The Dream, The Challenge, The People
by Bob Kranich
(Excerpt 8)
“The Lodge Called Folkestone”. You may wonder why the first half of the book is about my many adventures throughout the USA. Well, this first part explains just why my interests changed from hot rodding cars to backpacking. How the idea of a lodge came about, and just how the lodge came to be in North Carolina and next to the Smoky Mountain National Park, Deep Campground to be exact.
We started to add the orphanage to our visits after we did our high school teaching. We had many activities and lots of fun with the orphanage children. We didn’t have much money, so we had to dream up other ways we could help. We visited, we played with the kids, and we took at times, as many as eight of them to town with us to eat a meal. We even convinced the mess hall (lunch facility) cooks’ supervisor at Camp Ames to give us all the milk they didn’t use. Then our group’s sergeant let us use one of our army trucks to take it to the orphanage.
Our grand finale was a surprise Christmas party. We wrote to our moms back in the states, and they got people to donate clothes and toys. Lots of things came in. In fact, because we got so many packages from the United States, our sergeant gave us a room in the motorpool to store all of the items. We had a Santa Claus suit made by a local Korean tailor to fit one of our fellow soldiers, and predecorated a Christmas tree. Then we got an army truck, loaded the presents and tree in it, and rolled into the orphanage early on Christmas morning. It was great fun.
There was an additional hike I went on. Back in the summer, I took a two-week vacation and did as I was required to do, per Army requirements. I signed out to visit a city, and then went to that city. I proceeded to buy a ticket on a small Korean airliner, and flew to a Korean tourist island off the coast of Korea, next to Japan. Jeju Island is an island that was made by a volcano many years ago. It is now extinct. I arrived by the small airliner, and hiked out of the city following the road that skirts the beaches and shores. I would camp out wherever I was at night. I had an army sleeping bag with me. One night, a local person even let me sleep in a small school. The scenery of the steep cliffs, waterfalls, and secluded beaches was stunning.
I regret that I wasn’t able to do any reading up on the island before I went, because I saw concrete World War II aircraft shelters of the Japanese Air Force. I even saw where a steep rock cliff was hollowed out for World War II gun emplacements. When I got halfway around the island, I met a businessman and his guide. They said that they were going to hike across the extinct volcano. They said that I could go with them. The hike over the volcano took two days. The first day we made it almost to the top, where we stayed in a very small shelter. The second day we walked around the rim, and then down the other side.
When I was ready to leave, I came upon a small military, grass strip airfield. It was shared by both the Korean and the U. S. Army. There was a radar site there run by the U. S. Army. I stopped in, and got permission for a hop back to the mainland. The plane that was leaving next was going exactly where I needed to go, Osan Airfield, on the mainland. I was about to experience some more excitement. The plane was an old Korean Air Force two motor DC3. We loaded up, it taxied out to take off, and then came back to the tower. They had us all unload, and for two hours they worked on the right engine. I was standing there when they started it up, and the copilot did a thumbs up. We reloaded, it took off, and I got to Osan.
January came, and I got my orders to return to the United States. I was ahead of Clement in leaving because I was a two-year draftee, and he was a three-year volunteer. I got back to Kimpo Airfield, and took the big Northwest Orient “Red Tail” back home. I had some regrets because it had been a great adventure. I had made lots of friends. But after all, I looked forward to going home and leaving the U. S. Army!
Preparing for My First Hike in the Smokies
I was out of the army and back home. Home, meaning I was living in my mom and dad’s small camper trailer that was parked in their driveway. I found out that I didn’t have to join a military unit for inactive duty. It seems that during the Vietnam era, there had been so many soldiers drafted, all of the reserve and national guard units were full. So basically, I could just get on with the rest of my life, the way it had been before I had been drafted.
I decided that the first thing I needed to do was get some wheels. I had a friend, Robert Hoy, who was from my old hot rodding days. He was into cars, all kinds of them. He was also still into hot rods and speed parts. It seems that he had built a four-car garage, and it was just filled up with all kinds of old car parts and speed goodies.
I went over to his location, and asked him what he had for sale. “Well, Bob, you may like this 1957 Ford Ranchero I’ve got out back.”
We went around to the back of his garage, and there it sat, an old blue Ford Ranchero with some grey primer on its scratches.
I asked, “Does it run ok?”
He said, “Yep, sure does. In fact, I drove it for some time myself. It’s got a small Ford V8 in it, and a three-speed standard shift conversion on the floor. The only thing is, look at it, 1958 in the front with the quad headlights, and 1957 in the rear, with the single taillights and fins. I started doing some body work on it. That’s why the grey primer.”
“Why the ’57-’58?” I asked.
“Don’t know,” he replied, “I think that sometimes Ford used just what they had laying around, or this was a ’57 and one half, or someone changed the front end. You know, it would have fit on the ’57 body.”
“Robert, I like it. How much do you want for it?”
“$250 and it’s yours,” he replied.
It was a done deal, and I was now the proud owner of, on title at least, a ’57 Ford Ranchero. I thought I was real cool. It didn’t have any air, but the side window vents worked fine. I found out later that it didn’t take much to keep the inside of the small cab warm. A real plus when I got out of Florida on my hikes. You win some, and you lose some!
I got back to work. I applied to the same Honeywell aerospace company I had worked for back in 1963. It was across the Tampa Bay, and my Ranchero worked well enough to get me back and forth. While I was working there, I saved up some money. Then I started shopping around Tampa at some army surplus stores for hiking equipment. I first bought an old army surplus ski pack. I thought that it hugged my back real fine. I was later to learn that this was not what I needed. Then I bought an army canteen complete with a nestle cup. I needed an army pistol belt that you could hook the canteen pouch and various other items to it, so I got it also.
I also started looking at some brochures I had obtained about the Smoky Mountain National Park. I started thinking about hiking in the park. I had even sent off to purchase the U. S. Geological Survey maps of both the Bryson City and Clingmans Dome Quadrangles.
Then I remembered the guy I had met on Monte Sano mountain in Huntsville, Alabama, when I was in the army, Al Watson. He had given me his phone number, and I looked around in my old stuff and found it.
From the Author:
This is a new book. It is about the Lodge I built in the Smoky Mountains, near Bryson City, and Deep Creek campground, North Carolina. Having been from Florida, I know that a lot of Floridians love to visit the Smoky Mountains National Park. Therefore hopefully you will enjoy my story of the building of “A Lodge Called Folkestone”.
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