Great Smoky Mountains National Park: Hiking Copeland with the Boss

Between weather, finishing a book and working lots of hours at my job, getting out in the woods has been a difficult task these last few months. Since I typically work weekends, I have not seen many of my hiking friends for several months. In fact, it was reaching such severity that I received and urgent message from the BOSS! Not to be confused with my work boss; this boss is the real BOSS, the head honcho, the Big Cheese! I reverently speak of Marlene Denton who is without a doubt the BOSS! “How did she become the BOSS?” you ask. I suppose there are several reasons; however, the main reason being that Marlene is the only human on the face of planet earth that can tame the wild and wily energizer bunny many of us know as Mike Maples! Many have tried to contain that spirited bundle of energy that inhibits the body and soul of Mike Maples. Ben Bacot tried and failed. Maples sent him to live in an old abandoned brewery in South Carolina. Richard Owen sent an army of Puffins to capture the Mountain Jedi; but they too were defeated and are now floating adrift on an iceberg in Antarctica. Many others have tried, but all have failed except Marlene. Thus, when I got the message from Marlene that she was taking a day off work and that my presence was required; I replied most hurriedly with an affirmative “YES BOSS.” We set the date and had planned to meet in Greenbrier for some off trail adventures. The original forecast looked optimistic. But the day before all that changed. Morning showers with an afternoon break, followed by an evening forecast of gloom and doom. I awoke the aforementioned morning to clear skies. I grabbed my phone to see if the weather folks had called off Armageddon. I was assured that the rain was coming; however, the afternoon would be free of the wet stuff. I quickly messaged the BOSS and suggested that we delay our hike, meet for lunch and then decide where to hike at that time. Marlene agreed, suggested a lunch meeting place and Plan B was made. I crawled back under the blankets and grabbed another hour of slumber only to awaken to white fluffy clouds and heavenly blue skies as I walked outside! I made ready and headed out to meet the BOSS at Trish’s Mountain Diner outside of Gatlinburg. I thought that perhaps the rain had somehow missed me and that I would drive into it enroute to G’burg. Alcoa was blue skies. Wears Valley was blue skies. Pigeon Forge was blue skies! Nowhere along my route did I encounter rain or any dark clouds! Was the rain late? I checked with the weather gods. Once again, they assured me that it was supposed to be raining and that the afternoon would be dry! Dazed and confused, I proceeded to the designated lunch place. Marlene and her husband George were awaiting me with table procured. They had brought along a girl they only identified as Dorothy to whom the BOSS said was looking for her lost dog. I believe the dogs name was Toto or something like that.

After lunch, we decided that in the interest of having more time to hike that we would drive to nearby Copeland Creek and do some exploration in this area that was once a well establish community prior to the establishment of the Park. The 1931 shows the old roads going up Copeland Creek. There were roads up Big Copeland, Middle or Little Copeland, and the Left Fork.

This map only shows the families living in Copeland at the time of the map and that Maples guy has done a lot of research on families that lived in this area throughout different time periods. Both of us have written several blogs from hikes in Copeland and I believe that Maples covers it in one of his books. My book does not cover Copeland; however, I think that Maples is mentioned once or twice!

Some of Glenn Cardwell’s family called Copeland home and it was from his maps that I discovered some home places that I had missed on prior visits. In fact, there are several hand drawn maps of families that called Copeland home; thus, naming places can be a debatable chore depending on your source. And just like other areas of the Smokies, people moved around and sometimes did a little house swapping. But enough of this banter; the BOSS wants to get hiking!

Despite the forecast for winters return, spring wildflowers were making their first appearances along the forest floor.

The main road heads up the left fork of Copeland; but we wanted to stay with Big Copeland and head for some unfound home places. Look for the subtle remains of a home place to your left after crossing the creek. There is little left of the chimney; however, George found some detritus a short distance from the chimney pile. Detritus is a fancy word for miscellaneous remnants that I stole from my good friend Mike Knies. Furthermore, you might call it a fancy word for garbage!

We made several easy crossings of the creek today and I soon learned that the young lady who accompanied us was not really Dorothy. Nor was she looking for Toto. The mystery guest was in fact Jamie who was not in search of her dog; rather, her quest was the retrieval of her picinic basket which had been stolen by some bear named Yogi. Considering that George had an evil grin on his face during the dissemination of this information, I found the whole story rather implausible.

After crossing the creek we came to another home place (1226 on the map below) with a tub hanging from a tree limb.

George dashed back across the creek to investigate the remains of an old kettle. Although he would have you believe that it was a helmet from an alien being that travelled to the Smokies from the Andromeda system!

Up the creek, I was hoping to find remains of the Bonwell Chapel which was on Glenn Cardwells map and the 1931 map. My apologies to the BOSS, as I misspelled it on my GPS and was calling it the Bonewell Chapel! Most churches did not have a chimney; thus, locating any remains can often be a daunting task. However, from the main road there is short road that abruptly ends next to a side creek.

Above it is a flat area where upon close examination appeared to be where the Chapel once stood. Furthermore, we noticed some rocks that were likely part of the Chapels foundation.

Continuing the creek we came to our next home place which I accidentally left off my map above. It was in between the Chapel and home place 1227 on the map.

Lots of detritus and more signs of spring located near the chimney remains.

A driveway heads uphill to the chimney remains.

The road ahead turned ugly which meant another creek crossing. Creek crossings are the BOSS’s favorite part of the hike as she informed me on her way across.

George decided to brave the “ugly” and came out at what Mike Maples calls Camp Rock.

I believe that Maples makes some sort of historical reference as to the name of this overhang; however, I have it from a very reliable source that Maples (in his younger years) was in the company of some young ladies and got a little inebriated. Unable to stagger back to his car, he passed out under the rock and awoke with a horrendous headache! Marlene found evidence of his shenanigans a little farther down the creek.

Even more evidence was found a short distance later!

But let us not be too harsh on the Mountain Jedi. After all weren’t we all young and foolish at one point in our lives?

Just past Camp Rock is a large clearing and another home place.

According to one of the maps this home belonged to Margaret Parton and from Glenn Cardwell’s map there were supposed to be two more Parton family places up the hollow. Neither of these home places or the creek that runs up the hollow is found on the 1931 map.

The area where the first home place was supposed to be located did not appear very plausible as only a very small flat surface was visible. In fact, the creek narrowed and it appeared that the trail dropped into the creek and continued along the other side. A fallen tree required a quick crawl underneath to come out ahead to the remains of the home place of what the map said belonged to Mike and Linnie Parton.

A chimney pile with a root cellar below it were all that remains today along with one piece of what was once the family stove.

I was pleased to have found at least one of the home places that I sought. Soon I rejoined the group as we headed back down Copeland Creek for a group picture at Camp Rock.

On the way back we decided to head up to the Rector Cemetery along the Left Fork of Copeland. Looking at my GPS, there was one more home place that I had marked from the Cardwell map. A narrow and ugly passage awaited me to reach this home place. The BOSS decided to let me investigate this one on my own. It seemed odd that no remains of a driveway or trail adorned the small creek bed. However, as I climbed the ridge up from the gully, I found myself on a wide old road going in both directions. I went toward the right in the direction of my waypoint and quickly came to a dead end. Wide open area that was perfect for a home place; however, not a clue remained of its existence.

I returned and followed the road for a short distance but found nothing. Where the road went, I do not know; thus, with tears in my eyes, I dropped back down the gully to my friends below. We proceeded up the road to the cemetery.

The Rector Cemetery is not the largest in the park; however, it is a large and beautiful cemetery with most of the ground covered in moss.

You will find names like “Parton” far more than you will “Rector;” however, if you look closely in the woods just before reaching the cemetery you will find what little is left of the Rector home place. Some maps say Joe Rector and others Sallie Rector. Whether they lived there at the same time or different ones is not known by this hiker. Or perhaps I know and just don’t want to tell! Oh the mysteries of the mountains. Actually, I am withholding information in exchange for more of the exciting Maples night at Camp Rock story. Just be careful as that Bacot fellow said he had information and has not been seen or heard from since!

OK, before I mysteriously disappear… the BOSS has informed me that I should tell you that we had a wonderful day in the mountains and that neither myself, George or Jamie were beaten, thrown into the creek, whipped with a briar stick or tortured in any way shape or manner. Marlene was kind, gentle and gracious all day. That is all I have to say about that.