek, Smoky Mountain National Park, do as the tubers do.  Just a few miles away lies the border to The Great Smoky Mountain National Park and a place called Deep Creek.  It boasts a campground and what could be the "tubing" capital of the world, or at least Bryson City, NC.  Tubing you ask...this little girl epitomizes "tubin."

Yes, she has a little dog on her lap.  She matter of factly told us
he fell out once and she had to pull him back in (like how dare he).

Yesterday, as we were headed up the Deep Creek trail we came to hike, Deep Creek the stream  meandered out of the mountains in the opposite direction.  Tubing, a local classic we will try before we leave, has numerous vendors just outside the park renting the tubes that bring such simple pleasures for $3.  Although the water is very chilly,  the heat of the day warms you right up, and the tubes have a seat in them to keep you slightly elevated above the water to keep your tookus semi dry.  The little girl and her dog twirled and bobbed effortlessly down to her dad, that was resting next to a large boulder in the stream.

A little farther up the trail among a few fly fisher-people, we saw this solitary rhododendron just so we could share it with you...

As we neared our turn around time on the trail (30 min. out and 30 min. back), we rounded a bend in the path and saw this magnificent sight.  It look like it should belong in a national park!

It was so classic...really!

One final secret Deep Creek revealed was this bench.  So simple in design, yet so Frank Lloyd Wright (minus the flat roof) in its use.  Reminded me of a piece of art that oozed Art Nouveau, with a hint of Neo-Abstraction, and yet a touch of Post Impressionism.  

The bench model is not bad either...expensive though!
I could not afford her in the nude.

We finished our trail and with the morning behind us, we headed to Sequoyah National Golf Club.  Thanks to Golfnow.com, I got a cheap rate at an expensive course.  We arrived 30 minutes early to warm up a bit and were greeted by Tommy, the tee time starter and incidentally a Cherokee.  The course belonged to the Cherokee Tribe along with the rest of the city of Cherokee, casino, and other tourist attractions.  Tommy informed us they were running behind due to a morning tournament.  So in the meantime, Miki watched adoringly as I impressed her with hitting balls at the driving range, which I regret I did not photograph.  The area you hit off was in the neighborhood of some 100 (+/-) feet higher than the landing area below.  As the pictures will show, this course was literally cut into the mountains.  This was a mere tease of what was in store for us when we began play about 30 minutes later (foreshadowing) than the scheduled tee time.  Finally we were sent to the first tee, alone.  We saw foursome after foursome precede us, so we knew it would be a long round.  At the last moment, they added another single player, we'll call Ed.  We are calling him Ed because that was his name.  He was visiting also, from Virginia.

Ed is the one on the left, I am on the right,
in case you could not discern for yourself.
There is an elevated green behind Ed's head we were about to tee off towards
and the elevated tee in the opening to the right of my head for the next whole.

Ed is retired from the greenhouse growing business.  He could tell you stories about the business that would curl your nails, it was so interesting.  Really, he was good company and you could not find a better southern drawl, even better than mine...the real deal...really.  The front nine was fairly uneventful, except for fine shot after fine shot, after not so fine shot, after fine shot, etc...  At the "turn" (after the first nine holes) as we say, the play hit a Smoky Mountain and things got backed up big time.  We are talking 3 and 4 groups on a hole waiting in some cases.  Not to worry, I have Ed and Miki!  We persevered.  Here are some of the holes, but you really had to be there...

Fourteen holes and 5 hours into what should be a 4 hour round, we stopped persevering and left Ed in the good company of two grouchy hackers (sorry Ed).  In the following picture of the 15th hole, we were about half way down from the tee box on our way back to the club house when I snapped it.  The elevation drop on this particular hole must have been about 200 feet.  The cart paths were steep and designed as switchbacks all around the course, as though you were climbing 14ers in Colorado.

We finished the day with a delightful dinner with our friend and one of our whitewater paddling instructors, Bunny Johns.

This morning we met Bunny and her dog Max for a walk along the Nantahala River, where we learned to whitewater canoe.  After our dogs got along famously for 2 miles, we parted ways only to meet up again after lunch for a paddle on the Tuckasegee

Bunny and Miki

Miki and Me

Bunny, Miki, and Me
Photo taken by me in an over the water, one-handed (please lord don't let me drop this),
in a bar with friends kind of don't let anyone else take the picture kind of way.

We got off the river in time to get back to the trailer to see this coming at us from the west.

Once again, you had to be there to see it, but minutes later the blackness engulfed us. Winds, rain, thunder and lightning brought their wrath upon our souls, but then 20 minutes later the worst was over and it has been raining ever since.  You know the river that we back up to at the RV park...it is rising!!!  

Dude, let's go tubin' !