PIGEON FORGE — There are three things you are told to remember when you move to Sevier County: Learn to like pancakes, visit Dollywood on a Sunday afternoon to avoid the crowds, and stay away from Pigeon Forge on rod run days.

The first two make sense, but not to experience a rod run is like never tasting cotton candy or seeing Cades Cove in winter. You can grab a spot along the Parkway, unfold your chair and watch it roll by, or you can get your vehicle in line and drive it. I decided to drive it Saturday in my 2000 Ford Ranger pickup.

When it comes to a rod run, you either like it or hate it. Sort of the way people feel about Simon Cowell. Or Dick Cheney.

It is a spectacle, to be sure. Think “America Graffiti” and a Mecum auto auction. From one end of the Parkway almost to the river bridge at the Sevierville line, you’ll see hundreds — maybe thousands — of old cars, motorcycles, dune buggys and more. If they aren’t in the procession driving by, they are parked everywhere else. This is not an exhibition. Many of the cars are for sale, though it’s hard to know how many sales are made.

If you want to watch, stake out your position earlier in the week. Most people use those folding sports-type chairs that can be compressed like an umbrella. Traditional lawn chairs seem as outdated as VCRs and Atari games.

If you drive, be prepared for a slow ride. Think Neyland Stadium traffic after a triple-overtime win over Florida. It took me 25 minutes to drive from Dollywood Lane to Old Mill. One reason is that I stayed on the outside lane, where people gawk and the old vehicles. The other two lanes move more quickly. But hey, going so slow allows you to take it all in.

The sights are Americana of the highest order. Lots of families, with fathers showing old cars to their children. The tales they must be telling…

The modes of transportation for those not in cars range from electric bicycles to fancy golf carts to motorized scooters to unicycles to the one way of getting around you hardly ever see: walking. Anything that gets people out of their chairs and onto their feet is a good thing.

I saw a black and white Volkswagen bug on a trailer, with “Gran Ma’s Surf Shop, Paradise USA” painted on the door. It was being towed by a yellow pickup with “Free Bird” on the back window.

A 1936 red and black Dodge, resting on a trailer, is for sale for $10,000 or best offer.

One woman is riding a bicycle with a cage on the back holding two dogs and a basket on the front with a third dog. Strapped to the back seat are two boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Now what’s that all about?

The thing to remember about a rod run is that for the most part everybody is happy. Hot, but happy. Drivers are quick to make space for incoming traffic. Car owners are delighted to tell visitors about their special car. People leave their folding chairs unattended, knowing they’ll be safe and right there when they return.

There are many people who detest rod runs and wish they’d go away. Maybe if those naysayers would experience one, and see the thousands of people in tow, the “no vacancy” signs on hotels, the crowds in the curio shops and T-shirt stores, they’d think differently. Of course it’s possible they have been to a rod run and that’s why they hate them. It is an acquired taste.

Don’t like ’em? Follow the advice I got when I moved here and stay away. But before you close the door — or hood — on them, experience it one more time. It’s free, it’s fun, and the exhaust fumes just might give you a real high.

svoit@themountainpress.com