Eight Tons of Wet, Slippery Fun!

We're in Fall Creek Falls State Park, TN. Getting here was ALL the fun!
I'm not a mountain person. Hell, I'm not a hill person. I knew we were going to have trouble when the temperature alarm started to sputter.
I had looked at the route that Google Maps and the GPS said was shortest and adjusted it using a terrain overlay map to take the worst grades out. US 127 and TN111 are the truck routes. Nice wide shoulders in most places and four lanes much of the way, but there isn't much that can be done about the mountains. Long steep grades are bad for engines going up and going down.
Once we got on 111 the fun starts. First couple of grades were no sweat, then we started the long slow haul up.
The Holiday Rambler weighs over seven tons dry and is powered by huge Chevy 454 carburetted with a Rochester 4-barrel. And we're towing a 700 pound dolly with a Prius on it. All up around eight tons of rolling thunder.
And I don't DO mountains! This is the first time I've ever been off an Interstate highway in the verticals.
Now I understand why the big trucks get up insane speed in the bottoms. They need to get as far up the mountain with gravity helping as they can. Once the pull of Earth's core hooks into my recreational equipment, speed goes way down.
The pedal is welded to the floor, big four barrel pouring money and air down to eight bucket-sized pistons screaming up and down amid the explosions results in 27 miles an hour!
And the coolant is getting hot! I never thought of the water temperature gauge as particularly responsive or critical, but I'm getting a new one for the top of the dash and a transmission temp gauge and oil cooler too! Anything to cool this reactor down.
The temp gauge starts visibly moving towards that red rectangle of danger and then I find a new feature that Holiday Rambler built into my coach. A red "Temp" light and buzzing horn!
By the time we started hearing the horn, I could see the end of the climb. Pushed it through both times.
And just like sex, once it's over, things relax fast. I know the cooling system is in good shape because as soon as the load is off, the temp comes down withing fifteen seconds.
I've learned to kill the airconditioner, but I forgot the trick of turning on the heaters and using them as auxiliary radiators.
Coming out of here, I'm going to dismount the Prius until I hit US127 (around 40 miles).
Now for the slippery part!
Tennessee may be the Indian word for "rinky-dink"! (George, calm down!) In other states they're all over signs telling you the grade, and warning RV's and heavy trucks to take another route. Not here!
Once we got off 111, there were the usual brown, reflective direction signs into the park. Inside the park, they use wooden signs with routed-out 2-inch letters painted white. That's not a really bad thing, until they make the sign 4x8 feet and covered completely in letters and arrows. Two at each intersection. One points down each road telling you everything that's there. And I mean everything!
Approaching the intersection, even at low speed, you don't have enough time to read both signs completely before you start your turn. And towing means a turn is a commitment on the order of marriage vows or taking a commission in the Russian Navy! You can't back out of any of them!
So we committed to the long route inside the park. Saw the fire tower and the riding stables. And then we collided with the road. These are paved "all-weather" roads through deep gullies in high majestic forests. Some of the roads don't see much sun and have algae growing on them. Throw a bike down in a Milli-second.
And they stop my fun immediately! This "bottom" was like a folded piece of paper, down then up. And on a curve, too! No hope of building speed to coast up the other side.
When the dually's lost traction, my primary concern was sliding sideways in the heavy rain.
I got my left foot on the brake, loaded up the torque converter and modulated power to the wheels with the brakes while steering for the middle of the road. Out of the slick-worn tracks and straddling the relatively clean and pointy macadam in the center. It worked and squalling and bucking, up that hill we went!
Later, when the cute teenage girl at registration gave us a park map, I could see that that last six miles went around the perimeter of the park. If I had gone straight for two miles of reasonably flat road I'd have avoided the problem.
Guess which way I'm going out?