Mist obscuring a bend in the Tennessee River; a long, high bluff on the other side; pink sky; in the distance, the squat cones of the Smokies. If Northwest Airlines hadn’t lost my suitcase, leaving me with nothing but jeans and Rockports, I’d be out exploring right now, pounding along the river in my best imitation of a morning run. But even from my hotel window I can tell that all the folks who sent me emails about Eastern Tennessee yesterday were right. This is lush country.