Is there any question why these are called the Smoky Mountains?
Last week I attended the Entomological Society of America (ESA) meetings in Knoxville, Tennessee. It was my first ESA attendance in more than ten years, so I took full advantage of the opportunity by speaking at the insect macrophotography symposium, presenting a poster on my soybean insect research, and enjoying face-to-face conversations with an extraordinary number of colleagues—some of whom I had not seen since my last ESA meeting and many more for which this was my first opportunity to meet them in person. I admit to having grown a little complacent in recent years about the importance of regular personal contact in cultivating these relationships—my attendance at this year’s ESA reminded me of that fact, and I’ve renewed my commitment to make ESA attendance a priority in the coming years.
Of course, no meeting should be all work and no play, and for me the chance to sample the local natural or cultural history is an added benefit of meeting attendance. This year’s destination for such was a no-brainer—located less than an hour’s drive from Knoxville, Great Smoky Mountains National Park is the largest federally protected area east of the Mississippi River. Straddling some of the highest peaks of one of the world’s oldest mountain ranges, the park has been designated an International Biosphere Reserve by the United Nations due to its rich biota.
One afternoon is not nearly enough time to even scratch the surface of the park’s 800 square miles, but it’s enough to get a taste of the diverse habitats they encompass and whet the appetite for further exploration. Highly recommended for those short on time is Clingman’s Dome—the park’s highest point at 6,643 ft. An observation tower allows spectacular vistas (provided the day has good visibility) of the surrounding mountains and the evergreen forests that cloak them. Unfortunately, the view has been marred in recent years by the accidental introduction of an exotic woolly adelgid (a relative of aphids) from Europe and its subsequent establishment on the forest’s Frazier firs. Dead trunks rise from the forest like tombstones—ghostly reminders of what has been lost. The starkness of the high elevation forest contrasts with the lush mixed hemlock forest that dominates the park’s lower elevations, and the 2.4-mile Alum Creek Trail provides an intimate experience with this rich forest and its thick understory of native rhododendron. I hope the following slide show imparts some essence of the experience, and larger versions of each photo can be seen by clicking on the thumbnails in the gallery that follows.
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- Arch Rock
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- View south from Clingman’s Dome
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- View east from Clingman’s Dome
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- View east from Clingman’s Dome
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- View south from Clingman’s Dome
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- View north from Clingman’s Dome Overlook Tower
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- Rhododendrons line Alum Creek
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- Snow melt rushes through Alum Creek
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- Small rapids are common in the upper reaches of Alum Creek
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- Foot bridge over Alum Creek
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- Arch Rock
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- Arch Rock
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012
Beetles In The Bush 
stunning pictures! thanks for sharing.
Thanks Ted. I haven’t been there in decades, but I worked my way through university by collecting plethodontid salamanders for a population geneticist during the summer and much of that work was in the southern Appalachians – Unicois, Nantahalas, and Smokies. Except for the Culicoides it was a great place to be a biologist. Too bad I was more into beetles at the time, because there is an extraordinary diversity of mites in the smokies – with the closest relatives of some strange, early derivative lineages only found in the West Coast rainforests.
Well, at least if you weren’t into mites you still had the good sense to be into beetles! 🙂
Great pictures!
Synchronous fireflys. F.Y.I. we have these in our naborhood in sevierville. Have been watching them since Tuesday. Please respond I need info.