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itsmeonmobile t1_it187cr wrote

As if it’s not enough that every westerner calls the Appalachians “not real mountains,” now you wanna take the name too?

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LydJaGillers t1_it18y6s wrote

Right! The Appalachians are just really really old mountains. Older than the Cascades. They the OG of mountains!

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pala4833 t1_it2xs6v wrote

They're older than the North American continent. Bits of the same mountains are in Scotland and West Africa.

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Calamity_Jesus t1_it2jv4k wrote

Ackchyually... OP is attempting to name them after the National Forest Service anti-fire mascot. The word for an area infested with smoke is 'smoky'.

The Great Smoky Mountains

Smokey the Bear.

That said, since this is the kind of pedantic nonsense people don't care to commit to memory, we could go with the absurd option: call them The Misty (or Steamy) Mountains.

The Great Smokies are named due to the daily mists rising out of what's technically a temperate rainforest. We may as well equally misrename the Cascades so that generations can scratch their head in bemusement. (Yes, I know that parts of the Cascades are temperate rainforests as well.. but the Smokies don't have a dry season).

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CaptainBillyum t1_it1cbnz wrote

Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away ere break of day

To seek the pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,

While hammers fell like ringing bells

In places deep, where dark things sleep,

In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lord

There many a gleaming golden hoard

They shaped and wrought, and light they caught

To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung

The flowering stars, on crowns they hung

The dragon-fire, in twisted wire

They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the misty mountains cold

To dungeons deep and caverns old

We must away, ere break of day,

To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carved there for themselves

And harps of gold; where no man delves

There lay they long, and many a song

Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The pines were roaring on the height,

The winds were moaning in the night.

The fire was red, it flaming spread;

The trees like torches blazed with light.

The bells were ringing in the dale

And men they looked up with faces pale;

The dragon’s ire more fierce than fire

Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The mountain smoked beneath the moon;

The dwarves they heard the tramp of doom.

They fled their hall to dying fall

Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the misty mountains grim

To dungeons deep and caverns dim

We must away, ere break of day,

To win our harps and gold from him!

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homecookedcouple t1_it1ekl1 wrote

I just listened to this on audiobook narrated by Andy Serkis and it was perhaps my favorite way I have ever consumed the story.

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Mroogaboog t1_it1adry wrote

I think that name might be taken

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thearchiguy t1_it1g5sw wrote

I mean, our state did take the name of a rather famous city out east, not far from the Appalachians. What's another one.

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pala4833 t1_it2xkoc wrote

Came back over Hwy 20 yesterday. Horrible.

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PartDirect t1_it17v13 wrote

But the smoky mountains are technically every mountain range west of the Rockies now until the end of time. This summer was the coldest summer for the rest of your life.

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