Gatlinburg is a shock to the system from whichever angle you survey it, but never more so than when you descend upon it from a spell of moist, grubby isolation in the woods. It sits just outside the main entrance to Great Smoky Mountains National Park and specializes in providing all those things that the park does not – principally, slurpy food, motels, gift shops, and sidewalks on which to waddle and dawdle – nearly all of it strewn along a single, astoundingly ugly main street.