It was just a few miles up the park road to my next stop. The sun was out, but the mists that gave the Smoky Mountains their name was still clinging to the slopes, and tourists were gathered at every pull-off to snap pictures of postcard views. Next up was a walk up a mountain trail, about seven miles in length. There were a lot of people here despite it being a weekday, but I figured the majority would not get past the first mile marker, and this proved to be so. Steep climbs quickly weed out the couch potatoes.

The trail followed a stream tumbling down the mountainside, providing ample opportunities for salamandering. Down on the lower slopes I was finding a number of Desmognathus fuscus santeetlah, the Santeetlah Dusky Salamander, along with a few Blackbellies. I got nipped by one of the Blackbellies; they are the bulldogs of the streamside salamander tribes. They give a pretty good pinch for a squishy amphibian.

As I climbed, the rhododendron forest thinned, and in places where the slope leveled off there were grassy wet meadows with rocks and fallen logs. Here I found more Imitators, but these specimens had either yellow or orange cheek markings rather than the scarlet seen earlier in the day. Redcheeks were here too, but they remained unchanged.

I also found a rather curious salamander, a large one with light mottled markings on the forward half of the body, with a dark and unmarked 'aft end'. I couldn't key it out in the field, or later at home; I had to ask some salamander experts for help. It turned out to be an old adult Ocoee Salamander, Desmognathus ocoee.

There was a slow but steady stream of hikers up and down the trail as I went, and if I happened to be taking photographs at the time, a number of people would stop and see what was up. It's fairly safe to say that anyone you meet two miles up a mountainside has more than a passing interest in nature, and often when I stop and talk with folks, they've got a story to tell about why they're out there. Some may have started walking or hiking for their health, or to see a spectacular view; they end up getting pulled in deeper by the whole outdoor experience. A trout fisherman told me he grew to enjoy the six mile hike at daybreak as much as the fishing.

Onwards and upwards...I reached a switchback in the trail, and here a narrow, wet meadow continued upwards while the trail jinked to the right. A couple small trickles worked their way down through the meadow, with rocks scattered along their course. I had worked a number of spots that looked like good habitat for Spring or Mud Salamanders, and this place looked very promising as well. I caught a flash of yellow under the first stone I lifted, and managed to slap hands over the creature. It was a Blue Ridge Twolined Salamander, and what a specimen! I had seen a few on the trip already, but none were as nice as this one. The ground color was a bright gold-yellow, with two thick black stripes running laterally along the sides, and peppered with black spots between the stripes along the dorsum. This salamander alone was worth the long climb up the mountain.

Under the very next rock was another brightly colored salamander, but this one was orange - a Spring Salamander! This was a Blue Ridge Spring Salamander, Gryinophilus porphyriticus danielsi. One of the characteristics of Spring Salamanders is a raised ridge that travels between each eye and the tip of the snout. G.p. danielsi features a light line along this ridge, with a dark line immediately beneath, and white spots along the jaw. This was a new subspecies for me, so I was happy to examine this specimen and take pictures. It was not the most cooperative subject, and I had to use cover plates to keep the animal contained while setting up for shots. More than once I had to clean the animal off with my water bottle, after it would wriggle away into the substrate. It is certainly a lot more difficult to wrangle and shoot herps all by your lonesome.

I turned up no more salamanders here, and unfortunately I needed to turn around at this point. The afternoon was getting on, and I still had to travel to the eastern edge of the Smokies today, where I was slated to camp that night.