I am just not looking forward to go hiking again through the woods. And so I drive my car through the Smoky Mountain National Park. But this feels wrong. I read about the Smokies already before (Bill Bryson, A walk in the woods) and was actually looking forward to it. With 9 million visitors a year, this park is the most visited park in the USA, and also now in winter there are cars every where. This park you have to hike, to avoid people. And so on the way back, I drop by the back country office to obtain a shelter permit and drop my bike of at the top of the pass. Its seems like a very good idea: I walk up from the campground to the ridge, spend the night in a shelter, walk the ridge to the road and bike and cruise 14 miles down the road back to the Oto.
My neighbour D on the campground is in high spirit, knocking of all the mileages available in the park, and with lots and lots of wood he also has a new friend for the evening. The next morning I set off also in high spirit, the sun is out, the trail goes up and I get finally a bit of a feel for the trekking poles, I took out of the car last minute.
That night I have to share the shelter with some spring breakers on their first back country trip, and they even need me to finally get the fire going. They are fun company though and we talk until late in the night. The next morning we wake up with snow and its cold.
As its only 1 night I took barely any food and when I make an extra strong coffee and bake myself some pancakes not much is left. I am just a little bit worried about the snow, but the day will bring a trail on top of a ridge and with only 11 miles to go, I wave it away.
The trail is beautiful, the snow is still falling, but every time it clears up the views are amazing. The going is not too bad, and with my ‘happy to have now’ trekking poles, I make good time. 
Not aware of the major snow storm in years I am in, I keep going. The whole day the snow keeps falling and in the afternoon the temperatures drop. I am getting cold, the going goes slower and slower and many times I fall, not aware of the ice layers underneath the snow. And then I suddenly realize something. What seems liked a good idea might turn out to be a disaster. The snow is now almost 0.3 meter deep and there will be no way to take my bike down the road this way. For sure I have to spend another night out here in the snow. If the road won’t get plowed, which I have no clue about, I am up for a 14 mile walk down along the road and pick up my bike when ever the road is open again. But when would the road be open again? Do they plow this road? It might be blocked for the next coming weeks, months? Let’s keep it positive and first make it back to the road. If I am lucky there might be still cars driving and me and the bike can hitchhike back down.
When I make it to the road, I find my bike covered in snow. And jeh right, there is not a single car driving. This road is closed for sure. The snow is now 0.4 meter deep and I start worrying if I will be even able to walk down the road tomorrow. 
Also now I have to keep thinking positive. Worries for tomorrow, lets first find a place to sleep. I drag myself around through the snow for a while and find a shelter. I can hear a pump in the back of the shelter, and it seems indeed a little bit heated inside. Tonight I don’t have to share my shelter, and with 7 private restrooms, it’s not a bad place. 
Grosse, jeh I agree. But sometimes being warm is more important then anything else in the world. With no food left I go to bed on an empty stomach and sleep well after a day out in the snow. I wake up with new energy, there is no breakfast and instead I treat myself with some sugar in my coffee. Well the coffee you have to think with it. That’s gonna be a headache day for sure!
More snow has been falling and I will be plowing through 0.5 meters today. A long long long day is ahead of me for sure. When I finally dig myself out of the shelter and make it to the road I can’t believe my eyes. The road is plowed, its plowed in the direction I wane go, plowed! So I dig out the bike, clean it from snow as good as I can, and hit the road. Well road, its one big ice sheet, and my front break is frozen over and won’t work. The gear is also not functioning and I am scared and freaking cold. But it goes and slowly I make my way down, stopping every 0.5 km trying to warm up my feet and hands. The road is only down, and I have to hug my rear break to keep my speed in control. Stopping with a big backpack, frozen hands and feet is scary like hell, and I slide all over the road. When I make it to another stop in the middle of the road I suddenly hear a car coming up. A couple minutes later the plowing truck slides to a stop besides me. “You want a ride down”, K shouts. Hell jehhhh. The bike goes in the back and me in front with the heaters on full hot, blowing at me. Suddenly life is good again and all the sorrow forgotten already. Well that coffee still won’t be a bad idea.
Back at the campground D is now accompanied by his friends J and W, and started to worry a bit about me. Instead of the fire going they have a better idea and take me out for breakfast and finally a coffee. The rest of the day I hug their big fire and we share a hotdog meal in the evening. 
Jeh, the Smokies, I won’t forget them. And if you wonder how that day on the ridge emotional progressed. Here you go.
Dag,
Iris (Smokies, 27088 miles)
