Great Smokey Mountains National Park

Gatlinburg, Tennesse

The drive from Raton, New Mexico to Oklahoma City was one of those long, flat stretches where the horizon barely moves—mile after mile of cow pens, windmills, and open ranchland. After six or seven hours, we pulled into a Comfort Inn and decided to treat ourselves. Alan agreed to a “fancy” dinner, and The Ranch delivered—perfectly grilled steaks, baked potatoes and a toast to our success.

The next morning, somewhere halfway through Arkansas, Alan surprised me.

“Let’s spend two nights in the Smokies,” he said.
It was music to my ears.

We powered east—seven, maybe eight hours—to Jackson, Tennessee, where we collapsed for the night at the Best Western. By sunrise, we were back on the road, climbing into the misty blue folds of Great Smoky Mountains National Park. We set up camp at Cades Cove Campground, surrounded by the scent of pine and the soft rush of the creek. There’s nothing quite like living in the landscape for a night—stars overhead, Kodi curled up by the fire, and the hush of the mountains all around.

Before dawn, we joined the early risers lined up for the Cades Cove Loop, the park’s famous 11-mile scenic drive. Morning fog drifted through the meadows, and deer grazed quietly near the road. Then—finally—the moment I’d been waiting for: a black bear and her two cubs crossing a field, wild and unbothered. It felt like a blessing, a perfect sendoff from the wild.

We stopped next at Sugarlands Visitor Center, where a ranger pointed out on the live cam that Clingmans Dome was completely fogged in.

“If you want a view today,” she said, “try Look Rock Tower.”
She was right. From the top, we saw smoke rising in soft blue layers across the mountains—the Smokies living up to their name. The leaves were just turning red and gold, and since it was quiet and remote, Kodi got a rare chance to run off-leash in the autumn air.

Our final stop was the Grotto Falls Trail, part of the Roaring Fork Motor Nature Trail. The short hike led us to the only waterfall in the park you can actually walk behind. Standing there, cool mist on my face, I felt an overwhelming sense of closure.

This was the perfect finale to our 2025 Pacific Northwest Road Trip—from the alpine lakes of Glacier National Park, through the wilds of Canada, down the coasts of Washington, Oregon, and California, and across the great deserts of the Southwest. We’d chased sunrises and storms, climbed mesas and mountains, met strangers who became stories, and somehow brought it all home again.

I looked over at Alan and Kodi—my road companions, my anchors—and thought, We really did it all.