The Hough's Great Smoky Mountain Adventure, Pt. I

Seeing how it's Summer and everything, we Houghs deemed it necessary to have ourselves a good ol' fashioned Family Vacation.  Last year we did a short beach stint at Anna Maria Island, then before that a historical, pirate-themed getaway in St. Augustine, and then before that another beach vacation at Treasure Island.

This summer, we decided to abandon Florida all together in pursuit of something less beachy, less palm tree-y, and less mid-90s/100% humidity-y:  the Great Smoky Mountains.

(though it was still pretty damn hot out...)

Victors, the 2nd Annual Sausage Pad Keg Race, ca. 2003

Anyway, as some of you may or may not recall, back in my younger, kid-free, much, much cooler years, I co-founded an order of Dudeship and Awesomeness alongside a couple other similar-minded guys who were fond of drinking cheap beer, watching Star Wars, and breaking things.  We called ourselves the Sausage Pad ('cause you definitely wouldn't find too many ladies at our place back then), and after a booze-drenched dozen or so years, we still hang out together like a bunch of bitter old people too stubborn to get a divorce.

The infamous M-11 at Knollwood Apartments - birthplace of the Sausage Pad

Granted, most of us are now married with children, and we've all grown grayer, fatter, and more wrinkly over the last decade plus, but when given the opportunity to, we'll decrepitly rise to any occasion to rattle our sabers.

And so this summer, in the very heart of Appalachia, the Sausage Pad stirred from its slumber, packed up its wives and tax deductions into a convoy of mini-vans, and set off for the Smoky Mountain mecca that is Gatlinburg, Tennessee.  Smitty's girlfriend Rita diligently organized our motley tribe into staying four days and nights in a 9-bedroom log mansion overlooking the Pigeon Forge valley.  The plan was put into action shortly after Zack's wedding, back in November, and unlike several of our earlier far-fetched plans, this one came to fruition.

Fancy.

I had been attending a professional development workshop at the Orlando Convention Center all week, and the final day of the workshop concluded on the same day we were to depart for Tennessee.  While still able to get out by lunchtime, it didn't give Kris and I a whole hell of a lot of time to load up all of our packed bags into the van.  Fortunately, our last minute packing didn't lead to us forgetting anything super important.

. . .well, actually, now that I think about it, I did forget to pack my wireless, bluetooth mouse for my MacBook Pro.  That sucked.

Anyway, we had picked up the girls from Sunchild around 1pm and, after topping off the van, we set off out of Orlando for the long, boring drive through northern Florida and Georgia.

Check it out:

Filling up at 7-11 before setting out.  Already knee-deep in handheld electronics.

Kris, easing herself into the Captain's chair for 7 1/2 hours of rip-roaring family fun.

America, this is what 99% of Florida looks like.  I fully realize you all assume it's nothing but white sands, palm trees, and rodents with their own multi-billion-dollar corporations, but no.  This is Florida.  And - geographically speaking - it sucks.

I lived in Michigan for 25 years and never once saw this sign at a Rest Stop.

Welcome to Georgia - the Ohio of the South.

For the first few hours, Georgia was quite similar to Florida (geographically speaking) - flattish land, muggy air, vine-y trees overrun with Kudzu (or whatever the hell that rampant Japanese vine is called.)  Once you start getting into the northern part of the state, however, you start seeing 'hills,' which, to our kids (who have been brought up in America's Wang), is a pretty big deal.

Back on the road after stopping at a Chic-Fil-A in Tifton, GA.  Shortly after filling the van up, we saw that the fuel gauge wasn't responding - despite being full, it still displayed 'empty.'  Then the 'CHECK ENGINE' light came on the dash.  Which, obviously, is awesome when you're deep in the bowels of Georgia.

Entering Atlanta.  My God, I hate this city - I wish someone would burn it to the ground.  Oh wait. . .

Leaving Atlanta in our wake, the kids are still in pretty good spirits.  They did surprisingly awesome on this drive up.

After skipping the Atlanta bypass (the city traffic was pretty light, so we risked it), we stopped at a McDonald's for one last bathroom break before jumping on N-441, where we were told bathrooms were hard to come by.  We planned on staying at my friend BP's house, about an hour north of Atlanta in a small town called Flowery Branch.

Kris had a rott named Buford growing up.  This sign is disgusting.

We rolled into BP's around 9pm or so - not bad considering we left Orlando around 1:15pm, thereabouts.  (Usually I'd take a shit-load of pictures, hanging out with old college/high school friends and all, but we were all nearly-dead on our feet from the long drive, and were just sitting around his living room anyway.)

*                     *                      *

The next morning, Yours Truly got up around 5:30am -  a remarkable feat, really, seeing how I had gone to bed close to 1am.  Kris and the girls had slept on two inflatable mattresses in BP's office, while I got to stretch out on a fold-out couch all by myself.  Felt awesome.  After an hour or so, the rest of the house began getting up and around, as BP and Sam both had to work that day, so once Kris was showered and ready to roll she drove the van over to a local Autozone to have it looked over.

Fortunately, it was a loose wire - something along those lines, I don't know - which the guy there was nice enough to fix for free.  So, having showered and dressed the kids (and ourselves, as is the law), we said our farewells to the DeBoer family and set off for the last four-hour leg of our journey north.

The first mountain the girls have ever seen looms on the horizon...

This stretch, obviously, was much more scenic than the previous seven and a half hours we had spent on the road.  Within an hour or so we were crossing into North Carolina, where we were met with the rolling foothills of the Smoky Mountains.

Hooray.  North Carolina.

SMITTY!

Capt. GPS

Driving up into the Smoky Mountains

As we winded our way through the mountain roads of North Carolina's Smokies, we cut through the Cherokee Reservation - which, as you can imagine, is now filled with casinos and tacky souvenir strips.

Entering the National Park (I apologize for the blurriness - it was a last-minute, 'oh shit' sort of shot)

Driving through the Great Smoky Mountain National Park (somewhat more scenic than Orlando)

This main road (US 441) had only one lane going each way, but plenty of pull-off areas where folks could get out, take pictures, hike, or explore the surrounding forests and rivers.  We vowed to do this on our way back South.

It's probably a good thing that Kris was driving instead of me - I have horrible road rage and am easily stressed out driving in quasi-perilous conditions.

The girls were floored by the mountains, as they had never seen anything like them before (well, technically I suppose they had, driving up to Michigan for Christmases a few times, but they were so young they couldn't possibly remember.)

Tunnels were also a big hit with the kids.  We don't have them in Central Florida.

The rental office for our cabin was located in touristy Pigeon Forge, just north of the even more touristy Gatlinburg.  Fighting through this traffic was downright brutal - the main road reminded Kris and I of Orlando's infamous International Drive.

Here's this guy.

After a half an hour driving through Pigeon Forge, we finally reached the rental office, where - in a stroke of impeccable timing - we arrived at the same time as the rest of the Sausage Pad.  From there, we followed the caravan of mini-vans (that's Zack Smith's pictured above) back through the horrible traffic (which Alayna and Abby loved, by the way, after being cooped up in the car for so long) to our rental cabin in the mountains overlooking the city.

The Tennessee Lodge.  9 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms, 3 porches/decks, a couple of refrigerators and grills, washer and dryer, pool table, and hot tub.  We were very pleased with this cabin (although the ridiculously steep driveway up the mountain was terrifying.)  Our room is the three, front-left corner windows there on the second floor.

The view from the first floor deck.  We'll take it.

The first floor deck, as seen from the main living room door leading out to it.

The opposite view of the first floor deck, looking back towards what would eventually become the Beer Refrigerator, the smoking lounge, and the hot tub.

A battalion of mini-vans.  We've gotten really, really lame. . .

Another view of the valley below

Upon arrival, it was quickly determined that a group of adults should venture out to a nearby Kroger and round up food, drinks, and other household supplies that we would be needing for the next four days.  Kris accompanied Seloske, Smitty and Rita while the Smiths, Loftises, and myself stayed behind with our growing legion of children.

In total there were nine kids on hand, but it sure felt like ninety.

Shortly before our food-foraging team departed, we walked up and down the cabin's three floors, trying to divy up rooms.  In the end, I called dibs on the second floor's two-bed room that didn't have porch access (I don't trust my kids), but did have its own bathroom .  Only one room per floor had this, and the third story was ridiculously hot.)

Our room, upon arrival - I shoved the bed in the back against the wall so the kids could both sleep on it without rolling off the side.

The gaming room was on the main landing of the second floor.  I honestly thought it'd get more adult use, but this room became child headquarters right from the get-go.  At left is the door leading out to the second-floor deck.  The Seloskes took the other two rooms and the bathroom on this floor.

View into the second floor hallway from our room

The girls were captivated by the enormity of this cabin. This is from the first floor landing, just outside the kitchen, looking up at the second floor.

The first floor bathroom and bedrooms (only two on this floor, which the Loftis family took.)

This ground-level bathroom also contained the washer/dryer - which definitely came in handy.

The third floor.  Since there wasn't a game room or large living space on this floor, there were four bedrooms and a bathroom up here.  Two of the rooms had access to the third floor deck (which I never got around to using) and one had its own bathroom.

Another hallway on the third floor.  Zack's wife Renee has three somewhat older kids, so between their family of five they ended up taking three of the four rooms on this floor, with Smitty and Rita taking the remaining one.

One of the rooms on the third floor - I think belonging to two of Renee's kids.

Another third-floor bedroom.

This chair was extremely popular with everyone's kids.  It was not uncommon to see five kids piled up in this thing, with a sixth pushing it relentlessly in circles.

While the food foraging team was out at Kroger, Zack, Damon and I began grilling up the stacks and stacks of meat Damon had brought up. . .

Torching some charcoals

The grill on the right was burning a hell of a lot hotter than the other, so we threw on some steaks and in minutes those things were ready to devour.

After steaks and burgers, we threw on brats and hotdogs.  Countless animals were slaughtered to provide sustenance for this meal.

The Kroger Squad returns, bringing in a bounty of food, beer, and supplies.

That's Damon's son Logan at front left, with Seloske's kids - Jake and Isla - sitting behind him.  And, of course, mine.

Womenfolk, sitting around clucking.

The second floor deck, just outside the game room door.  The Seloskes' bedroom door can be seen towards the back.

Looking down at the first-floor side-deck (and legion of mini-vans) from the second floor.

Alayna looks out the second floor to the valley below

Mist gathering in the hills - I guess that's why they call these the 'Smoky' Mountains

Homeboys

Abby, spying

A bunch of old guys stand around and discuss plans for the weekend.  (The Sausage Pad, from left: Damon Loftis, Yours Truly, Zack Smith, and Matt "Smitty" Smith.)

SELFIES!

The valley at dusk (there was a string of cabins on the next hill over - thank God ours wasn't that close to any other cabin.)

Winding the girls down with some bedtime stories - both girls slept like rocks that first night.

Without warning, around 9:30pm, a huge firework show shot up over the valley.  We're guessing they were coming from Dollywood, but who knows.  We were sitting around drinking beer on the first floor deck, admiring the view, when out of nowhere fireworks began shooting up over the mountains.  Not that the view needed improving, of course, but who the hell wouldn't want fireworks off their back porch?  (I would've taken more pictures, but Kris took my camera away and told me to 'just admire it.')

Carrie (Damon's wife), Rita (Smitty's girlfriend), and some chick who obviously doesn't appreciate my photography skills.

Seloske brought up his N64 to use at the cabin (for nostalgia's sake, of course, as it was the system we played during our sophomore year in the dorms), and we all scrounged up some games to bring with.  Pictured here is another epic bout of 007 Goldeneye (at which I'm terrible.)

More to come - stay tuned.

- Brian