Mike Graf - Great Smoky Mountains National Park: Ridge Runner Rescue

Text 2012 Mike Graf

Illustrations 2012 Marjorie Leggitt

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FalconGuides is an imprint of Globe Pequot Press.

Falcon, FalconGuides, and Outfit Your Mind are registered trademarks of Morris Book Publishing, LLC.

Photo credits:

Licensed by Shutterstock.com: Title page (all); 1; 3; 5: Kurdistan; 10; 12: Tim Mainiero; 13: BZ Photos; 14; 16-17; 21: Melinda Fawyer; 22; 23; 25; 29; 30: Betty Shelton; 38; 41: Jeffrey M. Frank; 46; 53: Tim Mainiero; 6263; 65: Jeff Kinsey; 66; 70; 71; 77: Tim Mainiero; 83; 86: Vahe Katrjyan; 89: Tim Mainiero; 90; 94 (inside back cover)

Mike Graf: 11; 24; 26; 31; 43; 54; 59; 70; 78; 79; 82; 88

Illustrations page 73 by Ann W. Douden

Map courtesy of National Park Service

Illustrations: Marjorie Leggitt

Models for twins: Amanda and Ben Frazier

Project editor: David Legere

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

ISBN 978-0-7627-8691-6

Printed in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Hi. Im Morgan Parker, writing to you from Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Our trip is nearly over, and I cant wait for you to read all about it. Its been quite an adventure.

Its early evening and were spending the last few minutes of our time here along a Quiet Walkway. Heres what the sign says about it:

A short walk on this easy trail offers close-up views, subtle aromas, and the serene quiet of the protected woodland. You will be walking one of the last great wildland areas in the East. But you wont need a backpack or hiking boots. Take your time. Have a seat on a rock or a log bench. This trail has no particular destination, so walk as far as you like and then return.

Thats just what were doing.

Mom is up ahead with her journal, sketching leaves. She really wants to remember the names of as many of the Smokies plants as possible. Thats quite a feat because there are so many of them. If I know Mom, she wont forget any of the butterflies and bugs either, like those macaroni-and-cheese-colored centipedes.

Dad is sitting on a bench. His clothes are coated in wet, gooey mud. Hes trying to ignore that and instead admire the scenery one last time. I know Dad is amazed at the geology here. He says the Appalachians are some of the worlds oldest mountains.

James is over by the river trying to find a few more salamanders. Weve seen loads of them and at least a dozen different types. But we still havent seen the giant waterdog. I think James is hoping for one last chance.

And me? Im thinking of the things Ill remember most about the Smokies. Like how I got sick while backpacking in the mountains, the women who refused to leave their home when this land was made into a park, the old historic buildings, the streams and waterfalls, and the Appalachian Trail, or AT Trail, as they say here.

But wait, Im getting ahead of myself.

Right now, above the gurgling, misty river several specks of light just flashed brightly.

When we first saw those we had no idea what they were.

And James just moved closer to the river. Hey, you guys, come here! he shouted.

I better go and see whats going on.

Morgan Parker

Dad unfolded the park map.

It looks like the quickest way out of town and into the Smokies is on this road, he pointed out.

Mom turned onto the side road. Immediately the road steepened. A dense canopy of trees shaded the remote highway.

Now it looks like were in a national park, James commented.

Were on the Roaring Fork Motor Nature Trail, Dad said.

The road climbed on. After a while Dad pulled the car over at a turnout, and they all piled out. They walked over to a clearing in the trees with views of the dense, hazy forest covering the rolling hills.

Morgan gazed out. Now I can see how the park got its name.

I think, Mom reflected, the parks natural blue smoke comes from moisture emitted by the plants.

But some of the haze we see here is also from air pollution, Dad added.

It looks like a jungle under all those trees, James said. I wonder whats out there.

Maybe its time we find out, Mom suggested.

After driving a short distance, the Parkers loaded up their gear for their first hike. Then they began sloshing up the wet, muddy path. The shadows of the bright green, lacy trees draped over the trail. Birds chirped in the forest. A nearby stream gurgled steadily as it cascaded down the canyon.

They hiked on. A group of hikers passed the Parkers on their way down. Theres a bear up there, one of the hikers warned.

Where? Mom asked.

About twenty minutes up the trail, the hiker replied. It was turning over rocks, looking for grubs when we went by.

Thanks, Dad said. Well keep our eyes out.

The Parkers climbed steadily up the rocky trail. Morgan and James scanned the forest as they walked.

Another group of hikers came down.

At least we got a glimpse of the bear, one of them said to their group.

But we didnt get to see a hellbender, another replied.

The hikers walked past.

Morgan stopped. Whats a hellbender?

Dad shrugged. Dont ask me, he replied with a puzzled look.

The Parkers hiked on, passing trickling wet gullies and small streams. A giant slug slowly crossed the trail.

Dad looked up through a clearing at a massive mountain across the way. I think thats Mount LeConte. Its one of the sixteen peaks over 6,000 feet in the Smokies. Well be perched up there soon enough.

Speaking of perched, Mom whispered, come here.

Morgan, James, and Dad joined Mom beside a small stream.

Mom pointed to a rock.

A salamander! James exclaimed.

James edged closer to the tiny creature. It quickly dashed under the rock. James looked back at his family.

Sorry, he said.

Our picnic view.

The Smokies are the salamander capital of the world, Mom said. I bet well see some more of them.

Ill keep looking, James announced.

The family hiked on. James and Morgan kept searching for salamanders, while Mom and Dad watched for the bear.