We have about had our fill of the glitzy overdeveloped feel of Gatlinburg, Pigeon Forge and Seiverville so we take a ride to a space a little more rural. We check out the visitor center and find a great volunteer who obviously loves talking about the town and gives us some fun tips on sightseeing. We choose the Tinsley Bible Drug Company Soda Shop for lunch. What fun! The food was delicious; a Bible Burger, chili, a malt and a sundae both made with Blue Bell ice cream. The experience and atmosphere even better. The place was full of locals who, along with the long time waitstaff, did a lot of talking. Try it if you find yourself near here. BTW, The store and Bible burger are named after one of the pharmacists back in the day.
Dandridge
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We just had to cruise to Cades Cove because you know, everybody does. Traffic is pleasantly light and we are delighted at the only stoppage, a bear jam. We get a nice look at a mama bear and two yearlings moving through the meadow not far off the road. We stop for a picnic lunch along the Little River then head on home. Not quite yet. Another bear jam. A lone cub/yearling is foraging just off the road. He looks cute, small and a bit lonesome but here’s hoping he will be just fine.
The Francis Beidler Forest is flooded by rainwater channeled through the forest by crisscrossing, meandering creeks rather than the roiling, rising waters in a flood plain like Congaree swamp. Here, reflections fill the surface of clear blackwater flowing slowly around huge bald cypress, tupelo and red maple trees. There is no tangle of fallen and flood strewn debris and no film of mud everywhere. An Audubon Center boardwalk lets us stroll through nearly effortlessly.
crowned night heron stalk, snatch, then expertly crunch and swallow a crawdad. Tiny yellow birds dart all around us. They are Prothonotary Warblers, one of the most prolific nesters here. Occasionally one lights long enough for a good picture. We watch carefully for river otters but never spot one. We hear a nearby barred owl.
I would say that this is a park more accurately described as amazing than beautiful. It is all about a wilderness area encompassing the Congaree River floodplain forest, the largest floodplain forest remaining in the US. Just two weeks ago, and as often as 10 times a year when the Congaree overflows its banks, this area was inundated by ten feet or more of fast-moving water. Today, old growth water tupelo and bald cypress and the occasional loblolly pine tower above acres of dorovan muck (clay mixed with decaying leaves), still swamp pools, and slow-moving Cedar Creek. It is amazing how plants and creatures have evolved to survive here. 
We paddle the creek. We launch in that slippery mushy muck. The air is heavy with the smell of wet earth. We maneuver around submerged and half submerged debris and limbo under fallen trees. All this with a watchful eye for the snakes (I spotted one just ½ mile into the paddle) and spiders and all that call this place home. Viewed from water level, cypress and tupelo trunks appear enormous and the cypress knees that jut from the backwaters along the creek are too many to count. Sunlight filters through the bright, spring green as the canopy overhead is just leafing out. We spot the waving white flags of a half dozen whitetail deer as they startle at our appearance. Birdsong mixes with the rustle of wind through the trees. We have this unique place pretty much to ourselves for these hours. Yep, it is amazing. There are brief moments of disappointment as the roar of jets tear through the peaceful isolation of this wild space.