Camping at Hickory Nut Gap Cabin

One day in early spring, I heard a conversation that was not for my ears.  It went something like this, “It’s time to plant the potatoes at Hickory Nut Gap Cabin.”  This cabin was located in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park, although this incident happened before the birth of the park.  The cabin was nestled in a deep hollow just off the Anderson Road and was owned by the Little River Lumber Company.

To my surprise, I was permitted to go on that trip.  Oh, how exciting!  We gathered our scanty food supply together.  It consisted of meat, meal, coffee and potatoes and a few other necessities.  Of course, the gun and lantern were musts.

Uphill, downhill we went until we got to the Boat Mountain.  What an accomplishment.  On our way down, we could look to the right and see Stocking Hollow.  At that moment I did not care to hear about the old traveler stopping there to spend the night and got his sock burned in the campfire to give this little sleepy hollow its name.

We were traveling faster since we were traveling down grade.  Finally, we came to a large hickory tree.  The dog begins to sniff and look up into the tree.  There was a squirrel feeding on the nuts.  My father raised the gun and fired.  The squirrel come tumbling to the ground.  I knew  the squirrel was to become a part of our evening meal.

Just a few steps from the tree was a trail going down a steep path toward the cabin.  Walking over sticks and stones some several yards a cabin came in view.  The door was unlocked and the door opened with an unfriendly sound and brought into view a puncheon floor, a table made of a split log with the smooth sides placed together for the flat surface, the chairs we made from smaller pieces of logs with legs nailed to them.  The bed was high off the floor made from small trees and the mattress was a huge tick stuffed with dry leaves.  Oh, I thought I was to have fun sleeping in this bed.  Now, where was the stove?  It was not there.  I discovered the few cooking utensils and dishing upside down on the table. 

The next move was to build a fire in the fireplace and start supper.  There was plenty of chips and dry wood out at the board-break at the end of the house.  Water was to be brought to heat and wash the pots and dishes.  After this task had been accomplished, I was informed that my sister and I were to prepare the evening meal.  The squirrel was placed in a black iron pot hung on a hook in the fireplace.  A round pot with three legs called an oven or baker was to be used to cook the bread.

Red hot coals were shoveled out on the hearth and the oven was placed on them.  Corn meal was mixed to the right constituency and poured in the oven.  An iron lid with a turned-up covered the oven and more hot coals were brought from the fire and heaped upon the lid.  A coffee pot was placed on more coals on the hearth with water in it.  When the water came to a boil the coffee was added.  The next step was to fry each of us a slice of meat.  A three legged skillet was place on top of the oven and a few potatoes were placed in the edge of the fire covered with coals to bake.  Ho, how the heat did bear sown on my face and hands.  I had never been properly introduced to the dish rag or managing the steaming pots.  After much effort and time the meal was on the table ready to eat.

More water had to be carried from the book and some was heated in a bucked for the purpose of washing the dishes.

Darkness settled down on the cabin.  The lantern was not lighted.  We had to conserve oil.  We settled down to watching the fire and finding fire pictures.  The most common picture to be found was a pink pig with gold colored feet.  After tiring of this pastime, bedtime was announced.  Probably, I was the first one to the bed, when I learned that I was to sleep at the floor of the bed.  This announcement took a lot of the joy out of climbing the bed post to get in bed.  When I laid my body down, the leaves made a very hard bed.  I lay for some time staring at the moon thought a large crack in the wall.  Finally, I fell asleep.

In the wee small hours of morning, I was awakened by the frantic barking of hounds.  They passed by the cabin and their voices began to get fainter.  I lay some time before going to sleep again.  When I awoke the next morning the sun was peeping over the tree tops.  A fire was burning brightly in the fireplace.

The cooking had to be done.  Oh, how I dreaded the ordeal.  While I was busy preparing the meal, I heard strange voices outside.  It was some hunters looking for their dogs.  It was their dogs we had heard and they had chased a bear by the cabin.

After the few household chores, there was not too much to do until meal time again, the day was drawing to a close and more wood and water had to be brought in for the night.  I could not find any interest in the fire-pictures.  I was wondering if I would have to sleep at the foot of the bed again.  It did to take me long to find out.  What had I done to deserve all this?  I lay with my face turned to the wall.  There was the moon again seeming to laugh at me.  I closed my eyes, but there was the noise of the night insects and the lonesome hooting of an owl.  I lay there for some time before I fell asleep.

Moring came and I wondered how much longer this camping was going to last, but I tried to endure my misery in silence. 

Just after the noonday meal, I went to the little brook for water.  My homesickness was almost unbearable.  I sat down on a large rock in the middle of the brook to reason this out.  I wondered how the brook rushed on so musically when I was so miserable.  There were the little branch minnows swimming in the clear cool water seeming with no worries at all.  Was I the most miserable creature that existed in this wilderness?

Then, I thought that the bear might return and use me for his supper.  I dipped the bucked full of water and hurried back to the cabin.

Finally, I decided to ask when we would be going home.  I received the news I had hoped to hear.  We would be leaving the cabin right away.  I could hardly wait until we started.  The cabin was put in order and the fire was put out with the water I had brought.  The door was locked and off we went.  I did not notice the steep climb.  Neither did I notice the steep decent of Boat Mountain.  The distance grew shorter.  At last we sighted our house.  I could hardly wait to get there.

Once inside the house, I thought Home Sweet Home.  I will never leave for a camping trip again and I have made two trips in one to Hickory Nut Cabin, my first and my last.

By: Lula Gregory Flynn