Saving the Land, Many Hoofprints at a Time

I'm relaxing on the back porch watching Spring overtake the Chilhowee Mountains – the very same mountain range you enjoy as a guest of Blackberry Farm. My perspective is unique in that my mentor, Mr. Willard Abbott, stared at this identical view for more than 30 years. And then he made it mine.

Mr. Abbott and I were leaning on the fence one Spring afternoon, visually taking in the mountain, when, at age 80, he handed the reins of his farm over to my husband John and me. We knew then that we were taking our place in the history of this valley called West Millers Cove. Now our home for nearly eight years, this small farm is only one mile from Blackberry Farm. We are connected to Blackberry's unique beauty and legacy — as we earn our living working with horses, on our land and at Blackberry Farm.

Mr. Abbott used our farm to make his way as a horseman, a trader, a craftsman of fine carriages. His father John Abbott was a blacksmith and a farmer of land now part of the national park. Their ways are now my ways. His land is my land.

Our methods are mostly old fashioned. Tonight I'll lead the horses up the lane to the barn, using a path that Mr. Abbott and I combined, with many faithful horses, have meandered for nearly half a century. Tomorrow I'll harness Rock, a big draft gelding, and hitch him to the carriage the way Mr. Abbott taught me, the way his father taught him. I'll travel these mountain roads and pathways to the gentle rhythm of a horse's hooves. My passengers and I will take in the visual majesty of the Smoky Mountains as Springtime explodes in the cove. We will revel in the simple way of travel, the turning spokes, clanking harness, horse sweat. Hoof beats.

The old Cherokee trade route of West Millers Cove winds through my farm and passes on to Blackberry. It bind us together physically and spiritually. The heritage of man and horse runs deep here, with countless hoofprints left before us.

This weekend we'll saddle up the riding horses and travel the same game trails used by Native Americans and the logging roads created by European settlers. This land is still vast and open, conserved by those who knew a meaningful life, who recognized that the land and horses were worth keeping. Because of their vision, and the instinct of people like Mr. Abbott, those of us chosen to preserve this mountain lifestyle have a chance of doing so. It is a privilege and an honor to continue to leave hoofprints by the streams and valleys, on clay pathways and rocky trails of our ancestors and our mentors. Join us in this heritage. Climb into the carriage. Put your foot in the stirrup. Together, let's give special thanks for their vision — and let's hope our generation inherits their wisdom — as we add to the hoofprints of this mountain cove.

– Carla Hawkinson, Equestrian Program Manager