Ruralite Cafe: Published 06/27/02

By Lynn Hotaling - Associate Editor

Returning to Russell Field

Our 1972 trek along the Appalachian Trail from Clingman's Dome to Fontana Dam was sidetracked by a less-than-happy camper desperate to return to civilization; our 2002 attempt to at least make it back to where we left the AT was derailed by dinner responsibilities back at the campsite.

When we set out 30 years ago with our friend Phyllis for a five-day wilderness experience, we didn't know much about hiking and even less about backpacking. To call us "novices" would be giving us way too much credit. Our packs were too heavy as were our sleeping bags. Dona's cheap hiking boots hurt her feet so much she tied them to her backpack two hours out and finished our journey in the sort of red-flowered flip-flops we used to buy for 49 cents.

Phyllis's troubles began with her too-weighty pack, intensified through the blisters that quickly covered both feet, and peaked with the rambunctious bear that rattled the Spence Field shelter gates all through our third night on the trail.

Shortly after we hit the trail the fourth morning, Phyllis came upon the sign that literally changed the state of our destination. At Russell Field, the weather worn Park Service marker's cryptic message - Cades Cove 5.2 miles; Fontana Dam 11.8 miles - provided a beacon toward escape from her misery.

"Cades Cove. I've heard of that. There's a campground there. That's where I'm going," Phyllis said.

And she lit out down the mountain in search of running water and junk food.

Dona determined Phyllis was "too crazy" for a solo return to civilization and someone would have to accompany her. Next she decreed it would not be safe for either of us to press on alone. Pretty soon we were following Phyllis toward the bright lights, telephones and paved roads.

Dona and I were back at Cades Cove Friday, and she decided to find the place where we had entered the campground on that long-ago June morning. After a few minutes we were standing in front of another Park Service sign that indicated it was 5.2 miles to Russell Field.

At that point we decided to retrace our steps the next afternoon - assuming we had enough energy after our 11-mile morning bicycle ride around the Cove's loop road.

The two of us, accompanied by our friends and fellow campers Barbara and Tonya, were on the trail back to the AT by noon Saturday. Unlike Phyllis, our 2002 partners appeared to relish being in the back country and seemed just as disappointed as Dona and I when we had to turn back barely a mile from of our goal.

We knew a lot more about the territory we were passing through the second time around. I had read in the Cades Cove guidebook about how the valley's early settlers had taken their cattle up the high fields to the south for summer pasture. Both Russell Field and nearby Spence Fields are named for early cove dwellers.

Cades Cove itself is a delightful place, with its expansive fields and rustic homes and farm buildings. The long valley was more inviting than ever under Friday's almost-full moon and Saturday morning's clear blue skies.

While Dona and I are not sorry we got sidetracked and "discovered" Cades Cove back in 1972, I think we both regret not finishing our planned trip to Fontana - we know our chances of ever doing so dwindle with each passing year.

But Saturday, as we paused for Tonya to take a picture of us by one of those Park Service signs, it was enough just to be back on the trail.

Back to Archive: 06/27/02.