Smoky Mountains stories of Appalachia

Chapter One: Maggie and Churro

Twelve-year-old Maggie stood on the porch of Mount LeConte Lodge, staring out at the misty peaks of the Smoky Mountains. The early morning sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow over the valley below. Today was llama dayโ€”the day her favorite animals would come up the Grotto Falls Trail, carrying supplies to the lodge.

Maggie at Mt LeConte Lodge

She tugged on her hiking boots and grabbed her worn-out cap, her heart racing with excitement. โ€œDad, Iโ€™m heading down to meet the llamas!โ€ she called into the cabin.

Her father, who had owned and run the lodge for as long as Maggie could remember, was sitting in his chair by the fireplace. He looked up from his book and smiled weakly. โ€œDonโ€™t go too far, Maggie. Weโ€™ve got a lot to do today.โ€

Maggieโ€™s smile faltered. She knew that her father had been struggling lately. The long days of managing the lodge, combined with his worsening knee pain, had him talking more and more about selling the place. The thought gave Maggie butterflies in her tummy. This lodge, these mountains, and the llamasโ€”they were all part of her. She couldnโ€™t imagine leaving it all behind.

But today, she wasnโ€™t going to think about that. Today was for the llamas.

She hurried down the trail toward the spot where the wranglers usually unloaded the animals. She could already hear the soft clinking of metal against rock, the sound of the llamasโ€™ hooves as they made their way up the mountain. Maggie grinned when she spotted Churro, her favorite llama, leading the pack. He was smaller than the others, with soft brown fur and a white patch on his nose that always reminded Maggie of snow on the peaks.

โ€œHey, Churro!โ€ Maggie called, running toward him.

Maggie and Churro on the trail

The llama lifted his head and gave a soft grunt, his large dark eyes watching her approach. Maggie reached out and patted his neck, feeling the warmth of his thick fur beneath her palm. Churro was stubborn, but he and Maggie had a bond that went beyond words.

โ€œReady to help me out again this summer?โ€ Maggie whispered to him, and Churro huffed in response.

The wranglers, sturdy men who had worked the trails for years, waved as they began unloading the supplies. Maggie stood by, watching with eager eyes as food, tools, and other necessities were unloaded from the llamas’ saddlebags. The work never ended at Mount LeConte Lodge, but that was part of what Maggie loved about it.

She spent the morning helping organize supplies, making sure everything was carried up to the lodge. By lunchtime, the llamas had already started their trek back down the mountain, and the lodge was bustling with activity. Maggieโ€™s father was inside, working with her mother to prepare for the guests who would soon arrive.

But all Maggie could think about was the conversation she had overheard last night.

โ€œWe canโ€™t keep doing this,โ€ her father had said, his voice low and tired. โ€œThe lodge needs more attention than we can give, and my knees arenโ€™t getting any better. We have to think about selling.โ€

Maggie had crept back to her room, her heart pounding in her chest. Sell the lodge? The idea seemed impossible. She had grown up here, spent every summer running through the trails, helping with the llamas, and meeting the hikers who arrived after a long trek. The thought of losing all of it made her feel as if a part of her would disappear, too.

She couldnโ€™t let it happen.

Maggie makes her plans

An idea began to form in her mind, one that made her pulse quicken. She would prove to her parents that she was ready to help more. If she could take on some of the work, maybe they wouldnโ€™t have to sell the lodge. And she knew just how to do it.

Tomorrow was another supply day, but instead of waiting for the wranglers, Maggie would take Churro down herself and bring supplies up. It would be hard, but she knew the trail better than anyone, and with Churro leading the way, she was sure they could do it. She wouldnโ€™t ask for permissionโ€”she knew her parents would say noโ€”but when she returned with the supplies, theyโ€™d see that she was serious.

Chapter Two: Into the Mist

The next morning, Maggie woke before dawn. Her parents were still asleep, and the lodge was quiet, save for the gentle creaking of the wooden beams as the wind stirred outside. Maggie slipped into her boots, grabbed her pack, and headed outside. The cool morning air hit her face, and the mist that clung to the mountains made everything seem dreamlike and quiet.

She made her way down the trail, her heart pounding in her chest. What she was about to do wasnโ€™t exactly allowed, but it wasnโ€™t strictly forbidden either. Her father had always said that the mountain rewarded those who knew it well, and Maggie knew every inch of the Grotto Falls Trail.

When she reached the spot where the llamas were kept, she found Churro resting in his pen. His large ears perked up when he saw her, and Maggie smiled.

Maggie leads Churro

โ€œGood morning, Churro,โ€ she whispered, slipping a rope around his neck. โ€œWeโ€™ve got a big job today.โ€

Churro stood, his body shaking off the nightโ€™s chill, and Maggie led him out of the pen. She quickly saddled him with an empty pack, knowing that theyโ€™d fill it once they reached the trailhead. The other llamas watched them leave, but Maggie didnโ€™t take any moreโ€”just Churro. He was enough.

The trail down was steep, but Maggie had walked it countless times before. She moved carefully, guiding Churro over the rocky path and through the patches of thick underbrush. Grotto Falls roared in the distance, its sound growing louder as they neared the lower part of the trail. Maggie felt a rush of excitement as the morning sun began to break through the mist. They were going to make it.

By midday, they reached the trailhead, where the supplies were waiting in crates. Maggie took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Now came the hard part.

Maggie packs Churro

She loaded the supplies onto Churroโ€™s back, securing them tightly with the ropes her father had taught her to use. The llama stood patiently, his large eyes watching her as she worked. When the last crate was empty, Maggie stepped back and admired her work.

โ€œWeโ€™re ready,โ€ she said, patting Churroโ€™s neck. โ€œLetโ€™s head home.โ€

Chapter Three: The Storm

As Maggie and Churro began the climb back up the trail, the sky darkened. Clouds rolled in, thick and heavy, and a distant rumble of thunder echoed through the mountains. Maggieโ€™s stomach wobbled with worry. A storm was coming.

Storm over the Smokies

She quickened her pace, urging Churro forward. The trail, which had been dry and firm, was beginning to turn slick with mud as the first drops of rain fell. Maggieโ€™s boots slid over the rocks, and she had to hold onto Churroโ€™s reins tightly to keep her balance.

โ€œCome on, Churro,โ€ Maggie whispered. โ€œWe can do this.โ€

But the storm came fast, faster than she had expected. The wind howled through the trees, bending the branches and sending leaves flying across the path. Rain pelted down, soaking Maggieโ€™s clothes and turning the trail into a muddy river. Churro stumbled, his hooves slipping on the slick rocks.

Maggieโ€™s heart pounded. They couldnโ€™t turn back nowโ€”the supplies were too important, and she was determined to prove herself. But the storm was making the trail dangerous, and they still had a long way to go.

Suddenly, Churro stopped. His ears flattened against his head, and he let out a nervous grunt. Maggie tugged on his reins, but he refused to move.

โ€œWhatโ€™s wrong, boy?โ€ she asked, her voice trembling.

Churroโ€™s eyes darted toward the trees, and Maggie felt a chill run down her spine. In the distance, she could hear the faint rumble of rocksโ€”landslides were not uncommon in these mountains during storms. They had to keep moving.

โ€œCome on, Churro,โ€ Maggie urged, pulling harder on the reins. But the llama wouldnโ€™t budge. He stood, his legs trembling, his body tense.

Maggie and Churro from stories of Appalachia

Maggie took a deep breath and stood in front of him, looking into his eyes. โ€œListen, I know itโ€™s scary, but weโ€™ve got to keep going. Weโ€™re almost there, I promise.โ€

She reached out and patted his neck, trying to calm him. Churro released a soft huff, and finally, after what felt like an eternity, he took a step forward. Maggie smiled through the rain.

โ€œThatโ€™s it, boy. Weโ€™re going to make it.โ€

Chapter Four: Homeward Bound

The storm didnโ€™t let up, but Maggie and Churro pressed on. The trail became more treacherous with every step, but they kept moving slowly and carefully. Maggieโ€™s clothes were soaked through, her boots caked with mud, but she refused to give up.

Maggie and Churro reach the lodge

By the time they reached the top of the trail, the rain had begun to slow. The wind had died down, and the clouds were starting to break, letting in patches of sunlight. Maggie could see the lodge in the distance, a warm glow in the misty morning.

โ€œWe did it, Churro,โ€ she whispered, her voice hoarse with exhaustion. โ€œWe made it.โ€

When they finally reached the lodge, Maggieโ€™s father was waiting on the porch, his face pale with worry. He rushed down the steps as Maggie and Churro came into view.

Maggie and her father

โ€œMaggie!โ€ he called, his voice shaking with a mix of relief and concern. โ€œWhat on earth were you thinking?โ€

Maggie sat down, her legs trembling with exhaustion. โ€œIโ€ฆ I wanted to help. I wanted to show you that I can do this, that we donโ€™t have to sell the lodge.โ€

Her father stared at her for a moment, taking in the mud-splattered clothes, the drenched hair, and the tired but determined look in her eyes. His gaze shifted to Churro, who stood patiently with the supplies still strapped to his back, then back to Maggie.

โ€œMaggie, you couldโ€™ve been hurt,โ€ he said softly, kneeling to her level. โ€œButโ€ฆ you did it. You really did it.โ€

Maggie blinked up at him, surprised. She had expected a lecture, but instead, there was a flicker of pride in his eyes. She glanced at Churro, who gave a soft grunt as if to say, โ€œWe made it together.โ€

Her father sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. โ€œI donโ€™t know what I would have done if something had happened to you, but you proved something today. This lodge means the world to you, doesnโ€™t it?โ€

Maggie nodded, her throat tight with emotion. โ€œItโ€™s our home.โ€

He smiled a tired but genuine smile. โ€œWell, I guess weโ€™ll have to figure out how to keep it. But from now on, no more solo llama adventures, okay?โ€

Maggie laughed, relief washing over her. โ€œDeal.โ€

Together, they unloaded the supplies, and as Maggie worked beside her father, she felt a deep sense of satisfaction. She had done it. She had shown him that the lodge, the llamas, and the mountains were as much a part of her as they were of him.

And as the pastel sunset faded over the Smokies, Maggie knew one thing for certain: the lodge would stay, and so would they.

Smoky Mountain pastel sunset

Read more Smoky Mountains stories.

Find Your Next Story

Related Stories

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

error: Content is protected !!