I have sort of a long history with Clingman's Dome. My dad took me up this
Appalachian high point in the early 1970's, and, sweeping his hand in a wide arc,
presented a 100-mile view of the Smokey Mountains and two, maybe three of these United States
before my youthful, impressionable eyes. It was an everlasting moment I will never forget.
It was a bit the same when Alissa & I brought our kids here in 1997.
We left our campsite on the 13th of August, and drove to the Tennessee / North Carolina
border. Three hundred feet below the summit, I parked the van, and we hiked to the top.
Although it isn't as pristine as, say, a Teton summit, it is a major summit nonetheless. We
gazed across foggy ridges, not knowing the names of a myriad of high points.
Naturally, it reminded me of the past, when I was here with my own parents and my first family.
I could remember my dad's voice, and my mom's side-kick commentary, when they'd brought me
and my sisters here more than twenty-five years before.
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