After a late start Saturday morning, we drove to Bryson City via Cherokee. Bryson City is a neat town, but was a bit too crowded for us. Consequently, we did not stop and walk around, but drove the main city streets. Except for it being larger, population wise, it reminded me of the town where I grew up, which is now only a shadow of what it used to be. Bradford, AR, was a vibrant country town in the 1950s when folks would come from their farms and rural places for all day shopping, mainly for groceries and visiting. The sidewalks were full and the main street was busy. Update to 2020, and you have Bryson City—except there was no pandemic and no need for masks in 1950s Bradford; only the fear of polio. 

From Bryson City we drove to Sylva. With 2,500 people, Sylva was larger than Bryson City, and though considered an historic town, appears to be modern and thriving with small businesses and fast food restaurants.

Again, we drove the main city streets, and then departed for Maggie Valley. As is now the custom, it began raining in the late afternoon and rained hard for two or three hours, preventing sitting outside for adult beverages.