I used to make the drive from Fort Bragg, N.C. to Middle Tennessee in a day. Soldiers hunger for home, and the 11-hour drive was not all that taxing for a young enlisted man who missed his family and friends.
Fatigue usually set in when I reached Western North Carolina. Luckily, the mountains always energized me. I’d stop in Swannanoa, Black Mountain or Asheville to stretch my legs, fuel up and get a snack. I’d cross into Tennessee early in the morning and wonder what it would be like to live in the mountains that straddled the Tennessee-North Carolina line.
Now I live in Maryville, which is between Knoxville and Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It’s a good place, and I suppose that’s what this blog is about: the good life in the foothills of the Smokies and my trips east into the mountains.