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Thanks for joining me on Part 2 of my journey from Florida to Wisconsin in Spring 2024. If you missed Part 1, you can catch up here.
But First, a Crash Course in Rolling with a Tow Dolly
(Not literally, thank goodness!)
When I bought my Winnebago, I didn’t have a car. My maiden voyage from Wisconsin to Florida was a solo RV marathon of back-to-back, insane single-day mileage that was a “never again” kind of experience. (You can read about that misadventure here.)
The plan had been to buy a car in Florida and figure out the towing situation at some point thereafter. Fine. Great! It gives me plenty of time to decide: to flat tow or to tow dolly?
I chose a Chevy Sonic—a lightweight, flat-towable mini car that seemed like the perfect partner for my RV escapades (It’s even blue to match the Winnie!). Why? Because Google had me believing that purchasing a tow dolly and installing flat-tow equipment would be relatively equivalent at about $1500. The actual cost of flat-tow installation? A jaw-dropping $4,000. My little Chevy wasn’t even worth $4,000. The math wasn’t mathing.
The USA Trailer Store 1434 Poinsett Hwy, Greenville, SC
Committed now to this little, turbocharged car, I pivoted to Plan B: a tow dolly. After much research (and a fair amount of swearing at conflicting reviews), I landed on the EZ Haul Stand Up Idler Car Tow Dolly from the USA Trailer Store. It wasn’t the cheapest option but had a unique selling point—it could stand upright for easy storage. While I haven’t had to use this feature yet (shoutout to campgrounds with pull-through sites and generous storage space), it felt good to have the option.
Another big selling point? I could pick it up in person from the USA Trailer Store in Greenville, SC. This was huge for a newbie like me. Having someone walk me through the tow dolly setup felt like the kind of hand-holding I could admit to needing.
Let me paint you a picture of this location: The USA Trailer Store is in a very “keep your head on a swivel” part of town. As a solo woman, the vibe wasn’t great. (Future adventurers, take note: Bring a friend, or at least channel your best “don’t mess with me” face.)
Despite the surroundings, the folks at the store were friendly and patient. They showed me the ropes—or rather, the ramps, straps, and chains. By the end of the walkthrough, I was feeling downright confident.
The dolly itself has been great so far. It’s lightweight enough for me to move around solo (more so when the ramps are off), and the setup process is straightforward once you get the hang of it. Of course, I had to buy a few extra bits to make everything work smoothly. In case you’re interested:
- TowSmart Adjustable Ball Mount
- 2” tow ball
- Extra trailer hitch pin & clip
- CURT 6-Way Blade To 4-Way Flat Wiring Adapter
With my shiny new setup, I was ready to hit the road. Little did I know, this tow dolly and I were about to have some moments.
But hey, no adventure starts without a little drama, right?
Picture this: Me, a Winnebago, a tow dolly, and my car, merrily cruising down the highway, jamming to Jammin’ by Marley, happy because this towing thing really was as easy as it seemed.
That is until I rolled into the campground in Gatlinburg and began reversing the steps I’d followed earlier to secure the car to the dolly. That’s when I truly grasped how wrong towing could go. My car wasn’t just stuck on the dolly—it had trapped itself. The tires had rolled onto the strap hooks, locking them in place, AND the safety chains had pulled so taut they might as well have been welded. Unable to move it forward or backward, I was honestly convinced the Army Corps of Engineers would have thrown up their hands in defeat.
Now, I’d listened to the guy at the USA Trailer Store like I was cramming for finals. I even insisted on doing everything myself while he watched. (“Independent woman” energy was strong that day.) But here I was, the car firmly secured in place, and I had no clue how to begin getting it unsecured.
That didn’t mean I didn’t try. I got out the jack from the spare tire kit in the trunk. It did a great job of putting the whole situation into a fresh angle—just enough to let me admire how well-secured it really was.
Then, this guy showed up—a friendly, casual observer of my predicament. Like a scene out of a reality TV show, he listened to my frantic explanation, nodded solemnly, and then whipped out—wait for it—a chain cutter.
What?
Is there a Camping Essentials List somewhere with
“chain cutter” on it that I missed?
But you know what? I didn’t care. I wasn’t about to question my knight in flannel. Together, we snipped the safety chains, nudged the car forward just enough to liberate the front tires, and finally freed it from the dolly’s evil clutches. I was honestly on the verge of crying tears of joy, but I was too busy awkwardly thanking him while simultaneously trying not to look like I was Googling, “Do campers normally carry chain cutters?”
Of course, this incident taught me a lesson—or rather, several. First, my car apparently has wanderlust. No matter how tightly I strap it to the dolly, it shifts just enough to cause chaos. I invested in a Club Twin Hook Steering Wheel Lock to address this. (Fun fact: I later discovered in the manual that this particular brand of tow dolly requires a locking steering wheel. My Sonic, while flat-towable, does not have one. Sigh.)
Second, those straps? They need to be hooked so wide it’s practically a yoga pose so the tires don’t wind up on top of them. (USA Trailer Guy, you were thorough but left me hanging on that one.)
At least, while this was the start of my adventures in Gatlinburg, things only got better (and way less weird) from there.
Dudley Creek RV Resort, 1640 East Pkwy, Gatlinburg, TN
Dudley Creek RV Resort in Gatlinburg was a delightful surprise. We landed site 48, a premium corner site tucked away on the quiet backside of the campground. Nestled along the creek that runs the length of the property, our site bordered a grassy field belonging to a neighboring business. The space felt expansive, with plenty of room for our car, tow dolly, lawn chairs, and grill. It was the kind of setup that made settling in easy and relaxing.
As a newer RV resort, Dudley Creek felt fresh and well-maintained. Thanks to the resort’s “new kid on the block” status at the time, we lucked out with an amazing rate for their premium creek-side sites. Everything about the infrastructure reflected its newness, including the spotless and stylish bathhouse. And there are wood-carved bears everywhere: perched in trees, adorning site signposts, and scattered as whimsical artwork throughout the campground.
Though all sites are back-in, they’re spacious and thoughtfully designed. Each boasts large fire rings and sturdy, quality picnic tables, with hookups precisely where you’d expect them—no awkward reaching or struggling with hoses and cords here. The layout is as functional as it is attractive.
If I had one critique, it’s the landscaping. Despite the inviting green on their campground map, the park’s aesthetic leans heavily on tan, brown, and black landscaping stones. While the blend of sizes and colors is artfully installed and undeniably tidy, it creates a harsh surface that isn’t the friendliest for bare feet or paws. The sharp stones can make it challenging for those traveling with kids or pets to play or roam comfortably. While the resort does have some mature trees, much of the landscaping is still new and will take years to soften the overall look and feel of the grounds.
That said, Dudley Creek RV Resort has a lot to offer—cleanliness, charm, and a peaceful atmosphere—all in an ideal location. It’s just down the road from Gatlinburg’s bustling main drag and within a do-able drive to Dollywood in Pigeon Forge, making it a perfect base for exploring the area. If you don’t mind a more polished, less rustic vibe, it’s a fantastic place to park your RV and soak in the beauty of the Smokies.
Great Smoky Mountains Railroad Nantahala Gorge Excursion, 45 Mitchell St, Bryson City, NC
All Aboard for Scenic Views and Laughter!
The coolest thing we did during our stay in Gatlinburg, TN, was the Nantahala Gorge Excursion on the Great Smoky Mountains Railroad. Thanks to our wildly entertaining car attendant, it was part scenic adventure, part history lesson, and unexpectedly, part comedy show.
The day started with an hour-and-a-half drive along the winding US-441 through the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Mid-April painted the landscape with the bright greens of spring, with creeks gurgling cheerfully alongside us as we passed trailheads, cave tours, and the occasional wild turkey strutting like it owned the road. As we climbed steadily higher, the views became increasingly jaw-dropping—first at Newfound Gap, where the horizon stretched endlessly, and then at the Charles A. Webb Overlook, where I nearly drove us off the road (Sorry, dude in the black Accord!).
We cruised through Cherokee, NC, nestled on the Cherokee Nation reservation, and though we didn’t stop, it was clear the town had plenty to offer. Museums, shops selling handmade Cherokee crafts, casinos, and inviting trails begged for more exploration—but we had a train to catch!
Bryson City greeted us with the quiet hum of Sunday morning punctuated by the bustling excitement of train passengers gathering at the depot. After snapping a few photos, we climbed aboard the Catamount car to enjoy our First-Class experience. Think big windows, dining chairs we could angle for optimal view adjustments, and—most importantly—climate control. It was brisk that day, so we were thrilled to sip hot coffee from our souvenir mugs while gliding through the gorgeous North Carolina countryside.
Now, about our car attendant. A former river raft guide turned train steward, he elevated the journey from a “relaxing ride” to a “rolling stand-up comedy show.” Between refilling drinks and sharing local history, he regaled us with hysterical stories from his rafting days. There was the time he got bucked off the raft and had to swim after his clients while shouting reassurances. Or the time he pretended to drown a child (don’t worry, he was using the ‘duck under’ technique to leverage buoyancy and get the kid more easily back onboard). His tales brought our car to life, with everyone chuckling and swapping grins over the rim of their mugs.
The scenery was, of course, stunning. We meandered along the Tuckasegee River, where kids wielded fishing nets with the fierce determination of amateur biologists and life-preserver-clad adults—clearly enduring some corporate team-building purgatory—flung themselves down the white rapids, shrieking with a mix of terror and contractual obligation to “build trust.”
Onward we went, passing through the Nantahala State Forest, where towering trees climbed the hillside. Down in the valleys, quaint, Hallmark-movie-worthy villages basked in the morning sun.
The layover at the Nantahala Outdoor Center was a hive of activity. Picture this: a dozen rugged men who looked like they’d been lost in the wild for weeks (and smelled like it, too), mingling with international tourists, school groups, and retirees. Yet, the place had not felt overcrowded, thanks to its sprawling layout across both sides of the gorge. While some folks grabbed snacks or souvenirs, others launched into whitewater rafting, paddleboarding, or hiking. We took it easy, indulging in cocktails while lounging in Adirondack chairs on the river’s shore, savoring the views and marveling at the eclectic mix of visitors.
Back aboard, our attendant continued to sprinkle in bits of history, from the area’s Native American roots to the development of the train itself. But mostly, he talked about rafting—a lot about rafting.
It was as if every historical event was a segue to a new water safety tip. “Of course, the railroads were pivotal in the region’s development… but more importantly, folks, this part of the river is considered class three, which is intermediate in difficulty, not expert level, but still requires a certain level of skill and experience.” And off he would go.
During the latter half of the journey, a musician boarded at the Nantahala Outdoor Center and treated us to some Johnny Cash—a perfect finishing touch!
Pro tip: If you’re considering this trip, given the stop at the Nantahala Outdoor Center, I didn’t feel the First-Class experience was worth it. The main differentiator was the meal, as other, less expensive class experiences include the souvenir mug (if you must have it!), the car attendant, and bar service. My travel companion found the food decent, but for those on a plant-based diet, fair warning: the vegan option was essentially lettuce and onions—not exactly worth the splurge. Since the layover restaurants offer solid vegan options, like black bean hummus and a vegan burger (along with other appetizing omnivorous choices) for less money, I’d recommend going that route.
By the time we returned, Bryson City had mostly closed down, but we managed to poke around a couple of boutiques. The shopkeepers were delightful, haggling like pros and adding a fun finale to our day.
The return drive back to the Winnie was pure magic. The reds, pinks, and oranges of the descending sun jazzed up the moody shades of blue, purple, and gray of the Smokies, and we got lucky with wildlife sightings—elk grazing by the roadside and a mama bear with her two cubs, which we caught on camera.
IMHO, the Nantahala Gorge Excursion is a must-do if you’re in the area, and I would definitely pay to do it again—just like several other passengers, some of whom were experiencing the train ride for the dozen time!
Gatlinburg & Pigeon Forge
Downtown Gatlinburg quickly won me over. Tucked snugly in a valley between the Smoky Mountains’ rolling hills, it offered stunning views from every angle. Shopping? Yes, please! Whether you’re looking to splurge or just window shop, there’s something for every wallet. And let’s not forget the bars and restaurants.
We wandered into Jason Aldean’s and paid a small fortune for drinks that could’ve been served in plastic cups. After scanning the menu and realizing there was nothing even remotely close to a vegan option (and after eyeing the price tag on a veggie-less nacho platter), we decided to make our escape.
That’s when we stumbled upon one of my favorite Gatlinburg finds: a shop where you could take photos with exotic birds. The birds weren’t for sale but part of a cleverly decorated shop. The walls were painted with tropical scenes, so you could snap a picture with the birds and pretend you weren’t standing in the Smokies but in Aruba. It was like a mini-vacation within a vacation—and totally Instagram-worthy, too.
And speaking of the weather—Gatlinburg treated us to its finest mountain mood swings. One minute, it was pouring cats and dogs, and the next? Bam—sunshine. We got good at ducking into shops and bars during the rainy spells and strolling down the main drag during the sunny breaks, embracing the bizarre weather and all its glory.
Now, onto Pigeon Forge. Maybe it was because we skipped Dollywood (I know, I know, I’m a rebel), but to me, Pigeon Forge was just…meh. Sure, there were a few distilleries where you could sample moonshine and some shops selling Native American-themed merchandise. But aside from that, it was just an ordinary town sitting on top of a plateau with absolutely no scenic views. Not exactly the place for a Facebook photo op, you know?
After four nights at Dudley Creek RV Resort (shoutout to the friendly folks there), it was time to pack up and roll on to Lexington, KY. But hey, Gatlinburg, you were a real gem, and I’ll definitely be back someday—preferably when I’ve augmented my drink budget!
