Eventually they approached the final ascent. Trees alongside the trail were stunted and moss-covered. The Parkers held on to the cables and pulled themselves up as the rain started pelting down harder.

  They reached the top of the trail. “Let’s hurry to the lodge and check in,” Mom suggested as she sloshed through a puddle.

  Up ahead was a series of rustic wooden cabins.

  Morgan, James, Mom, and Dad walked up some stairs and into the lodge’s office.

  Dad told a woman behind the counter about their reservation. After checking the Parkers in, she looked at the rain pouring down outside. “It looks like you got here just in time,” the woman commented.

  WILDFLOWER NATIONAL PARK

  More than 1,500 species of flowering plants grow in the Smokies. Because of that, some people have nicknamed the park Wildflower National Park. From mid-April to mid-May, spring wildflowers such as columbine, trillium, and lady slipper orchids bloom in forests before the trees grow leaves and shade the forest floor. From mid-June to mid-July, beautiful displays of mountain laurel, rhododendron, and azalea are common, especially at higher elevations. The Smokies has annual guided wildflower walks and talks every spring.

  The Parkers hurried to their cabin. It was a small room with two double-sized bunk beds covered with colorful woolen blankets. There was a desk next to the bed, with a lamp on it.

  Mom looked at the rustic surroundings. “It’s quite charming in here.”

  Dad plopped down on the lower bed and fished through his day pack. He pulled out his book and listened to the rain’s steady drone on the roof. “I guess the weather is telling us what we’re going to do for the rest of the day.”

  James climbed onto the upper bed, and Morgan followed him.

  Mom lay down next to Dad. “How about hearing another page from Great-Grandpa’s journal?” she suggested.

  “Can you read another page about the Walker sisters?” Morgan asked.

  Mom thumbed through her grandfather’s journal. “Here’s one.”

  September 2, 1940

  Max Davis here:

  It seems that the only chance I get to write is on a day off work. Well, today was one of those days, and I witnessed history.

  Franklin Delano Roosevelt, our 32nd president, gave a speech at Newfound Gap, right next to the Appalachian Trail I’ve been working on. In his speech, he dedicated the park to all people now and in the future. It was a grand occasion, and thousands of people were there to witness the event.

  This certainly is a great national park. Just the AT itself is worth seeing. By the time I’m finished here, we’ll have helped establish seventy miles of incredible hiking in the park.

  My buddies from camp and I have visited the Walker sisters several times now. They are some of the only people left in the area now that it’s a national park. And it’s quite a home they’re living in. News paper and magazine clippings are all over the walls and all kinds of objects are stored on shelves and hanging from nails hammered into the wooden ceiling.

  They also have a beautiful garden with fruit trees and vegetables. There were a couple of rabbits running around out there. Margaret shooed them away and even threatened that she would get the rifle if they came back. I guess the rabbits are eating out of the garden.

  They showed us this wooden storage structure they built right over some water that was diverted from the creek. The water keeps things cool and fresh, just like an icebox.

  Anyway, Freckles asked Louisa if he could use the bathroom. Well, Louisa got all red in the face and giggled and said something that surprised us all.

  “There is no bathroom.” Then Louisa nodded and pointed to the woods.

  Freckles walked sheepishly into the forest, out of sight, just like the Walker sisters do.

  Anyway, I shall close for today.

  More from the Smokies soon,

  Max Davis

  Later that afternoon, Mom got up. “Does anyone want to go check out the lodge?”

  Morgan got out of bed and scratched the back of her head. “That sounds good to me.”

  The family put on their rain parkas and walked over to the office. Once inside, they looked around at the displays on the walls. Dad found the precipitation totals on Mount LeConte. “Let’s see,” he said, “this chart shows moisture received each year: 75 inches, 77, 80, 92, 100, and 62. That’s quite a lot of rain and snow!”

  James found an article on a famous LeConte climber. “Ed Wright made his 1,281st trip up here in 2004. And he was seventy-eight years old!” he announced.

  Mom looked at Morgan and James. “Well, you two have only 1,280 trips left to catch him, and sixty-eight years to do it!”

  Morgan smiled. “That’s if he hasn’t climbed up here since then.”

  James did some quick math in his head. “If Morgan and I climb Mount LeConte twenty times a year for the next seventy years, we’ll each have been up here 1,400 times.”

  Dad laughed. “Keep me informed on your progress, would you?”

  Morgan studied a map on the wall, then turned toward her family. “These tacks show where Mount LeConte visitors have come from.” She started naming some of the places marked by tacks. “New York, Phoenix, Los Angeles …”

  The rest of the family joined Morgan. “None from San Luis Obispo, California,” James realized.

  “Until now,” Dad said. He pulled a spare tack from the wall and handed it to Morgan.

  Morgan took the tack and pushed it in on San Luis Obispo. “Now we’re on the board too,” she said proudly.

  Mom glanced out the window. “I think it stopped raining.”

  “We can head out to see the sunset,” Dad suggested.

  They grabbed their belongings and splashed up the trail to the cliff tops.

  Other visitors were also at Mount LeConte’s viewpoint, watching the hazy sun sink behind distant, rounded mountains.

  The family looked out at the view. “I can see our trail way down there,” James announced.

  Then the Parkers heard the sound of a rotating motor approaching.

  A helicopter appeared out of the fog. It hovered a short distance away from Mount LeConte’s summit.

  “It looks like it’s trying to land,” Morgan said.

  A moment later the helicopter maneuvered closer to the ground until it was out of sight behind some trees.

  “I can still hear it,” James reported.

  “I wonder what it’s doing up here,” Morgan pondered.

  A big, dark cloud drifted overhead. Quickly the top of Mount LeConte was enveloped in an eerie, wet mist. Even some of the treetops faded away into the fog.

  The helicopter sounded like it was lifting. Quickly it was above the trees again. “There it is!” James called out.

  Then lightning flickered. It was instantly followed by cracking, booming thunder. The helicopter flew away and disappeared into the clouds.

  “Time to head back!” Mom announced.

  The Parkers dashed down the wet trail. Rain started pelting down and soon turned to hail. Pea-sized balls of ice bounced all around and started to accumulate.

  By the time they reached their cabin, ice completely covered the ground. Morgan, James, Mom, and Dad hurried inside. They hung up their wet clothes, and Mom lit the kerosene lamp.

  Dad turned the propane heater up. “There’s no place like home,” he said.

  Soon Morgan and James were in bed reading while rain and hail pelted down loudly on the cabin’s roof. Mom leaned her head next to Dad’s. “It’s quite a ruckus out there,” she said, “but we all look so comfortable in here!”

  Morgan sat up and scratched the back of her head. She felt around her neck and hair. “Yuck!” Morgan yelped. “I can feel something crawling on me, but I can’t get it off!”

  Dad hopped up. “Where?”

  Morgan moved her hand away. “I see it,” Dad announced.

  “What is it?” Morgan asked nervously.

  “A tick,” Dad responded, “near the base of your neck.”

  Mom rushed over. “A tick?”

  Morgan climbed down from the bed.

  Dad got a napkin and slowly moved in on the tick. “Hold still,” he directed Morgan.

  “I can still feel it moving!” Morgan squealed.

  “Not for long,” Dad said. He zeroed in further and squeezed the napkin around the tick. Dad held the tick out for Morgan and the rest of the family to see.

  The green-and-brown-spotted insect was upside down with its juices squeezed out. Its legs still kicked around slowly. “Eeew,” Morgan squeaked. “That thing was on me?”

  “And it’s still alive,” James informed her.

  Dad crushed the tick.

  Mom moved Morgan’s hair around and got a good look at Morgan’s head and neck. “All gone,” she said. “But I’m going to clean that area with antiseptic, okay?”

  The Parkers began checking themselves for ticks. James found one on his sock. Dad got rid of one on his pants. They inspected each other’s hair and clothing. “I think we’re all clear for now,” Dad announced.

  4

  Dad straddled his bicycle while looking at Mom, Morgan, and James. “Is everyone ready?”

  “Ready!” the rest of the family replied.

  The Parkers peddled away from the bike rental shop and headed toward Cades Cove. They made a quick left turn and entered the historic eleven-mile stretch of road.

  “It’s great to be out here when no cars are allowed,” Morgan commented.

  They quickly came to a view of all of Cades Cove.

  “Now I know why this place is so popular,” Mom said. “It’s beautiful.”

  James walked up to the barbed wire fence separating the Parkers from the fields and meadows.

  “I wonder,” James thought out loud, “if this fence is to keep the wildlife in, or us out?”

  Dad laughed. “Speaking of wildlife, do you see what’s out there?”

  Morgan, James, and Mom scanned the fields. “Over there,” Morgan pointed. “A wild turkey.”

  “One of several,” Dad said. “There are two more that way.”

  The Parkers rode on and quickly came to a short path leading to the Oliver Cabin. They leaned their bikes on a fence and walked up to the picturesque old home.

  James read the information sign. “This home was built in the 1820s,” he called out. “It’s one of the oldest homes in the park.”

  “It sure is in good shape, then,” Mom said.

  The Parkers walked around the log cabin. They went inside and examined the first floor before climbing up to the loft. Then they went back outside. “This is quite a house,” Morgan said while holding onto one of the wooden poles supporting the cabin’s porch roof.

  They walked back to their bikes and pedaled along farther. The road was mostly flat but dipped up and down some small rolling hills. “Wait up!” Morgan called out while huffing her way up a hill.

  Dad stopped for Morgan. “These one-speed bikes are difficult to pedal, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” Morgan said between breaths.

  The Parkers passed an old church with a cemetery next to it. A few minutes later, they stopped at another clearing.

  Morgan pointed. “Hey, look! There’s four deer out there!”

  “That makes four deer and three wild turkeys,” James said.

  Mom laughed. “And no salamanders today.”

  A few minutes later, the Parkers stopped at a side road. “I wonder what that’s for?” Morgan said.

  James looked at his map. “I think that’s where the Abrams Falls Trail is. Can we go?”

  “Absolutely,” Mom answered. “But I think it’s best to drive out here later so we don’t get caught on our bikes in traffic.”

  Mom looked at her watch. “It’s almost 9:30,” she announced. “In thirty minutes they open the road to cars.”

  “And we’re not even halfway done yet,” James added.

  “Better get a move on, then,” Dad said.

  Morgan, James, Mom, and Dad kept riding. They stopped briefly at the visitor center to mill around. Mom bought a book on Great Smoky Mountains history. The family finished the rest of the loop just as several cars caught up to them.

  A herd of deer was grazing on the lawn next to the bike shop. “Hey,” James called out, “we didn’t even have to go into Cades Cove to see wildlife.”

  “But I’m glad we did,” Dad responded.

  The Parkers returned their bikes and had lunch at their nearby campsite. Morgan lay down in the tent after lunch. I’ve got a stomachache, she realized, and I feel weak.

  Mom peeked in a bit later. “Are you ready for the hike up to Abrams Falls, honey?”

  Morgan took a deep breath and slowly sat up. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  The Parkers drove back into Cades Cove and pulled into the Abrams Falls parking lot.

  Morgan, James, Mom, and Dad tromped along the wet, rocky trail.

  Dad looked up at the darkening sky. “I think it’s just about to rain again.”

  They put on their parkas just as the rain hit. “The climate is so fickle here,” Mom commented. “From one minute to the next, it’s always changing.”

  Dad smiled. “That reminds me of an old saying about the weather in New England: ‘If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.’”

  “That means,” Morgan added, “that it probably won’t be raining in a minute.”

  “Probably so,” Mom agreed.

  They tramped through the rain, splashing in and around puddles. James kept searching for salamanders in nearby seeps and small streams.

  All of a sudden it got really dark. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

  A beautiful waterfall.

  Then the clouds let loose. Rain poured down on the Parkers, but they hiked on anyway.

  A few minutes later, the rain did let up. The sky brightened, and the sun tried to peek through the clouds. Then the rain completely stopped.

  “It’s too warm for these now,” Mom said while shedding her parka. Morgan, James, and Dad took theirs off too.

  The Parkers turned a bend on the trail. Straight ahead of them was a wide, multitiered cascade of water tumbling turbulently into a large pool.

  “Abrams Falls!” Dad announced.

  The Parkers walked closer to the falls. Along the way they passed an isolated pool of water.

  James bent down to inspect the pool more closely. “You guys, come look at these!”

  Hundreds of pollywogs were swimming around in the stagnant water.

  “One of the many life-forms in the Smokies,” Mom remarked. “A bunch of them already have legs,” she observed. “They’ll be metamorphosing into frogs soon.”

  By now, the cool, wet weather had turned warm and humid. Even the rocks were dry enough to sit on, so the family sat down near the falls. Dad looked around at their surroundings. “Do you know the Cherokee legend about this place?”

  “What?” James asked.

  “It goes something like this,” Dad began. “A buzzard was flying over the area for a long time. It got tired of flying, and its wings dropped down and touched the ground, forming valleys. When its wings came up, they formed the mountains.”

  “Well, it sure is pretty here,” Morgan said. Then she looked at her family. “How about a group picture?”

  Morgan lined everyone up so that the falls were behind them. She placed her camera on a rock and set the automatic timer. Morgan clambered over to join her family just as the camera clicked.

  Morgan showed the picture to James, Mom, and Dad.

  Suddenly, thunder rumbled in the distance. “It looks like our little picnic is just about over,” Dad called out.

  The family packed up and put their parkas back on just as the rain started coming down. Then they began their two-and-a-half-mile walk back to the car.

  5

  The Parkers were on a long drive from Cades Cove to Cataloochee.

  Mom was driving.

  “I think I’ll write in my journal now,” James announced.

  This is James Parker reporting.

  We are in Great Smoky Mountains National Park—the largest national park in the United States east of the Mississippi River. There are no entrance stations at this park. That’s because the people of North Carolina and Tennessee who donated the land wanted it to be free for people to enjoy forever.

  We’ve seen a bunch of salamanders. If you ever come here, just hang out by a small creek or stream, be still, and keep looking around. I almost guarantee you’ll see one. A type of salamander we haven’t seen is the hellbender. When I first heard that name, I didn’t know what it was. We found out that it is the largest salamander in the park and grows over two feet long!

  We just stopped at Oconaluftee Visitor Center to see the Mountain Farm Museum and Mingus Mill. They started grinding corn at the mill in 1886, and they still do it today. The mill was also one of the first buildings the CCC helped restore in the park. Now there are volunteers working there to teach people like us how it works. Because of that, we got a good idea of how the early settlers prepared food around here. Dad even bought a Smokies recipe book for us to try out at home. Mmmm…

  Anyway, I know I’ll have much more to report soon from the Smokies!

  Sincerely,

  James Parker

  Dad heard James close his journal. He turned back to look at the twins. “I just found another entry about the Walker sisters,” he reported. “Do you want to hear it?”

  “Yes!” Mom, James, and Morgan answered eagerly.

  July 22, 1938

  Max Davis here:

  Guess what I did again today? I visited what is nicknamed Five Sisters Cove, where the Walker sisters live.

  I learned that several years ago, there were six of them there. But in 1931, Nancy died because of asthma and breathing problems that she had dealt with all her life. Life out in the woods can’t be easy.

 

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