6/10 Asheville, NC (62 miles, 6116 feet in elevation gain)
The Blue Ridge Parkway Tour 2016 started with an hour long drive to Balsam Gap. Bruce very astutely made the decision to forgo the first 17 miles of the highway from Cherokee, saving us the punishing climb at the beginning of this fabled bike route.
We hopped out of the cars in a highway department work yard and after taking a few photos, found ourselves pedaling up a steady 3-6% grade for the next 12 miles. Initially, the road seemed dark and somewhat ominous, as we wound our way through an endless tunnel of huge deciduous trees. Soon we were breaking out of the trees to find pullouts, where one could admire the faint outline of endless blue ridges in the distance. Vibrant wild orange azaleas and pink and white rhododendrons prominently bordered the groomed barrow pit. It was so beautiful.
Initially, we owned the road. A rare pack of Harley Davidson’s or a lone sedan would sneak up on us, pulling us out of our day dream fog and pushing us to the side of the narrow, twisting and turning, always ascending lane. However, by the time we were screaming down the asphalt roller coaster at 35 mph towards Asheville, a constant stream of traffic was patiently working its way around us.
It as a day of 13 tunnels. The first ones were long and you actually needed your headlight to navigate through them. It was a little disconcerting when I was about half way through the longest one, as my pupils, adjusted for the bright sunny day, very slowly made the change to total darkness. When I could finally see the sun lit exit, relief coursed through my veins. Thankfully, the last tunnels were much shorter, and I merely pushed my sunglasses down my nose so I could look over the top of them, and blasted through them using my pulsing front light.
Dinner at Moe’s Original, an Alabama based barbecue joint, was one short step below eating in heaven. I savored spicy chicken wings, smoked turkey breast and pulled pork, along with the sides of collard greens, baked beans and fried corn bread. The North Carolina IPA was a perfect match to each bite.
6/11 Spruce Pine, NC (55 miles, 6572 feet in elevation gain)
So what is it like to ride the fabled Blue Ridge Parkway? My friend, Bruce Dwyer, has perhaps the best analysis of the experience. Bruce explains that it’s 50 minutes of uphill for about every hour you’re on the road. If you’re going all out in your small ring, with a minimum of 32 teeth, you’ll be averaging between 6-9 miles per hour. Initially you think that it’s no big deal and that you could spin up the steep grades endlessly, but as the day wears on, and the temperatures ramp up, little by little your armor seems to deteriorate. When you finally reach the apex of the ridge line, and point your bike down the roller coaster like road, you’ll find yourself tucking at about 35-40 mph. Sadly, this experience is short lived, as soon you’re blowing through another gap in the mountain range, and rolling up another steep, curving slope.
Generally, the road surface of the Blue Ridge Parkway is very good. There are a few chuck holes in places and some patch work has been poorly done, but for the most part, its is an exceptional ride. They do not chip seal the road, which seems so un-American to the abused westerner, who learns to ride with a steady diet of the little rocks on all roads.
Our lodging was at the Skyline Village Inn right off the parkway. It seemed to be a motorcycle favorite, as large groups of Harley riders thundered up the driveway to spend the night. Perhaps the best aspect of the stay was sitting on our porch overlooking the mountain range, drinking exceptional Eastern craft beers and comparing notes on the day.
6/12 Blowing Rock, NC (44 miles, 4557 feet in elevation gain)
Our easy day was anything but easy. Not only was the ride steep and unforgiving, but we had a large number of weekend tourists sharing the road with us. Some were patient and waited to pass on the busy road, but others slid by us with inches to spare. Under my breathe, I uttered nasty comments several times, complaining about rude driver’s mothers and labelling them with unflattering descriptions that would cause conflict if they could read my lips.
Kim and I had monster pork chops for dinner at a trendy micro-brewery. Blowing Rock itself is a cute little tourist mecca, with thousands of migrating Floridians spending the summer there.
6/13 Glade Valley, NC (68 miles, 6722 feet in elevation gain)
It is hard to compare a Blue Ridge ride with other cycling experiences. I’ve pedaled up steeper grades and had many hard days in the saddle. Nothing, and I say this with total honesty, compares to the abuse of the rolling terrain of the parkway. You work your way up and around sweeping corners to find yourself at the top of the ridge line. You pull out at a view point, typically to look down on the lower peaks on the Appalachian Range, with the closer peaks darker and more blue. The ridges fade to gray as they recede into the distance. You clip back into your cleats and start down the steep grade, screaming around well banked corners at 30-40 mph. Sometimes you’ll surprise a doe with a fawn standing in the middle of the road. Other times it will be a turkey hen with six chicks or a raccoon with a death wish. You always need to be on edge, as you never know what will be around the next corner. The rider repeats this experience over and over again. Up and down, all day long. The sun pounds down on you, the humidity seems to leach the last bit of energy from your body and the next hill seems steeper, and more impossible than the last. That is the Blue Ridge Parkway.
By the time that Kim and I pulled into Glade Valley we were beyond exhausted. The last few miles were done at a stagger, slowly pedaling up the impossible grades with defeat written all over our faces. The skin on my buttocks was lacerated by my sweat soaked shorts, feeling like a Nazi torture professional had taken a cheese grader to it. Every downward pedal motion sent a rocketing explosion of pain to my barely functioning brain.
The good news of the day came with arrival at the Glade Valley B & B. Jim and Margaret had designed a beautiful log cabin with large, deluxe rooms for their guests. It seemed like we had landed in Heaven, as we sat on their porch pouring down beers and talking politics. Kim soaked in the jacuzzi tub for an hour while we compared Clinton and Trump, which would normally depress anyone. However, with perfect setting and great company, we relished every moment.
The owners served spaghetti and meat balls for dinner. Not only was every bite fabulous, but we could eat endlessly. I inhaled three large helpings and then still savored the chocolate cake and banana pudding. It is easily the very best bed and breakfast experience I’ve ever had in my travels.
6/14 Meadows of Dan, VA (56 miles, 4803 feet in elevation gain)
It was another perfect day on the parkway. With an early start and a business like approach to the pedal, Kim and I streaked into the Woodbury Inn just as the heat index had passed the “not safe for human existence” level.
Perhaps one of the real joys of the Blue Ridge is the solitude. Five or ten minutes go by with no traffic at all, followed by short explosions of Harley racket or the road noise of a sedan’s tires. It is so peaceful that you can hear a deer running through the woods and every bird’s chorus celebrating life.
The national park service has done an exceptional job in creating displays along the road. There are several old cabins from the 19th century that you can stop and inspect, but perhaps the single most beautiful structure of the trip was Mabry Mill down the road from our hotel.
The real treat of the day was meeting Bruce and Linda’s friends, Jack and Lee. They own a beautiful log cabin up the road from the Woodbury Inn, where we spent the afternoon drinking tasty IPAs and chatting about their retirement. Lee soon had us down below their cabin showing off her her hobby, falconry. She had two hunting birds, a very large red tail hawk and a peregrine falcon. I really enjoyed learning how she hunted crows and squirrels during the fall and winter season.
Dinner was in a cute little mountain town, Floyd, at a local brewery. Sadly I ordered a very expensive, extremely mediocre pizza. As I lay in bed that night, I felt like I had ingested a full five pound brick of greasy mozzarella. I painfully watched the clock slowly tick away the hours, praying for my stomach to stop it’s endless complaining.
6/15 Roanoke, VA (61 miles, 4911 feet in elevation gain)
Kim, Ron Tangermann and I roared ahead of the group, even though I was worried about having a cheese clot in my brain after the previous night’s meal. It was typical parkway riding, with steeper than usual uphills where I actually could have actually used another two teeth in my back cassette, and seemingly shorter than usual downhills. I must admit that I’d gotten to be a coaster on the downhills, attempting to extend the resting time, instead of setting new land speed records or powering around the well banked corners.
Roanoke is a gorgeous little city at the bottom of a river valley. The good news was that the end of the ride was mostly a screaming downhill. The bad news was to be the climb out of the valley the next day.
Bruce and Linda had reserved rooms at the beautiful, modern Cambria Suites, one of the nicest hotels ever. After some of the small mom and pop’s motels of the trip, it was nice to spread out in absolute luxury for a night.
Dinner was at a New Orleans flavored restaurant downtown, the Blue 5. Every bite of my spicy sausage and shrimp creamy pasta was a delight. The table banter seemed more energized than usual, as if the massaging shower heads of our lodging had washed away the road fatigue and given us a new lease of life. As we savored fine micro brews and devoured our dinner, the skies opened up in an absolute deluge. I was so, so happy that I wasn’t out there, fighting up another hill in the middle of this onslaught.
6/16 Peaks of Otter, VA (36 miles, 3540 feet in elevation gain)
The much feared climb out of Roanoke was no big thing. Sure we sagged out of the city to the Blue Ridge, but we still faced an impossible climb. As it turned out, it was almost like I had gotten a new set of legs, as I felt the strongest that I had felt the entire tour. The power of a good night’s sleep is amazing.
Kim and I ended our ride at the Peaks of Otter National Park Lodge, while the rest of the group elected to ride an additional nine miles up to Apple Valley Orchard. We decided to do some hiking, as we had met and visited with a young man hiking the Appalachian Trail that day, which piqued our interest in doing a walk in the nearby woods.
Our hike was actually very interesting, as the park service had built a short trail system to connect to one of the old farmsteads. It was like slipping back into the 1800’s. The old barn had the implements that the family had used to work the land and the house was decorated with period furniture and possessions. Even the park volunteer caretakers were dressed in 19th century garb and were using ancient tools to work the garden.
Sleep would not come easily that night. My pillow was about 20 inches high of foam Hell and the heat and humidity seemed punishing for my frail, Western body. I tossed and turned, kicking off all the blankets, my sweaty body then freezing in the blast of the air conditioner. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
6/17 Love, VA (71 miles, 7890 feet in elevation gain)
It was to be the toughest day of the whole enchilada. Kim and I got up extra early and were the first ones in line to eat breakfast at the hotel dining room. Thankfully, the weather had changed, turning an overcast grey instead of the hot and humid weather of the brilliant blue skies we had previously experienced on the tour.
Since we knew that we had a big day ahead of us, we kicked it into high gear from the start. Kim powered up the nine mile climb to Apple Valley Orchard, highest point in Virginia, like she was on fire. I fought to keep up with her and only at the end, when she knew that she had made the top, was I able to catch her. We did the climb in 57 minutes, a new world record for old people.
The 12 miles of screaming downhill to the James River were very beautiful, as we looked out at endless mountain ridge lines enveloped in intermittent fog banks. Low laying, dark grey clouds surrounded us. I let my Domane run at full speed on the straights, reining her in on the slick corners, and then ultimately cycling through heavy sections of fog. From time to time big drops of moisture pounded into my face from the dripping trees.
In what seemed like seconds we were standing at the James River Visitor Center, refilling our bottles for the big hump ahead. Since the forecast was actually quite favorable, I knew that the rain that had started to fall was probably just going to be a short local shower. I felt that we would ride out of it, the sun would come out and life would be perfect again. I was so, so wrong.
It was to be a cold, wet, very difficult day of riding. The inclines seemed steeper and longer, we had some sections of marginal pavement and the downhill sections made you borderline hypothermic, as the chill of the wind permeated your sweat and rain soaked clothing. It was more up, up and around. A short down, and then more up, up, up.
Thankfully Linda had scored Texas sized roast beef sandwiches for lunch. I would need every calorie to finish this day, actually arriving in Love borderline hungry.
The day varied between light drizzle to very short periods of pounding rain. Finally, when we hit the home stretch, the last 20 miles, we rode into a very intense fog. It was riding inside of a milk bottle, as you could barely make out the yellow center line 15 yards ahead of us. Thankfully, tourists had elected to find another option over the 45 mile per hour, twisting and turning parkway on this day. The few cars that we encountered were crawling along at turtle speed in the fog, but I was still happy to have my bright rear and front lights to protect me.
Kim and I pulled into our hotel first and after a quick shower, met Bruce as he entered the compound. He explained that Jim had just texted him, saying that he was helping with a bear/motorcycle accident 12 miles back down the road and had requested a ride into the hotel. Kim and I sped off in the sag wagon to bring him back to a cold beer and shower.
The finishing touch on this epic day was at Devil’s Backbone Brewery, where we had our last big banquet as a group. The sun came out and the beer flowed. Even the food was tolerable. We were so excited about completing the tour that we all bought new Devil’s Backbone baseball caps and their official pint glasses as mementos. It was a great time.
6/18 End of Blue Ridge Parkway (16 miles, 1263 feet in elevation gained)
It wouldn’t have been a Blue Ridge ride if we didn’t have some hills to power up, so Bruce’s 16 mile, all down hill “rip” to the end of the road wasn’t as easy as advertised. Even so, we finished in style. Ron had nearly fought a black bear sow and her cub on his way to the finish line, but for the rest of us, it was just one more struggle up the steep grade, and then “hold on, Hannah,” as we roared down the last two miles to milepost zero.
Overall, I would say that the Blue Ridge Parkway is my favorite all time domestic bicycle tour. It is also the most difficult physical activity that I have ever participated in in my 61 years on this planet. Backpacking the Teton Crest, hiking across the Grand Canyon or riding my Bike Friday over the steep hills of France was easy in comparison. Nevertheless, its beauty, the serenity of the road and the challenge of completing each day made it very special.
Our group was wonderful. We laughed, shared crazy stories and stayed happy, even though we were all physically and mentally exhausted most of the time. Kim and I loved the experience and our friends made it all possible. Without Linda and Glenna driving the sags, or Jim and Bruce picking us up and taking us to the airport, it simply wouldn’t have happened. Dan kept us entertained with fun stories and Ron supplied the humor we needed to tackle the next hill. We were truly blessed to share this fun with such a wonderful group of friends.
