Gatlinburg: Gateway to Hell

Bummer about the Thrift Store.




And the Trading Post.








I thought my vacation to Gatlinburg for the Tall Drink of Water's family reunion was going to be peaceful and relaxing. Wrong and wrong. First, the cabin we're in is in Pigeon Forge, which is crazier and more overwhelming than Gatlinburg. (VACANCY! GO-KARTS! T-SHIRTS! DINNER THEATER! WEDDING CHAPEL AND OLDE TIME PHOTOS! GOLDEN CORRAL!) And two, it's not been relaxing or peaceful so far.

We got diverted on a two-hour detour before we got out of Kentucky on Friday, then when we got into town there was this crazy fire.

Today we went whitewater rafting (there were promises of class 4 rapids), which turns out, was about 2 hours away with traffic. So we get there, we're all excited for some adventure and to get flipped out of a raft and at best the rapids were a 3. Tops. Probably more like a 2.5. That's what you call class inflation.

Then on the two hour drive back with wet asses from the lamo rapids, TDW's uncle's car broke down. Sweet! Twenty minutes later I'm walking down the strip in Gatlinburg thinking I might as well use this time to buy some fudge and an airbrushed t-shirt when I hear TDW's aunt and uncle yelling for us to come back.

Then you'll never believe what happened next, folks. With TDW pushing on my wet butt and me grabbing the car door, we climbed five feet onto the back of the flatbed tow-truck back into the car and proceeded to ride down the strip in the car, facing backwards, on the back of the tow truck. Windows down, staring into the windshields of the cars bumber-to-bumper behind (but facing) us, we just started waving like we were on float it was so insane. People just staaaared. And can you blame them?

Much laughter, more stares and two miles later we're at a shop waiting for the car to get fixed drinking Bud Lights in the parking lot.

That's all within 24-hours. I'm afraid to attend the scheduled horseback riding tomorrow for fear of what awaits me. Maybe I should just chill at the pool.