In the morning, we continue our journey through the enchanting Great Smokies. The road leads further south. Leaves on the asphalt, rolling hills outside the window, sun in the sky. What else do you need?) Of course, a map of all this beautiful chaos!) We pick one up at the Visitor Center on the road and mark the spots we definitely want to visit.

And soon, the first one: we pull up to the cascade of Linville Falls. It's a kilometer from the highway. We hike up a picturesque trail; I love it, but the girls in flip-flops, not so much.)) Our first waterfall in America, by the way=) Noise, spray, you can climb up to the lake it falls from. So cool!)

Then we drive over the most complex concrete bridge in the world, the Linn Cove Viaduct, over 100 meters above the surface. Emptiness on both sides—the feeling of flying is only spoiled by the fact that you can't get out and stand there. Here and further on, you understand why the road is called the Blue Ridge Parkway. The mountains here really are blue.

When you look into the distance, the nearby peaks are green because of the trees, further away they are a bit darker due to shadows and light mist, further still they are even darker and bluer, and so it continues until they almost merge with the sky at the horizon. For this same reason, these mountains are called the Smoky Mountains. You can see so far that the last ridges are always in a bluish haze...

But enough digressions, next is the highest peak of the Appalachians: Mount Mitchell. As we climb higher, the clouds that previously seemed to hang near the highest peaks cover us completely. The vegetation changes sharply. Raspberries, birch, moss—nothing familiar?) It feels like driving through the Leningrad region in late August. Nothing is turning yellow yet, but everything has long since finished blooming.. A clearly perceptible chill sets in.

At the very top, on a clear day, you can see both neighboring states at once. We were lucky to catch half a sky of sun. Then the clouds flew in and ate everything.) You can touch the clouds here with your hands, it won't hurt them. They wander around the peak back and forth, and every now and then they close off the great view that opened up. When the sky is clear, the clouds below make it hard to tell where you are. Whether in a plane or on the ground. You can see into the distance, I think, for 250 kilometers. Far. And the white clouds against the blue sky, on the contrary, are especially close. That's the story.) Only the nasty steam keeps flying back and forth, no matter how much you swat it, interfering with the view and driving you off the platform.)) Alright. We eat raspberries and head back to the car.

We keep driving, stopping, driving, and so on without end. Some meadows, little rivers, it's cool everywhere you get out. However, you want something large-scale. The Great Smokies are full of cool cliffs—I don't remember the names, but something like Stone Mountain, Father Mountain, etc. We decide to go to Chimney Rock, where Olya's sister was. The photos look cool)

The photos don't lie. A huge rock, truly resembling a chimney, towers over the lake below. The top of the rock is flat, so it doubles as an excellent observation deck. The park closes at 5:30 PM, they won't let you in later, so plan your time)

We were half an hour late and had to settle for a view from 70 meters lower. Still cool, but it's clearly cooler at the top. We drive on. It's getting dark quickly outside the window, and it seems our acquaintance with the Appalachians is over. We all unanimously hope to return here again in the fall, not without reason believing that it's hard to imagine places more beautiful than here in autumn.

Now 3 days of driving...