Escape from the Tourist Trap

Day 69: Monday, September 13, 2010

Drive from Kentucky to Tennessee

We had had fun in Kentucky, but we had to be pressing on. The drive from Kentucky into Tennessee was glorious. I tried to steal the dog pictured above. Although we did not get to see the full extent of the fields of rolling bluegrass in the Bluegrass State, we did notice the change into the rockier greener country of the Volunteer State.

Matthew had been watching the National Parks of America DVDs and consequently was greatly excited by the Great Smoky Mountains; I was less enthused. Part of me even dreaded the stop. We fear the unknown.

Not knowing anything about the area, we drove through Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg en route to a hopefully quiet and dark campground for the night. Now, I have been to Las Vegas (I have a hazy recollection of waiting outside a casino for hours as my grandmother gambled away my uncle's earnings), but these two towns were absolutely horrifying and, in my opinion, even worse. There were flashing lights, huge signs, gigantic amusement parks and tourist attractions up and down both sides of the highway. There was a huge replica of the Titanic at dock. There were dozens of roller coasters. Endless streams of shops. Inns, hotels, pools, dinner theaters. It was beyond garish. It was beyond depressing. It was vomit-inducing.

The sight just filled me up with sadness. Here in Tennessee lies an entire community, whose sole source of income is pandering to hapless, witless tourists that bumble through. It was every possible material item or experience you could want--and I wanted none of it. I wanted out.

Needless to say, the traffic was terrible, as only about ten percent of the drivers were even watching the road, so overwhelming were the neon lights.

There was even something horrifying called Dollywood, an amusement park dedicated to Dolly Parton, the blondest and bustiest of the busty blonds. Every night was a marathon performance by no less than seven Elvis impersonators in a hotel lounge. In my mind the most horrid was the commercial tourist attraction "JesusTown", or something to that effect, featuring life-size figures with creepy unfeeling faces. It gave sacrilegious a different meaning.

I was nothing short of relieved to make it through Pigeon Force and Gatlinburg with my brain intact. My faith in humanity, however, was ebbing.