North Carolina & Tennesee
23 May 2024
The Blue Ridge Parkway (BRP) starts in the Shenandoah National Park in Virginia and runs for 469 miles through North Carolina, ending in the Great Smoky Mountains in Tennessee. It follows the spine of the Blue Ridge, a major mountain chain that is part of the Appalachian range. Like the Pacific Coast Highway in California, BRP is part of the enduring legacy of massive public works programs commissioned in the 1930’s. And like Fallingwater, the chances of anything similar ever being built again are nil.
I join it about halfway down near Sparta, at the end of the Elk Creek Parkway. Itself no mean road, this runs forty miles south of Wytheville, jinking back and forth, following streams, skirting hills and entertaining from start to finish.
BRP has been the most visited part of the National Parks System every year since it was opened in 1946, and with good reason. As a road, it is superb with a flawless surface and verges mown for six feet or so from the curb to give those critical extra yards of visibility when hammering down it on two wheels.
Keeping it immaculate means that at any one time, large sections are closed, but when there are nearly 500 miles to go at, it really is no big deal.
The section I rode does not have spectacular views per se or, at least, not ones easy to photograph dramatically as the vista is one, vast emerald forest. It didn’t help that on the day I rode it, it was completely overcast which turned into the odd spectacular downpour from time to time.
Towards Asheville is the ‘Little Switzerland’ region I was looking forward to seeing but the name is pure marketing hyperbole. Other than a couple of chalet-style buildings, the only authentic Swiss touches are over-priced accommodation and a sign informing you of all the things you’re not allowed to do.
All of this is distinct from the fact the BRP is one of the great roads and a must for the committed driver or biker. The only reason for joining BRP halfway down was to see Fallingwater and I didn’t have time to backtrack. Having done that, next time I’ll be doing the full length but taking three days over it. It’s not a fast road, but one to savour.
I'm staying in Whyeville, the second of five 'villes', and the Beaucatcher Motel is what you need at the end of a hot day. Clean, ice-box chilled and a short walk from 'The Hound' a newish and excellent pub. There’s a raft of OK-to-good eating and drinking places here that are pitched just right price-wise, equidistant between budget and the excesses of Philadelphia and Washington.
24 May 2024
‘The Gambler’ is the first of five named roads I discovered when looking for the famous ‘Tail of the Dragon’ that I’ll do tomorrow.
Finding the start of it is a thirty-mile trek north, away from BRP and with it, the scenery becomes less lush and more backwater. More like depicted in innumerable country & western songs, even down to faded Texaco signs and trucks up on cinder blocks, missing all their wheels.
‘The Gambler’ is so named as it runs through communities with names such as ‘Bluff', ‘Trust’, and ‘Luck’ and a very fine 25-miles stretch it is too. It is also apt as the twisty section south of Luck is a partial guessing game of which way the road will turn, given many of the corners are blind.
If you’ve ever been on the Nordschleife at the Nurburgring, it’s like that but mercifully much slower, and without two hundred testosterone-charged Germans for company.
On a fully-laden sports tourer made a few pounds heavier by a rider who has just wolfed down a superfluous but delicious oat & cream cookie with his coffee, it requires real physical effort to navigate.
The final few miles of BRP are from near Balsam to north of Cherokee, before it becomes the evocatively named Smokey Mountain Pass. It’s probably the best bit of BRP I’ve been on but looking at the map, all the roads in the area seem to follow a similar profile, so no doubt similar. It is bordering on an embarrassment of riches.
The natural splendour of the Smokey Mountains gives way to 10-miles of gaudy tat the other side of Gatlinburg.
Like me, you’ve probably heard of ‘Dollywood’, a theme park associated with Dolly Parton. Possibly like me also, you’ve never had any intention of going nor knowing where it is.
Well, it’s on the edge of Pidgeon Ford and in comparison to the nasty collection of fast-food joints, motels and fairground-style attractions of the town, looks relatively classy from the outside.
Up the road is my overnight stop in Sevierville, where the great chanteuse was born, and is commemorated with a statue by the town hall. The rest of the town is smart and orderly but ‘The Appalachian’ restaurant did not quite live up to its $100-a-head promise.
25 May 2024
At 09:00, Sevierville is plunged into darkness as a violent thunderstorm rages. Yesterday, the Apple Weather app showed a 50% chance of rain, and then only a couple of millimetres during the night. The USA really has the most violent and unpredictable climate I’ve experienced.
And this, on the day when I’ve meticulously planned - in order - the Foothills Parkway, Tail of Dragon, Moonshine 28 and Cherohala Skyway. The weather is - apparently - going to clean up by 11:00 but I won’t be doing them at their best.
After getting snared up in traffic trying to escape the execrable Pidgeon Ford for a second time, a sign directs me onto the Foothills Parkway and all is well with the world again. The temperature is beginning to soar, steam is rising from the immaculate road surface and after thirty miles or so, I’m on a nearly-dry Tail of the Dragon.
These four routes combined exhaust every superlative going so there is just no point trying to describe them in detail. They are all unique in their own way.
Foothills is kindly, expansive and flattering. The Tail of the Dragon is not: the statistics tell the story better than flowery prose can. 11 miles and 318 coroners. Go figure; that’s one horizon-shifting bend - often with severe undulation to keep this a VR experience - every 60 yards or so.
Of course, it’s brilliant and at Deal’s Gap, where Moonshine 28 starts, there’s a buzz of collective achievement as it’s where a throng of riders and drivers stop for a break. Theres also a solid rock band pumping out blues numbers at 14:00 in the afternoon, further adding to the appeal.
Moonshine 28 offers respite as it follows the Fontana River before signs point towards the Cherohala Skyway. By now, the skies have cleared completely and is deep blue in the late afternoon sun. Even the roads to Cherohala are mesmerising but the thing itself, well…
Rising a mile above sea-level, it soars and swoops, promoting a sensation akin to flying in a light aircraft, for over thirty miles. An unforgettable, magical experience.
The entire region is just pure biking nirvana. If you ride a motorcycle and have doggedly followed these posts, glazing over my rhapsodising over food and drink and yawned at my occasional commentary on the world we live in, please hear me on this one point:
North Carolina and Tennessee are the FIRST destinations you should head for if planning a trip in the US. Pacific Coast Highway between San Francisco and Los Angeles may never open again and, even if it does, will have more tourist buses and idiots trying to improve the view of the Bixby Bridge by putting themselves in the foreground of a selfie.
Death Valley and Yosemite are magnificent as are Monument Valley and Grand Canyon. But if we are talking pure motorcycling Nirvana, this place is it.
In the interests of balance, there are a few provisos though…
It looks a lot like France, Germany and Switzerland so if you’re looking for an unfamiliar landscape, this is not the place. There’s just a lot more of it than anywhere in Europe can offer. Blue Ridge Parkway itself is more miles than from London to Aberdeen but on roads that are mostly manicured like a racetrack. And that’s before factoring in all the routes that feed into it, like tributaries of a mighty river.
Second, it really is all about the roads. Food and accommodation are basic (but not budget) and there are no ‘destinations’ to seek out en route: No Hoover Dam, Grand Canyons or Fallingwaters. Only Dollywood and the less said about that, the better.
Third, it was busy even though it’s only May so the season has not got underway. Coupled with that 90% of the roads have two thick yellow lines running down the centre, overtaking is nigh on impossible. UK riders - me included - will often apply the Highway Code exclusion that permits crossing of a solid line under a limited set of circumstances. But in the USA, compliance is absolute and provokes a furious response if you ignore it, as I have a few times.
This is aggravated by the fact that, as it’s so scenic, there are a lot of nondescript small cars and EVs, piloted by people with no evident interest in driving but ‘out for a run’ anyway and oblivious to the frustration their borderline-competent meandering causes. In the UK, I can usually make enough of a nuisance of myself behind them so that they fuck off out of the way by pulling in, but that rarely happens here.
And when you do blast past, they look genuinely surprised to find anyone else is on the road. Maybe you’re a more tolerant soul than me, and, if that’s the case, this won’t be an issue and you’ll just have a ball.
Fourth, if you’re tempted to see this for yourself, you’ll probably rent a bike and if you rent, you’ll probably rent a Harley as these are most widely available. If you do, make sure it’s one of the relatively sporty ones as I saw a few of the fully-dressed tourers on the twistier bits looked like really hard work.
Today may be the last day of great roads I have on this tour. From here on, the places I’m heading are the focus and not the way I’m getting there.
Of course, better roads may await. A few weeks ago, I thought Lolo Pass in Idaho was unsurpassable but I’m questioning this conclusion after today.
And if this is the high-water mark, what a way to end.
