Wednesday was a lousy day, weather-wise. Cool, wet, dreary. I got stir-crazy and decided to take a road trip to Pigeon Forge, about 30 miles to the east of Walland. I wanted to see the town again, which I first saw in 2012 in our first month on the road. I wasn’t expecting it to be any less tacky than the first time, but the town – and Dollywood – had a special meaning for Jett and me. It was the place where our desire to travel the country solidified.
If you aren’t familiar with our first month in an RV, it could be characterized as “hell.” Three blowouts, the last doing serious damage to the RV, and a miserable, rainy Columbus Day weekend in a Motel 6 in Knoxville while RV repairs were being made. Jett was in favor of scrapping our plans and returning to Massachusetts. I reminded her that we had rented our house for a year and had no place to return to. Didn’t matter. There were a lot of tears that weekend. Mostly hers.
On Monday we retrieved the repaired RV and made our way an hour south to Pigeon Forge, to spend a day at Dollywood. Our hearts weren’t really in it and the day, though sunny, was very cool, in the 50s. But we went.
And had a wonderful time. Dollywood was a revelation. I didn’t ride the many great roller coasters, but we had the best fried chicken dinner ever, toured Dolly’s RV, visited the dogs that we had booked for the day at Doggywood and generally shed all of the misery that had accumulated over those awful first 30 days.
Our trip – and our faith in our RV lifestyle – was saved.
The weather was even worse on Wednesday than it was on that Columbus Day in 2012 – highs in the 40s. I had no intention of going into Dollywood, but I had to do a drive-by and give it a salute. And I found my eyes getting damp. I was touched in a way that I didn’t expect. This was where our 8 years on the road really began.
Well, Jett, I made it back to Dollywood. Wish you had been with me.