This morning, we woke to an unbelievable view.
The fog resting on the sides of the surrounding mountains really allowed us to understand why these mountains were named as they were.
Along with the fog, there was a steady rain. What do you do when it’s raining in the Smokey Mountains? You go up and over and around the mountains (in a car that has only known Florida flat), hearing distant banjo music in your head, and Mom screaming every time we hit a curve. Which was every 5 seconds. She insists she wasn’t screaming, though there is a minor dent in the floor board by her feet where she was pushing the “Mom break”. I’m just glad she wasn’t using the Mom Arm seatbelt. Luckily, we made it without any major issues to the Harrah’s Cherokee Casino and Resort and spent a few hours feeding the one armed bandits. We didn’t loose our shirts, but we left a small donation.
Tomorrow, its still supposed to be rainy and what I consider cold (in the 60’s..brrr), so we’re going to go get our zen on in a salt cave in downtown Asheville. Oooommmm.