Day 4, Monday August 19th
Linville Falls, North Carolina to Tellico Plains, Tennessee
via Deal's Gap
280 Miles, 46mph average

Day 4 was the big day. The day we hit Deal's Gap. For those who don't know, Deal's Gap is one of the major mecca's for US motorcyclists. Often referred to as "The Dragon", it's 318 turns in 11 miles on Route 129 running from Western North Carolina to Eastern Tennessee. It's really out in the middle of nowhere with no population centers anywhere near by. Never the less, it has its own motorcycle resort and gas station. It plays host to numerous rallies every summer, and tens of thousands of motorcyclist make the pilgrimage each year.

The plan was to spend the first part of the day doing the remaining 136 miles of the Blue Ridge Parkway to it's terminus in Great Smoky Mountain National Park with one short 20 mile side spur near Little Switzerland. The town's name inspired visions of miniaturized alpine switchbacks running through my head. As we cut off the parkway, Matt continued on, agreeing to meet us where our route re-crossed the parkway. They weren't exactly alpine switchbacks, but there was a ton of good tight turns on the tiny little tree lined roads. We were having such a blast we missed a turn off somewhere and ended up getting pretty lost. This first became apparent when we crossed underneath the Parkway, never part of the plan, through a little tunnel no more than seven feet high at the center and not really wide enough for two to ride abreast. Better not try it in a Cadillac Escalade or Ford Expedition. Stupid trucks!

we rejoin Matt, not quite sure how

Well, now that we knew we were lost we stopped to check the map. No good; these roads were so small they weren't even marked on the map. Having no idea where we went wrong, we decided to keep on until we came to a town or a larger road so we could locate ourselves on the map. After another fifteen minutes or so we found ourselves heading south on the road we were originally going to be heading north on to rejoin the parkway. Well low and behold when we got to the parkway, albeit from the wrong side, there was Matt waiting for us none the wiser. I still really have no idea what exactly happened or where we went wrong, but all's well that ends well.

gassing up before the last 30 miles of parkway

Continuing on we whiled our way through the scenic twists and turns of the parkway towards Asheville. As I mentioned before it has become clear that the original plan was overly ambitious on a number of counts. Matt has wisely decided that he will break off from the group in Asheville where he will spend a leisurely day of rest and join up with us tomorrow night at our cabin at Lake Toxaway. This cuts a good 350 miles of the most aggressive roads out of his trip and gives him a chance to recuperate. Meanwhile in order to alleviate some numbness in our butts and brains, we have cut 60 miles out of our day, heading straight for Deal's Gap after the Parkway instead of detouring South through Dillsboro and Franklin as originally planned. After saying goodbye to Matt in Asheville we were back at the Parkway rapidly making our way towards Great Smoky Mountain. Now that we had a good 200 miles of parkway under our belts, the very things that make it so great (perfect tarmac and endless constant radius turns) had begun to make it a little boring. It seemed that all of the turns were essentially the same. The low speed limit and the obvious presence of law enforcement, combined with our desire to be respectful to the other parkway users, had started to leave us wanting a little more. The one thing that never changed was the unbelievable scenery. What a truly beautiful part of the world. After gassing up with about 30 miles left, things begin to change. As we got closer to Smoky Mountain traffic became sparser, the turns got tighter and more varied and we picked up the speed. Hovering around the still relatively sedate speed of 65mph things were truly fun. We arrived in Cherokee with huge smiles on our faces ready for lunch.

checking the map

Lunch was originally planned to be in Dillsboro. I had lined up an appealing deli with plenty of vegetarian options (None of us are vegetarians, but I always think a menu with them is more likely to serve fresh food). However since we had changed our plans to head straight for Deal's Gap, we decided to eat in Cherokee. A Bob's Big Boy quickly appeared on the horizon and since we had never eaten at one, we decided to try it. What a mistake. Call me clueless but I was surprised to realize upon sitting down that the mainstay of the restaurant seemed to be an all you can eat buffet of less than appealing quality. Now I'm no stranger to packing the chow in, and like any good American, I appreciate the concept of excess when it comes to food, but good lord the food looked awful. We all ordered off the regular menu, but it wasn't much of an improvement. Add to that the most annoying sycophantic waiter I have ever had, and we ended up having a lunch begging to be forgotten. Unfortunately, this was just the beginning of a less than perfect afternoon. We mounted up and headed West on Route 19 where we would join route 28 putting us back on our original route. Argh!! We were clearly in retirement land. I have nothing against older members of our society (I actually think those face obscuring, wrap all the way around, green or amber sunglasses are pretty damn cool), but I'm never particularly pleased to be stuck driving behind them. At first we tried passing but soon found it was to no avail. We just ended up crawling behind the next septuagenarian in their almost as aged oldsmobuick. Oh well, I guess one just has to suffer sometimes. I figured once we hit 28, (our approach to Deal's Gap) we'd be back on track. 28 is supposed to be near as much fun as Deal's Gap, but when we finally made it we found it had recently been straightened and widened near Almond. Bummer.

mist ahead

and behind

Zac needed gas, but I knew there was a gas station at Deal's Gap, and we decided he probably had just enough gas to make it so we soldiered on. After about 20 miles of boring blacktop things started to look up and down simultaneously. 28 collapsed from four lanes down to two and started to get nicely twisty, but it had also started to rain in earnest. Apparently quite a large storm had been through the area earlier in the day and we were riding through the tail end of it. A constant misty rain had us breaking out our rain suits. Huge wind gusts had knocked branches down earlier in the day and the road was covered with puddles and littered with debris. Oddly enough this section of 28 with it's less than ideal conditions turned out to be one of the high points of the trip. Though obviously backed off from max pace, we were still had a glorious time arching our way through the curves while tap dancing past the branches and twigs strewn throughout the road. Due to the overcast sky, the scenery was dark, grey and foreboding but hauntingly beautiful. As we made our way along the shores of Fontana Lake and through northern Graham County, it put me in mind of a previous experience Adam, Zac and I had about ten years earlier. The three of us were mountain biking in New Jersey and had gotten into that groove where our legs were pumping in synch, we were all up off our saddles and flowing down the trail like it was a river. Very Zen. I think all three of us will remember that day for ever. It was fantastic to have experienced something like that again.

rainy but still beautiful

We arrived at Deal's Gap wet but elated. The rain had begun to pick up and Zac was running on fumes so we made for cover at the Deal's Gap Motorcycle Resort with attached gas station that stands at the entrance to the Gap. There were about fifteen like minded motorcyclists also waiting out the rain, and I felt in some real sense we had arrived. We dismounted and poked our heads into the store to see what souvenirs we might pick up. It was awfully dark in the store, and the proprietor appeared to be in the process of closing up. It seemed odd to be closing in the middle of the day, so we inquired what was up. It turned out the storm had blown down the electric lines in the area and without electricity he was closing up shop and going into town. Phew I thought, good thing we arrived just in time to get Zac his much needed gasoline. Yeah right, the pumps weren't working without electricity either. A quick inspection of Zac's tank revealed we were indeed in a pickle. Now we were going to treat our fellow motorcyclists to a little show. Zac had brought a hand siphon for just this kind of occasion. The rain was thinning out a bit, so we went outside to try and transfer some of the gas from Adam's larger tank to Zac's. The fuel level was so low in Adam's tank that the hand pump really didn't seem to work. At first we decided the solution was to get Adam's tank higher than Zac's, so we adjourned to an adjacent traffic island that allowed Adam to get his bike a couple of inches higher than Zac's. Still no luck, but now everybody had a better view of our histrionics. After five frustrating minutes Adam decided to try starting the siphon by using the old tried and true method of sucking on it. Anyone who has ever done this knows that in order to get it to work you need to suck long and hard enough that you inevitably end up with a mouthful of gasoline. As anticipated Adam got a mouthful of gasoline but we still couldn't get any gas flowing. Adam made several attempts with nothing more to show for it than a newly flammable tongue.

you meet the nicest people on a harley

Then our savior arrived via a group of about 20 Harleys that came rolling noisily in. Now I know endless words have been written on the rift between the folks riding Harleys and those riding sport bikes. How we should all just be as one because we are just different flavors of the same wonderful dish that is motorcycling, etc. etc. Personally I don't understand the desire to ride a cruiser. I want to go fast, always have. I'm sure it makes no sense to someone interested in experiencing the joy of the open road to do it all hunched up at speeds that make it hard to really see much more than a blur. To each his own. As soon as the new group of riders recognized our predicament, they came over to see if they could help. The fellow you see in the picture had just topped off and he was happy to offer us some of his gas. We replaced Adam's bike with his, and in no time we had gotten a good half gallon into Zac's tank. The guy was extremely nice, refused our offers of money and just seemed happy to help. Another case of motorcyclists helping each other out. It was genuinely appreciated. The really weird thing for us was the swastika prominently featured on his T-shirt (click on the pic to see for yourself). Did he know he'd just helped out a couple of Jews from New York City? Did he care? Was it all image and no meaning? Were we passing? Would he have helped us if we were black? I rather imagine it didn't make a difference to him and that he was capable of straddling both sentiments at once. It seems every time I go south, I have an experience like this: an outward display of ideas that are abhorrent to me by people who are nothing but genuinely nice. I'veheard people have similar experiences visiting New York City. Well come on Nazi boy, come on up and see the town.

Now with Zac road worthy again, we set off to ride the famous Deal's Gap. 318 turns in 11 miles (so they say, we didn't really count), one of the primary reasons we were this far from home. Well, it ended up being kind of underwhelming. None of us really got much of a groove going. It was pretty wet, and with all the stories of death and destruction at the Gap, we took it pretty easy. I think for me the anticipation had been so high that nothing could have lived up to my expectations, especially after we had spent the past couple of days on roads that were of equally fantastic caliber. I guess I was expecting nirvana, but all we found was a road. I'm definitely going back though. I reserve final judgment until I have a chance to make multiple passes in the dry.

on the Magnolia House porch

We had already ridden over two hundred and fifty miles, and it was getting late. The original plan had been to turn around in Tennessee, head back through the Gap into North Carolina and then back into Tennessee on the Cherohala Skyway (another renowned motorcycling road). However with the sun and Zac's borrowed gas rapidly disappearing, we decided to take a more direct route and head for civilization. 15 minutes later we were gassing up in Vonroe, Tennessee. Over eager to get to our day's end, I sped off with my wallet sitting on top of, not in, my tank bag. Luckily Zac was curious enough about the black lump in the middle of the road to stop. Needless to say I owed him a big thanks for retrieving my wallet and the much needed information and credit cards residing inside. After that it was a quick sprint to our evening's resting point, The Magnolia House Bed & Breakfast in Tellico Plains, Tennessee. After checking in we walked into town (not a big walk, or town for that matter) and settled in to a pleasant dinner at Pearson's Fresh Fish restaurant. A quick walk back to Magnolia House and Adam was asleep in no time. Zac and I valiantly tried to stay up for a while, but it was a losing battle and after a few phone calls home, we joined Adam in restful bliss. I doubt it was much later than 9:30pm. Well, we had done the Dragon as well as 136 miles of the Blue Ridge Parkway. I guess we deserved our rest. Another stellar day under our belts.