We finally got headed in the right direction. We were heading south toward the mountains and my Dad called. The plates for the motor home showed up at his house. We turned around and headed back. After a few phone calls and lots of confusion we figured out we were headed the wrong way, south. We got our plates on the RV and started off again. We reached the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. The winding road was narrow, and beautiful. One of the high lights was not one but two bears we saw on the side of the road eating berry's. Of course we got out and got as close as we thought was safe. In other words we weren't the closest.
We drove and drove and drove and finally found the entrance to the Blue Ridge Parkway. It was getting late but I thought we still had some time to see the scenery. As we got higher and higher the fog (smoke) rolled in, at times we could only see 25-50 feet in front of us. The scenic over look was well; fog. Joe kept on going. I thought we should stop but it was so remote and we weren't seeing any other vehicle he decided it was better to drive 15-20 miles per hour than stop. We drove white knuckled for 4 hours till we finally found a road down the mountain. I can't describe what a relief it was to see more than 50 feet in front of me.
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