So it had been a minute, as they say. Actually it had been more like 50 years. I decided to go bike Cades Cove in the Great Smoky Mountains. Good news is that I made it. Less good news it was not without incident. But let’s back up to start.
My story with bicycles is not typical. I never had training wheels or someone holding me up as I learned to ride. I never had a ‘neighborhood’ in which to ride with friends. I never had someone ‘to teach’ me how to ride.
So when we moved up on the mountain outside of Gatlinburg my dad decided that there would be no bicycles. We lived 2.5 miles out of down that was mostly downhill, but also on a busy road. He didn’t want to have to go to town and pick up kids who had taken off on bikes. I was about 6 at the time. So there wasn’t a bike to begin with for me.
Once we were visiting some friends who lived near the high school. They had some bikes, so they and my older siblings thought we should go over there and ride. Mind you, I didn’t know a thing about bikes at the time. They told me just to turn the way the bike was leaning. The bike was too big for me honestly. I got on the bike and headed out and managed to keep myself upright. But the bike never leaned so I never turned and I ran straight off the parking lot into a deep ditch. Obviously I had not understood all the instructions.
I can vaguely remember others in school talking about riding their bikes and having a good time. I felt a little left out but I had not options at my disposal.
My dad had his office at the time in Williams’ Motel. The Williams were family friends. They had built a new three-story building with a parking garage as the lower level. They also rented bikes to the tourists in Gatlinburg. If you ‘ve been to Gatlinburg you know the traffic can be a mess—so a bike is a good way to get around.
So I asked about riding a bike when I got there once school was out. It was agreed I could do that, although I wouldn’t be riding one of the good bikes that could be rented. I was given the use of a 20” ‘Banana Bike’ as we called them in the day. I seem to recall that it had a gold-colored frame and a leopard print seat—no gears, coaster brakes. But it only had one handle-bar—on the left. Not exactly a great ride, but at least I could try.
So try I did. Learning to ride with no one assisting, but also no one watching. It was not the easiest thing to do. I swerved in and around the columns that held up the building. Eventually I got comfortable enough to where I would ride outside garage and in the outer parking lot. I fell plenty, but at some point I had learned to ride a bike. I achieved enough balance and confidence to pedal along proudly.
When I turned 14 I got a summer job as a bell-hop at the Rocky Waters motel on the north end of town. They, too, had a new three-story addition completed. But Otis Elevator Company had gone on strike. So I was toting luggage up and down steps. Made good tips. Hmmm! What to do now that I was a man of means?
My first check from work that summer went to buying my own bike. It was a Schwinn Varsity—10 speed and bright yellow. It was my transportation to get from one end of town where we had some shops and an apartment by this time to the other end where I worked. I became pretty adept at getting through traffic. I also used that bike on some trails back before the advent of the mountain bike. I’m sure that any possible violations of NPS regulations are now safely beyond the statute of limitations.
So my brother decided that he needed a bike too. He bought an Itoh 10 speed. And my sister Julie got a brown Schwinn as well. One day we packed them all in the VW microbus and headed out to ride Cades Cove. Mom was both our driver and support team. The exact date and timing of this expedition is lost to my memory.
This was before the Park decided to dedicate Wednesdays to bike and pedestrian traffic only. So we mounted our bikes at the start of the loop road and rode off with Mom following behind us.
It had rained a little bit and I remember the road being a bit wet. We weren’t too far in before we came to a downhill that entered a sharp curve. I took the curve with no problem. PD who was right behind did not fare as well. His bike slipped out from under him and he slid across the pavement and got a serious case of road rash on his left thigh. Julie, having seen the accident, stopped at the top of the hill. She put her bike in the VW and decided she was done for the day. Mom pulled down to a small pull off on the side of the road. Quickly someone else stopped who was in the medical field; they got PD fixed up a bit with some first aid cream. PD and I decided to ride on, although we cut across the valley and shortened the trip. A memorable ride for sure.
So all these years later I’ve gotten a used Trek 800 mountain bike. I’ve got a bike rack on the Hikermobile so that I can get places with it. I pick a beautiful day (although once again it had rained in the morning)_and headed to Cades Cove to ride it again.
I learned quickly that I don’t have ‘bike legs’ back at this point. Climbing hills was a challenge. Still learning again how to shift smoothly, but I was enjoying the views and having a fabulous time.
On a slight incline I have trouble trying to get down to first gear and suddenly my momentum and balance both stopped! It wasn’t a wreck, or a crash, it was more like “I didn’t stick the landing.” I went down and over. Scraped up my left knee and elbow. Laying there for a few when other riders come up to check on me; they ask if I need help getting up. I tell them that if I can’t get up on my own, then I’m in really serious trouble. I take a minute and collect myself. I get up and see that all limbs and parts are still in working order. I go ahead and ride up to the visitor’s center to take a break.
The rest of the trip is mostly uneventful. I have to get off and walk the bike several times, but I find those to be relaxing. In fact, I find that I’m seeing things that others might miss if they’re up to speed: a tree covered with a delightful variety of mosses and lichens, some lovely views back across the valley—the best was dozens of small butterflies by a rock where I had stopped for water and air.
I got back to the Hikermobile having done right at 9.99 miles according to my watch. May have missed starting the tech once or twice. I was scraped and bit sore, but also delighted to have ridden the Cove again. Now that the Park has reserved Wednesdays for just such experiences, I’m sure I’ll be doing it again. It was good to be back in the saddle again! (apologies to Gene Autry and Ray Whitley! IYKYK)
Character in the Making 