Great Smoky Mountains National Park - Forests, Bears, and Boars

Dogwood and Opossumwood
Of all the forests in the Great Smokies, one in particular seems to evoke a sense of awe: the broadleaf forest that claims the valleys and low mountain slopes with the richest soil, abundant sunshine, and just the right amount of rain. In those favored places, called coves, grow some of the largest trees, shrubs, and vines in the eastern United States. Among the astonishing variety of species, yellow poplars (or tulip trees), with trunks more than 20 feet around, are commonplace. Cucumber magnolias -- the "cucumber" is the fruit -- shade the woodland floor with leaves the size of platters. Wild cherries spread fruit-laden branches high above the forest floor, and scaly-barked old maples set the autumn air aglow with their gloriously colored leaves.

May is perhaps the finest time in the cove forest. As it awakens to returning warmth, green -- pale, delicate, soft green -- reclaims the forest from the browns and grays of winter. Dogwood and silverbell (opossumwood to those of a more zoological bent) come into their white-blossomed glory; lit up by the sun, they seem almost incandescent. On the forest floor, wildflowers weave lovely tapestries, with violets, white trilliums, and bluets randomly crowded between mossy logs and towering trees. Butterflies explore the various blooms, fragrances fill the air, and birdsong blends with the sound of water trickling from springs of cascading down creeks swollen with clear, sparkling snowmelt.

Farther up the slopes, where springtime arrives later, the trees are not so tall, straight, or widely spaced. Yellow birches, oaks, beeches, and buckeyes -- trees typical of southern New England or the Midwest -- mingle in this broadleaf forest. In the higher reaches the slopes sometimes appear covered with late snow as tiny white spring beauties bloom by the countless millions. Mixed with them are lemon-yellow trout lilies, large white trilliums, ruby-colored wake robins, and the tall green spires of false hellebore.

Of Bears and Boars
This green Eden once had wolves, elk, and bison roaming the slopes. Possibly gone now too is the cougar, or mountain lion, the great tawny cat that to many symbolizes the essence of wilderness. More than 50 years have passed since a cougar was killed, captured, or even photographed in the Smokies. Yet reports of sightings persist. And some claim to have heard their bloodcurdling screams in the night, a sound that once heard is never forgotten.

But if the cougar is more shadow than substance in these ancient hills, bears remain to beckon and reward. All the bears in the Smokies are black bears. Weighting up to 350 pounds, they have black fur, brown muzzles, and an unblinking gaze that seems to scrutinize everything. Bears are curious. Their greatest interest is in finding food, a job for which they depend on their highly sensitive noses. Shambling along, they look and they listen, but mainly they follow their noses, sniffing here, there, and everywhere. Anything that smells good to a bear, it wants to eat: honey, of course, but also berries, roots, and even carrion.

Most of the time bears move slowly, but if the need arises, even the slowest becomes a blur of fur. To see a fully grown individual shoot up a tree trunk with the agility of a squirrel is, to say the least, impressive. Bears learn at an early age to climb at their mother's command and to stay put until the all-clear signal is given. As adults, they use their tree-climbing skills to raid the hives of wild bees and to forage for fruits and nuts.

They take to the trees in winter too. Contrary to popular belief, bears in the Smokies most often den, not in a cave or hollow log but high in a cavity where a large old tree has lost a limb. They climb in, curl up, and settle down for a snooze that lasts from November until March. The bears do not actually hibernate. The heart rate does not slow down nor the body temperature drop as they do in woodchucks and other true hibernators. Bears simply sleep deeply, maintaining their life processes at only slightly reduced levels as they live on stored body fat.

Black bears mature at 2 years, and by the time a female is 3½ she is ready to mate. Cubs, usually twins, are born during the mother's winter sleep, normally in January or February. Blind, hairless creatures that weigh a mere eight ounces or so at birth, they grow steadily, nurtured by their mother's milk. By the time the mother is ready to leave the den, the cubs have grown to frolicsome, utterly appealing bundles of fur. They spend the next two years with the mother, learning the ways of the woods, and then finally are driven off to fend for themselves.

While bears are a natural part of the Great Smoky Mountain forest, European wild boars are another story: they were accidentally introduced into the park in the early 1920's, apparently when some escaped from a game preserve. Visitors are unlikely to see the boars; during the day they remain in hiding, alert for the slightest sound, testing the breezes for the scent of man. But evidence of their destructive activities is everywhere. Large, powerful animals with strong snouts and sharp tusks, these lanky, long-haired pigs wander the forests by night, wallowing in springs and streams and ripping up large tracts of land in search of food. As many as 2,000 of these bristly, animated bulldozers may be roaming the Great Smokies, but nobody really knows how many there are.