Motorcycle Trip - Day 4: Rolling Hills and Waterfalls

Day 4 - Sunday, September 1

Day 4 on my motorcycle journey was a day of transition.  

Transition from the fog and rain to sun.  Transition from the mountain overlooks of North Carolina to the rolling hills of central Virginia.  Transition from the excitement and intensity of fog, rain and the bear, to relaxed riding through the Virginia countryside.

Rolling hills along Parkway in central Virginia

The day started with bright sunshine.  My riding companion Steve Winters and I rode at a steady relaxed pace.  The roadside was dotted with bright yellow wildflowers with purple flowers popping up here and there for contrast.

Waterfall just off Parkway

About 30 miles into the day's ride, we stopped at a waterfall.  I had missed the spots for two other waterfalls that were easily accessible from the road, and this was one of our last opportunities without having to take an extensive hike.

Rhododendron canopy

We took the short walk -- about 10 minutes down and 20 minutes back up - hiking along a clearly defined trail that cut among giant rhododendrons and hard wood trees.  We found the small creek that fed into a plunging waterfall.  It was larger than I expected.  

We sat and listened, and watched the water cascade across a granite face.  I studied butterflies flittering on the nearby wildflowers, and spent time capturing close up photos of their search for nectar.

A path led toward the base of the falls.  Steve told me he was fine if I hiked to the bottom, but that he would wait at the top.   But considering the time and effort to hike to the bottom, and the ride in front of us, I deferred.  We hiked along a creek back up to the parking area, and were back on the road.

The Mabry Mill is the most photographed location on the Blue Ridge Parkway.  It is located about 80 miles south of Roanoke.  It is a functioning mill with a picturesque wooden wheel constantly turning, powered by water from the nearby creek.

It is also the site of the only restaurant on the Parkway, and one of only three commercial establishments.  The other two are the inns at Mt. Pisgah and Peaks of Otter.  It is also the busiest place on the Parkway, particularly at meal time on Sunday.

Mountain music trio

We put our names in for the hour-plus wait, then strolled around the grounds.  Under a shelter a trio of banjo, guitar and fiddle were playing mountain music.  Maybe a hundred people were gathered around sitting on picnic tables, or just standing and chatting.  

Clogger

An elderly woman who was in her 70s, if not older, took to the wood that had been stretched out on the grass for a make-shift dance floor.  With joy that was evident, she "clogged," the mountain form of dancing not far removed from the Irish dancing of River Dance.  A young girl joined her for a while, but after several minuted she tired out.  But the older woman kept dancing.  When we headed toward the restaurant, she was till dancing.

She might be dancing still.

Our timing was impeccable.  Just as our names were called for a table a big thunderstorm cut loose.  Steve and I sat at a window seat in the small restaurant, devouring maybe the best biscuits I have ever eaten, slathered with thick homemade blackberry jam.  We ate a meal of pot roast, fried green tomatoes and sweet potato "tater tots."  

Mabry Mill

Waiting for our food -- and more biscuits and jam -- our waitress filled us in on some practicalities of the Parkway.  The Mabry Mill closed for the season at 6 p.m. on Halloween.  There were some uncertainties about the future.  The contract to operate the Mill was up this year.  This time there was competition for the woman who had been operating the restaurant for a number of years.  No one was certain what the future would hold after Halloween.

The reason for closing the Mill -- and the two inns on the Parkway -- is that the Park Service does not plow or salt the Parkway.  There is no snow removal or treatment of ice and snow.  The Park Service seeks to keep the area as natural as possible, and does not introduce salt and other chemicals to the environment.  Rather, there are gates on the Parkway that divide the road into segments.  In bad weather, those gates are shut and locked, and no traffic is allowed.  And of course with the road locked, there is no access to the Mill or the inns.

By the time we were done with our meal and our lesson on the Parkway, the rain had passed. 

We headed back out, and within three miles the pavement was dry.  The Parkway eased through the rolling farmland of central Virginia, heading toward Roanoke.  By the time we stopped in Roanoke for gas, dark clouds were hanging low over the mountains.  Once again, on went the rain gear.

Back on the Parkway, we soon hit rain.  We road the last 10 miles to our exit off the Parkway in a steady rain.  We exited on S.R. 360, a four lane highway.  The rain picked up and we road the next 20 miles in a heavy rain to Bedford, Virginia, where we would spend the night.

The rain stopped just before we got to the motel, so we did not have to unload in rain.

At the same time we arrived, a couple pulled up in their motorcycle pulling a trailer.  They were in their 30s, from Seattle, traveling the country.  It was never clear what they did in life other than ride their motorcycle.

Steve watched in fascination as the Washington couple unloaded their bike.  They used a standard hotel cart.  And filled it -- very bit of it -- from the contents of the trailer they were towing.  It was a bit like watching a clown car at the circus.  The more they pulled out and loaded onto the cart, the more there seemed to be left for them to load.

It was one of those small things - those moments of humor - that if you keep focused on yourself, you will miss.

We were tired.  Neither of us wanted to get into our rain gear again, so we ordered pizza delivered to the motel.  Ten minutes later the wisdom of our decision became apparent.  A storm cut loose with powerful wind, lighting and a deluge of rain.  

But Steve and I sat in my room, talking and eating pizza --  and finishing up the bourbon I had brought on the trip.  

My hands ached and were swollen.  I was tired.  But it had been a good day.  

The end of the Blue Ridge Parkway was in sight - 85 miles to go.  The next day would see us finish the Parkway, ride the Skyline Drive and make the turn for home.