Today was sunny and very warm.
Joanne thinks this is the most upsetting day of our 22 months of travel so far. We had a very close call today, luckily avoiding a serious vehicle accident, and injury. And we were saddled with a huge, and in my opinion, unnecessary towing bill because of a questionable judgement call by some unknown, petty bureaucrat, and a lack of co-ordination and communication amongst park staff.
This morning we left Elkmont Campground on the north / Tennessee side of Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and headed for Stonemont Campground on the south / North Carolina side of the national park. We drove through the park on the main north / south route, Hwy. 441. This road climbs for about 14 miles to an elevation over 5000 feet. The border between Tennessee and North Carolina is at the summit, called Newfound Gap, and then it descends for about another 14 miles or so. Also at the summit is the turn off to Clingmans Dome, at an elevation over 6600 feet, the highest point in Tennessee. Clingmans Dome is also known as ... yes, wait for it ... "on top of ol' Smoky". We intended to return to Clingmans Dome after setting up in the Smokemont Campground. We found our way to Smokemont Campground at the south end of the park, registered and got set up in our campsite. We unhitched and set up the little solar panel, because this was another unserviced campground. We headed back to the turn off to Clingmans Dome / "on top of ol' Smoky". At the top of Clingmans Dome / "on top of ol' Smoky" we walked around taking photos. We drove back down to Hwy. 441, and turned south back towards Smokemont Campground.
The road was narrow and winding, with no shoulders. Sometimes the road edge just dropped off over a cliff. Sometimes it dropped off into a river. Occasionally, there would be a bit of a grassy ditch, then thick forest. A few miles before we got back to the campground, all hell broke loose. Without warning, the tie rod end on the driver's side broke. The detached driver's side wheel turned sharply to the right. The truck flew off the road and into the ditch. I attempted to steer back to the left, towards the road. Only the passenger's side wheel turned left. The driver's side wheel remained jammed to the right. Now the wheels were pointing in opposite directions as I slid uncontrollably through the ditch towards the trees. The tires were digging in and ploughing through the soggy grass ditch. The back end of the truck swung to the right, and the truck slid sideways through the ditch. Only the wetness of the grass and mud prevented it from flipping over. I was afraid to touch the brake, for fear that the truck would just roll over onto the passenger's side. We were sliding sideways into the trees. I continued to frantically try to steer to the left. The right side of the truck was scraping the tree branches. Finally the truck began to swing back towards the road. I slid back through the ditch, and partially back up onto the road. I slammed on the brakes, and we stopped. Fuck ! ! !
Joanne had her hand on Bo, who was on her lap when we hit the ditch. She grabbed his harness as we slid into the ditch, and prevented him from flying around. Everybody was safe ! We jumped out, and looked at the front of the truck. The wheels were turned in opposing directions. The broken tie rod end was hanging down. Now I needed to get the front end of the truck off the narrow road. I tried to back up into the ditch, but the front wheels being turned opposite made that close to impossible. I backed up, twisting and sliding, and got the front end off the road. We were perpendicular to the road, with the back end in the ditch. The ditch was all torn up from the truck sliding through it. The small grassy section of ditch only existed from the point that we left the road, to the point where we returned to the road. A second earlier, or a second later, and we would have rammed into trees.
I turned on the emergency flashers. A car stopped to offer assistance. We asked for a ride to the south end of the park, to the Oconaluftee Visitor Centre. He drove us there, explaining that he stopped to offer assistance because he recognized the Manitoba license plate. He fishes every year in Lake Of The Woods, on the Manitoba / Ontario / Minnesota border.
At the Visitor Centre, while Joanne waited outside with Bo, I went in to ask for assistance. We could not get a cell phone signal anywhere in the park. They assisted me by letting me phone my Emergency Roadside Service from the phone behind their counter. I was on the phone with Emergency Roadside Service when I overheard a conversation on their park radio about my disabled truck on the side of the road. I was busy talking to ERS, and couldn't hear much of the conversation, but I pointed out to a Park Ranger walking by me that they were talking about my truck on the 2 way radio. She listened briefly to the radio, then left. I was talking to ERS. They said they would contact a towing service and phone me back in 10 or 15 minutes with details. When they phoned back, they had not only arranged for a tow truck, but had contacted a repair shop in the nearby town of Cherokee, North Carolina, on the Cherokee Nation Reservation. Good work, ERS.
I overheard a conversation at the front counter, people coming into the park asking for a campground recommendation. I intervened, recommended Smokemont Campground, then explained that I desperately needed a ride back to the campground. I had told ERS to have the tow truck meet me at the campground. The campers obliged, and drove us all back to the campground, 5 people and a little dog jammed into their pickup truck.
Less than an hour later, the tow truck arrived at the campground to pick me up. We drove to where the truck was supposed to be. WHAT ? ! ? IT WAS GONE ! ! ! The tow truck driver explained that the National Park Rangers must have declared it a safety hazard, and had it towed. I was livid ! I'm typing this 24 hours later, and I still am. We drove to the far south end of the park, to the town of Cherokee, where cell phone service resumed. He phoned the National Park dispatch office, and they verified that yes, they had my truck towed, by Crow's Towing in Cherokee. I can't even begin to describe how upset I was. The driver tried to calm me down as he drove to Crow's Towing. There was my truck. Crow had dragged it up onto their flat bed wrecker, because the doors were locked, and they couldn't shift the transmission from "park". Crow, an extremely tattooed Cherokee, presented me with a bill for $145. My tow truck driver had already explained that Crow wouldn't be releasing my truck until his bill was paid. Crow refused to accept a credit card. He balked at accepting a traveller's cheque. Finally, and reluctantly, he accepted a traveller's cheque. A HUNDRED AND FORTY-FIVE DOLLARS !
My tow truck picked up the truck, and we dropped it off at Cherokee Tire. He drove me back to the campground. I had to leave the truck unlocked, with the key in it, on a Friday night, in a Cherokee Nation town. I felt pretty uneasy about that.
I needed moral support. Joanne had none to give. She felt as defeated and demoralized as I did, perhaps more. We had a lousy evening, both of us wanting the other to help, neither of us able to help one another. I was, and continue to be livid about the park staff's lack of communication and co-ordination with one another. I was on the phone at the Visitor's Centre, receiving park staff assistance to obtain a tow truck, while the staff out on the road were calling the office, to have a tow truck called to tow my truck away. AND < SPUTTER > ... I even brought to some little bimbo's attention that a discussion was taking place on their park radio about my truck. What ineptitude ! What bureaucratic bungling ! And I'm not even taking issue with the Park Ranger on the road who declared my vehicle to be left in an unsafe manner. I strongly disagree, but that's not what's upsetting to me about this situation.
We had a sombre, unhappy evening. Although Joanne was unable to, I saw the good fortune that existed in the fact that we were not injured. The truck didn't roll over. We didn't have the trailer attached, which would have certainly resulted in both vehicles rolling over into the ditch, and crashing into the trees. We made a decision to alter our travel plans. We are heading back to the Interstate, and driving as hard and fast as we can back to Canada, to buy a new truck. No Blue Ridge Parkway, no Washington, D.C., no Hershey chocolate factory, no Pennsylvania Dutch Country. I don't feel Dee-Dee is safe any more.
DSK
