The town with two faces

In an earlier post, I predicted Pigeon Forge would be the capital of camp. After having spent several days there, I think I'm going to have to revise that statement. Pigeon Forge is not so much camp as it has a split personality. On the one hand, it is just as gaudy as you would expect, but on the other hand it has a quiet mountain mystique to it, one that makes you want to start saying things like "yew" as opposed to "you" and learn how to play the banjo.

When we first drove down Pigeon Forge's main strip, after briefly noticing the tall and imposing mountains that formed the backdrop to the town, we were immediately assaulted by an explosion of colors and sounds. There were brightly colored signs everywhere, advertising everything from "Fastest go-karts in town", and "Pure family fun! Tennessee Shindig dinner show" and "Tony Gore's Smokey BBQ and grill" to "The sexy store! We have it all!". Bungee-jumping contraptions alternated with a NASCAR museum, Elvis museums and souvenir stores advertising their wares in bright neon pink vied for your attention with several enormous Charles Dickens-esque Christmas stores. Besides wondering why people would want to stay in a Christmas Inn in July, I couldn't help but ask myself if people really drive from all over the eastern part of the US (and even further, if license plates were any indication) to spend a week in a town that could be best described as Panama City on speed. But people do, and judging by the fact that traffic is always backed up on the strip, many of them never venture far off that four-lane parkway.

But, and here's the crazy thing, all you need to do is take a turn off the main strip, and you're right in the middle of one of the most beautiful national parks of the US: The Great Smokey Mountains. Sure, you'll be driving along Dollywood Lane or the Dolly Parton Parkway, but you can't deny the fact that suddenly you see nothing but sloping hills, winding roads, and wooden cabins with the tall imposing smokies in the background. People all drive pick-up trucks, wave at strangers, and there are general stores selling everything from fish bait to chew tobacco on every intersection. You can tube down gentle rivers, walk on real swinging bridges and explore endless trails that lead into the mountains. At night the sky is full of fireflies, and when you sit in your rocking chair on your front porch, all you hear are the crickets and the wings of the bats flying overhead.

The contradiction between these two parts is absolutely mind-boggling. What's even more amazing is that many people never venture into what I would consider the "real" Smokey Mountains. But, for those of you who know me and my critical little soul, I am actually not going to bash the crass commercialization that is the strip in Pigeon Forge. Sure, I wish it looked a little nicer. Well, actually, I wish someone would tear down the existing strip and then rebuild it so it actually blends in with the original very picturesque town, forbid any signs with lights, outlaw the presence of more than one Ripley's believe it or not! attraction, and then punish the person who allowed such ugliness to occur. But other than that, I'm sort of OK with there being go-kart tracks and fairground attractions in the middle of so much beauty. Having two children will do that to your principles. I mean, they can only take so much silence, trees, and beautiful countryside, and will only spend so much time catching fireflies. So I was actually grateful that we could alternate "adult" stuff like sitting on the front porch of our cabin with "kid-friendly" stuff such as riding go-karts. I think because Pigeon Forge is so two-faced, every single family member actually managed to enjoy every single day there, which, as far as I, or any mom, is concerned, is a blessing.

Coming up next: Dolly Parton - the phenomenon or why she has always looked forty!