Smoky Mountains Solitude
Having briefly passed through Asheville, we crossed the mountains into Tennessee. Daylight was fading fast and our fuel faster. Fuel light on, we found an exit and thankfully found a nearby gas stop. It had gotten pretty dark, and we weren’t going to make it to Knoxville tonight anyway, so we searched online for a nearby option where we could spend the night. The last few days it had seemed that all camping grounds on either side of the mountains were either fully booked or very expensive and usually both. But serendipitously, we had stopped less than a mile from a place called Foxfire Campgrounds, which – on the phone – turned out to have vacancies. Getting there, it turned out that we were actually the sole guests on the grounds, our only companion the beautiful soul that was Joan, the camp manager. Under a clear starry sky and huddled around a campfire on the riverbank, we shared life stories and adventures. When Joan turned 50, a couple of years back, she had decided that she would celebrate for 50 days, doing one “awesome” deed in each. These varied from helping stranded strangers on the highway all the way to spending a night in jail, and this brief blog-post will not do them justice. Suffice to say, we stayed an extra night at Foxfire, gained a friend and much insight, and moved on.