Dates ........ Saturday May11, 2002
Miles ........ 8 miles
From ........ Cosby Knob Shelter
To ............. Mountain Momma's hostel
Weather ... 62degF, clearing, mostly sunny, hazy warm afternoon.

Saturday May11, 2002

Mt. Cammerer 5025', Sunup Knob 5050', Davenport Gap 1975' - End of Smokies, the incomparable Mountain Mamma's hostel.

The morning started out sunny, 62degF and clearing, no rain for a change. As Caribou Frank and I descended into the first gap, we enjoyed the fresh, pleasing scent of Leatherleaf that was blossoming en masse in a large wet area along the trail.

We climbed Rocky Face and 5050' Mt. Sunup, stopping several times to rest in the humid air. Fortunately, we were climbing in the shade. When we reached the side trail to Mt. Cammerer we hid our packs in the bushes, took our valuables, camera and hiking sticks, and set off for the tower on top of the mountain. It was an easy hike. We climbed to rocks to the round, low-profile observation tower. There were good but hazy views in all directions except east - where a mass of clouds was boiling up the valley toward us. Looking north through the haze I could plainly see I 40 at the TN/NC line near Davenport Gap. Mt Cammerer and Davenport Gap at its base is the eastern end of the Great Smokey Mountains.

One of several beautiful views from Mt. Cammerer

We returned to the AT and began the long descent from 5025' down to the 1975' Davenport gap. We saw many day and weekend hikers on the AT. Horses are allowed on this portion of the trail and it shows it; it is wide and deeply eroded. About halfway down we saw three horseback riders. We also saw several places where the horse's hooves had broken away the edge of the trail. We took a break at the side trail to Cosby campground. Franks feet were bothering him, though he did not complain. As we came to the short side trail to Davenport Gap Shelter, we stopped to read and sign the register and take another break.

Knowing that my friend Jim Yeich may hike the trail back from our pickup point, I left a clear message that I was going to Mountain Mamma's hostel. I could have stayed at the shelter, but I wanted to call home and I had visions of one (or two) of her monster burgers floating about in my head. I was a day ahead of schedule and sure that Mammas would be lots more fun than the shelter.

When we reached the road in Davenport Gap, the driver of a huge, brand-new shiny fifth-wheel camper rig stopped and asked us where he was. We told him how to get back on the highway; right down the hill the way we were headed. He would not give us a ride. We walked the mile and a half. It was all downhill and we were in no hurry, so it was a pleasant walk.

Mountain Mammas (Spelled Mountain Moma's on her building) was someplace else. Walking in the front door was like entering a general store as it would have been 50 or 60 years ago. It was rustic, quaint Americana, an operating antiquity. Except for the obvious emphasis on tobacco products, and the ever-present tobacco smoke, I loved it. It seemed to me that promoting a deadly product such as tobacco would conflict with their extreme religious beliefs. (No cussing or alcohol allowed.)

But, she had GREAT burgers and ice cream, along with a host of other hiker supplies. It was nice enough that we were able to enjoy our meals at the outside picnic tables. The cabin- bunkhouses were nothing memorable, but the price ($15.00 including hot shower and laundry) was right. I had two of her burgers, an orange juice and a couple of ice cream cones. Oh how I wish I could eat like that when home, not on the trail. I could, I suppose, but I'd balloon out like a blimp! Actually, I know I've lost considerable weight on this hike. I was down three notches in my belt, one of which I had to add while on the trail. I called home, did laundry, showered and shaved. It was very relaxing and I enjoyed the company of Shreck, Pablo, and Caribou Frank.

We picked the pink-painted honeymoon cabin because it appeared to be the cleanest and freshest and was closest to the large stream that ran past the property. Frank soaked his tired, aching, swollen feet in the cold rushing water for an hour or so. A trout fisherman waded up the other shore, trying to entice a trout to take the flies he was casting on the water.

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