Date: 2009-04-24
From: Gatlinburg, TN

To: Davenport Gap (Standing Bear Farm)
Miles today: 6.0
Weather: clear sky

Standing BearAfter getting breakfast at the local pancake house in Gatlinburg, Colin and Anna gave 10 sticks, Liz and I a ride to Standing Bear Farm, a hiker hostel just past Davenport Gap at the north end of the Smoky Mountains. Since dogs aren't allowed in the Smoky Mountains backcountry, Einstein had been spending the week there on vacation. Apparently he had the run of th eplace, wandering the farm in the day and hanging out by the fire each night. He was happy to see us, tacking Liz and I and licking our faces incessantly - as if to say "Please don't ever leave me again!"Standing Bear is a 9 acre farm and hstel nestled in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains owned by Curtis Owen and Maria Guzman. It had a nice mountain stream running through it. Except for the house they live in, all the buildings are made from irregular wood and tin roots. Some of the buildings are there from the days it was a tobacco farm and a monshiner hangout, complete with a rickety wooden porch perfect for a bluegrass jam.There's a bunkhouse that sleeps 12; a cabin with 2 double beds, 2 lofts, and a wood burning stove; a common building and a few other buildings for showers, laundry, store and privy. Curtiss stocked about everything a hiker might need, at very reasonabe prices. He charges for every little thing, but he charges fair prices. He also makes a daily run to the next highway exit so hikers can get beer and hit the local BBQ stand.Curtis is short spoken, gruff and deliberately rude, but in a very good natured way (if that makes sense). He has a dry sense of humor that, for many, is an acquired taste. Rock Hound is a former hiker that workds for Curtis a few months out of the year and takes care of most of the guests' needs. He's a former thru-hiker, quite large and strong, and always willing to share a story or challenge a guest to a game of chess.Everything works on the honor system at Standing Bear Farm. Each person writes their name on an envelope, makes a note of each charge from the store, adds on their lodging and leaves the cash in the envelope before departing.Colin, Anna, Liz and I pitched our tents on the "back 40", or "the mesa" as it is alternatively called, by an old tobacco barn because it was cheaper than the bunkhouse or cabins. Ten Sticks tried out his new hammock in the barn.There were about 20 people staying at the farm that night, some we already knew - but quite a few we hadn't met before, including Buthc who was in his 60's and recovering from a heart attack. His doctor said walking was the best therapy, so he decided to hike the AT. Butch was a sailor in the Navy in his younger days and had lived all over the U.S. since, so had great stories to tell around the fire.In front of the common area, right by the fire pit, was a stream that ran through the farm. A circle of rocks in the stream formed a small pool that served as the beer cooler. Rock Hound put on the one mix CD he had. It was a good mix of Paul Simon, Bib Dylan, Blondie, The Pretenders, and some other great music of the 70's. But since it was his only CD, we heard it over, and over, and over again.Einstein loved being around everyone by the fire and received lots of love and attention from the other hikers, but he stayed fairly close to Liz and I and never let us out of his sight. One hiker we met, Junior, decided he didn't want to pay to stay at the farm, so he hiked up the road back by the trail to pitch his tent. As he was pulling his tent out of the bag he saw a pair of green eyes appear by his legs. Assuming it was Einstein, he greeted him and bent down to pet him - but it turned out to be a bear cub. Up the hill he saw another pair of green eyes that he assumes was the mother. So he grabbed his bag, backed slowly away and headed back to the farm - now more than willing to pay the $18 bucks for the hostel.