Motorcycle Trip Journal Day 2: At the Gap There Be Dragons

Day 2:  Friday, August 30 - Part 2

The second day of our motorcycle adventure begins with the promise of sunshine and adventure ahead.  It does not disappoint.  But there are unexpected challenges ahead, too.

After talking with Scooter (see previous post), my riding buddy Steve Winters and I make a return trip to the Riverside Cafe, a rustic restaurant nestled between the mountains, a stone's throw (literally) from a sign declaring "You Are Now Entering Great Smokey Mountain National Park."  We  visited the restaurant one year ago when we made our first trip to the Tail of the Dragon, and found it worth a return visit. It is a pleasant familiar setting.

Li'l Sam

Our waitress is Samantha, or "Li'l Sam" as she is known, a short little spark plug of smiles and southern hospitality.  She serves us up a breakfast of steaming coffee, country ham, eggs, grits and fresh made-from-scratch biscuits -- or as Steve would say throughout the trip with an exaggerated southern accent -- "Beez-kits."

After breakfast, we attach Steve's Go Pro digital video camera to the front of my motorcycle.  We know what lay ahead, and we want to make an effort to capture it on video.  We spend time carefully lining up the camera for the correct angle.  Then we are ready.  It is time for the road.

We head east toward Marysville to pickup the Smokey Mountain Foothills Parkway.  The Parkway is a beautiful 20 mile stretch of unblemished 2-lane blacktop that winds among gorgeous vistas and overlooks, connecting the E. Lamar Alexander Parkway (US 321) to US 129 -- and the Dragon.  But the Foothills Parkway is more than just a connector route.  It is worth traveling just for itself.

We get to US 129,and stop at the Harley-Davidson store that sits in the middle of nowhere, just north of the Tail of the Dragon.  Like so many other motorcyclists, we stop and pick up souvenir shirts and trinkets.  

Then back on the bikes, Go Pro recording, we head to the Dragon.

Sculpture of Dragon, Deals Gap

The Tail of the Dragon is a legend among motorcyclists.  It is an 11-mile, 318 turn stretch of US 129 along the Tennessee / North Carolina border.   Its constant curves and switchbacks draw motorcyclists and sports car enthusiasts from all over the United States.  Even on a Friday morning like this, a steady stream of motorcycles of every type will take the challenge of the Tail of the Dragon.

With Steve riding in front, and me riding close behind with the camera running, we take on the Dragon.  I stay close to Steve for benefit of the video, and a few times I consciously locate my bike for the best angle as we ride.  My footrests drag three or four times on the undulating switchbacks, but it's not something I haven't done before. Despite many horror stories - mostly from people who have not ridden it - we enjoy the ride without incident or near-misses.  When all is said and done, the Dragon is simply a very curvy road. 

Me, Steve Winters & Tree of Shame

After a little less than half an hour, we roll into Deals Gap, NC.   In reality, it is nothing more than a cross-roads -- a landing spot with two restaurant / tee-shirt shops on either side of the roadway for those who have just traversed the Dragon.  

In the parking lot of the larger of the two businesses is the infamous Tree of Shame.  It is a big tree (not sure what type) that is literally covered with motorcycle parts gleaned from the Tail of the Dragon - remnants of motorcycles that didn't make it through all 318 curves.  

Many of the dented and scraped parts have cute messages written in marker from their former owners.  One simply says "Don't be stupid."  Others parts dangle in silent recognition to bikers who overestimated their talents, underestimated their speed, or simply lost concentration in the constant back-and-forth weave of the constantly-changing blacktop.  One of the more unusual signs you will ever see is posted nearby.  It warns:  "Watch for Falling Bike Parts."

Cindy

Steve and I have lunch.  We enlist the help of Cindy, an attractive vivacious woman with an incredibly engaging smile.  She steps away from her friends and takes photos of Steve and I -- "Steve Squared" as my assistant calls us -- standing at the end of the Dragon. Then she poses for a couple of photos herself.

I repack my camera into my saddlebag, Steve resets the Go Pro camera, and we  head out of Deal's Gap on US 28, the winding highway known alternatively as Moonshiner or Hellbender.  It's a beautiful, challenging, twisty ride, but without the intensity of the Dragon.  

On one of the curves, I make a small miscalculation on the apex of a turn, and the right half of my front tire edges into the grass along the roadside.  It wasn't all the way off the road, but it was close enough to get my attention - and maybe leave a temporary green wall along my tire for a mile or two.  In the more than 750 miles of twisty roads that follow before we head back onto the Interstate and head toward home, I don't make that mistake again.

We ease through Moonshiner, then wrap around the southeast corner of the Smokey Mountain National Park.  After a short stop for fuel and ice cream, and a quick consultation with a map, we head out to Cherokee, NC and the beginning (from south to north) of the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Sign in Deal's Gap store.

Cherokee, NC is located just outside the southeastern entrance to the Great Smokey Mountains National Park.  I have been through Cherokee before, but it was years - maybe decades - ago.  But present-day reality meets the low expectations of my memories.  

Gaudy signs advertise a wide variety of trinket shops that crowd along the roadway.  Everything is touted as Indian "this" or Indian "that."  As we pass by, there is even an Indian in full headdress hawking merchandise to passing tourists in front of a shop loaded with tacky nick-knacks, most likely made in some sweat shop in Bangladesh or Cambodia.

The entire town seems out of a 1950s time warp.  It's not the best image of American Indians . . . or America.

It's about 3 p.m. Just beyond the gaudiness of Cherokee, we see the sign we've been looking for.  We make a right turn.  A wooden National Park Service sign declares "You Are Entering Blue Ridge Parkway."  

After a little over 500 miles, we have arrived at the place where our journey truly begins.