Georgia Trip Report III

February 24, 2010
By Laurie Sherfey

We'll try to wrap this story up on the third go around - I left off at the end of my visit, but still had the trip home to look forward to, since I was not heading back onto the highways. I was going home by way of the Blue Ridge Parkway, at least as much of it as I could cram in on the last 2 remaining days of my trip.

On Friday, we finished up the last of the scooter modifications, and the "V-Matic" indicator light had not come on all week while we were tooling around all over northern Georgia. I had boxed up a lot of the treasures accumulated during the week, safely wrapped up in my laundry and shipped it all UPS, so I had the luxury of riding home with a lot less to pack than I had on the trip down.

I had a few remaining articles of clean clothing and the mountain-grown apples packed under the seat, and all my layers were now stowed in the seat bag, where I could get at them easily. Renee provided all kinds of good snack/picnic foods - I'm now a big convert to packing food, instead of being at the mercy of what you find (or don't find) out on the road. She's much more creative than me in coming up with healthy, tasty foods that keep you going all day long. I'll work on it, though.

Erik gave me a fairly direct, simple route from their house, which would cut south of the areas we'd explored all week, and take me east and north to the Cherokee, North Carolina area, where I'd hook up with the Blue Ridge Parkway.

I wouldn't be going through Smoky Mountains National Park, but I had a long way to ride on the Parkway, and figured the park might be crowded, since the (leaf) color was getting close to peak at the higher elevations.

I got up early, and though the goodbyes were hard, I didn't feel like this was the last time I'd be seeing them or this section of Georgia. I wanted to get out on the road early, since I really didn't know how long it would take me to ride most of the North Carolina portion of the Parkway.

The night before, we had looked long and hard on the internet for a good deal on a hotel room somewhere right off the Parkway, and hadn't found many reasonable places. We finally found a good place in Wilkesboro, which is right around the Boone area, but a bit further off the Parkway.

Boone and Blowing Rock are gorgeous places, but get pricey when the leaves turn. I wasn't sure if Wilkesboro was a bit ambitious going by way of the Parkway, but it was the best place we found, so I just decided I'd get a very early start.

Erik and Renee both had work planned for Saturday, so got up early to see me off. I tooled down their driveway for the last time in the dark, and after filling up, headed toward Gainesville on Route 369.

The ride was not as scenic as the roads we'd explored earlier in the week, but as the sun rose, it was still pretty amazing! Traffic was light, and it didn't take as long as I thought it would to make Gainesville; where I stopped for a few minutes to take a picture of a steam locomotive they have on display. Then I was back on the road, heading toward Clayton, on a road that had a whole bunch of numbers, including 23, 15, and 441.

As I headed up the ramp of this larger road, the darn "V-Matic" light came on again, for the first time since the trip down. I was starting to wonder if my scooter just liked curvy back roads, and didn't want to run on highways any more!

I tolerated the nagging yellow light all the way to Clayton, and then reset it, expecting it to come back on again at any old time. However, it stayed off until I was crossing into North Carolina, and then it wasn't much further until I met up with the Blue Ridge Parkway.

It was still early, and I stopped at the Ranger's Station before getting on the Parkway, where a friendly lady gave me a Parkway map, and told me conditions were extremely foggy and cold at the higher elevations I was heading for. Oh, joy. I added another layer before heading out.

The "V-Matic" light never came on again, once I got back on a quiet, scenic road. I don't know if the signal was tripped by higher engine temperatures, or higher RPMs - the light seems to come on after running at highway speeds, and especially when accelerating, such as on an entry ramp.

Anyway, I quickly forgot about the pesky light, as I excitedly got on the Parkway. It was still fairly early, and there didn't appear to be many cars on it. For a while, I just rode along, enjoying the scenery, and stopping to take an occasional picture.

Sure enough, as we started to climb, the fog thickened, the temperature dropped, and some intermittent rain started to fall. Thank goodness I had watertight gear on! I couldn't complain too much about the conditions - I was comfortable, and it was apparently keeping other people off the Parkway.

Most of the other vehicles I saw for the next couple of hours were also motorcycles, or cars pulled into parking areas of scenic overlooks. With reduced visibility and wet roads, I definitely took it slow. I rarely bumped up against the 45 mph speed limit, and then only on lower, straight portions of the Parkway. I wasn't in any great hurry, and the other cars and bikes weren't going any faster than me, so it was all good.

There were a few sections that scared me a little. One section had switchback type curves, and the fog and rain were heaviest there. I took this part really slow, with an impatient car right on my bumper, and my helmet visor fogging up on the inside, it was so damp and foggy. I turned off into an overlook as soon as I could to let them by, but they roared by me as if I had totally ruined their day.

I took a short breather, and pondered why a Type A person would get on the Parkway at all, never mind on a day with pea-soup fog. I passed this car later, parked in a different overlook, and dreaded seeing them back on my bumper up the road a ways. Fortunately, I never saw them again, and eventually the fog cleared a bit, and the rain let up some.

With this type of riding, I didn't need a lot of stops, just an occasional quick pull-off to take some pictures of the fall colors, which were glorious, even in the fog. None of my pictures do the scenery justice - it really was lovely.

There aren't a lot of other stops along this section, when you're up at the highest elevations - just curves, rocks, and lots of panoramic views around every corner. I stopped often to admire the view, sometimes talking to people, sometimes having a little picnic. The day was overcast, but I didn't mind the rain too much, and it wasn't miserably cold. I rode on, going round about Asheville without stopping.

I'd filled up before getting on the Parkway, but as I rode, the fuel gauge started to drop all too quickly. I stopped at one of the Parkway's little stores, but they no longer sold gas there. I figured I had plenty to get to the next one. By the time I got to the next one, I was getting low, and they didn't have fuel, either.

I knew then I'd have to get off the Parkway, but all the roads I crossed indicated the towns were 20 or 30 miles away, and I didn't want to spend that much time going down and back, and I didn't really relish the thought of the switchbacks I'd have to ride getting on and off the Blue Ridge, either, especially with the roads all wet and slippery. So I rode stubbornly on.

I know I still have quite a bit of gas in the tank once the empty warning starts flashing at me, but I was going to push that more than ever before today. Eventually, there were no more roads crossing the Parkway, and I really started to get worried.

I was still all by myself, and would be at the mercy of whoever came along if I ran out of gas. It would probably be some big-hearted two-wheeler, but even some of them would not stop for a scooter! I have yet to meet a "one percenter", but this could just be my lucky day, if I ended up stranded along the side of the road.

Up ahead, I finally saw what looked like a decent road crossing that led to somewhere populated. I decided to chance it. The sign said the nearest town was 16 miles away. My empty warning had been flashing for a while by now. I might not make it, but at least I could get to a house, or get most of the way there. Going on didn't seem like such a great option, either, especially since I was seeing hardly any traffic as the weather continued to be pretty bleak. So I got off, and wished for once that I had gears and a clutch, so I could shift into neutral and coast down the mountain to conserve gas.

The switchbacks began in earnest almost right away, and I was glad for my week of experience riding curves without braking. I tried to do that now, maintaining a speed that made braking unnecessary.

I never could have managed this a week before, but now it felt very natural. As I got down the mountain, I started to see cabins, and then further on, homes, and I figured if I had to, I could always knock on doors if the gas gave out now. So I rode on, mostly without throttle or brake, and it was actually kind of fun after a while.

Long story short, I made it to the town, and even to the other side, to the only gas station. My tank holds 3.7 gallons, and it took all of it to fill it up. I hope to never, ever cut it that close again. So a word of advice for the Parkway - watch your fuel. Some motorcycles have much smaller tanks than mine, and less range. Don't push your luck like I did!

I sat and drank a soda, and thought how disastrous my miscalculation could have been. But then I decided it wasn't, and laughed at myself till it hurt. Sometimes you gamble, and win. I no longer dreaded those switchbacks, either. I would enjoy going back up the mountain to get back on the Parkway! And I did - every single last curve. I love that scooter, I really do.

Soon I was tooling back along the Parkway, feeling charged up after my little adventure. I had originally hoped to stop a few more places along the way, such as Linville Falls, and the Moses Cone House.

Those are two places I like a lot. However, the day was getting on, and as the afternoon passed, the temperatures were falling, and the rain was, too. At least it wasn't so foggy.

I consider the Lincove Viaduct to be an engineering marvel - actually stood on it during construction, looking over the edge where the road abruptly ended (over 23 years ago, on our honeymoon!). Riding over it for the first time on two wheels was a big thrill for me. As I expected, it was even more awesome on the scooter, and the sweeping curves were delightful.

After that, I was happy to ride on, just charged up from riding the Viaduct. I saw a lot of motorcycles, and everyone waved, no matter what type or size they were. I should have been tired by now, but I wasn't, and the last leg of the trip up toward Boone, which was still quite a long way, was not hard at all. I had plenty of gas, I had snacks, and I had a warm, dry room waiting for me.

The scooter and I bonded some more on the Parkway's smooth curves, and I did have to watch the speed limit on this stretch, because it was just so much fun! I also saw a caravan of about 20 motorcycles with side cars, all out for a group ride, and all of the side cars filled with wives and kids. I got a lot waves as they passed in the other direction, maybe heading back toward Asheville. That was sure a sight to see!

It was pretty late by the time I saw the signs for the Moses Cone house - it was probably closed by then. I rode on, promising myself I would come back another day.

Soon, I saw the road to Wilkesboro, and it was pretty much a highway, so it was a quick ride down to the town. It was dark when I pulled into the hotel, and the friendly clerk was amazed when I said I'd come all the way from Canton, Georgia; on a scooter. But then, he didn't know this scooter.

Sometimes after a long ride, I'm too tired to even think about going out for dinner. But even after riding all day, I felt great, and the clerk recommended Amalfi's, a little Italian restaurant tucked away just off the main drag. With his excellent directions, I was soon in a cozy little local treasure, having some of the best Italian food I've ever tasted.

There were a lot of the usual chain restaurants out on the main street, but this was crowded with locals, and they were curious about my riding suit, and the scooter, and my ride up the Parkway, too.

I'm constantly surprised how I go places, and not a soul talks to me, or even notices I'm alive. But put that gear on, mess up the hair, and park a two wheeler out front, and everyone is your friend. This human contact enriches every riding experience I've ever had, whether I'm with long-time friends, or making new ones along the way. I intend to go back to that cozy, friendly little restaurant as soon as possible - hopefully on my way back to Georgia for more barbecue!

The rest of the night was fairly quiet and uneventful, except for some yahoos revving their loud motorcycles until late into the night. These motorcycles were on trailers, not even being ridden at that point.

I love motorcycles of all types, but what's the point of sitting on a motorcycle that's all tied up on a trailer, just revving the engine till the wee hours of the morning?!? I made sure the clerk and other guests I saw the next morning knew it was NOT me. I even started the scooter for one elderly guy, to show him how quiet it is. He grinned and asked his wife if she'd be willing to travel that way. She grinned right back, and called his bluff, saying she most certainly would! If I'd only had a second helmet, I would have taken that nice lady for a spin. Instead, I finished packing my gear, and after filling the gas tank (I'm dumb, but trainable), I headed back toward the Parkway, and started my final leg of the Parkway.

The Parkway gets a lot less exciting as you get to the end of North Carolina, and cross into Virginia. The elevations decline steadily, and the road straightens out. There also wasn't as much fall color, either.

I had hoped to ride as far as Mabry Mill, and perhaps have lunch there at the little restaurant. This part was longer than I remembered, and less exciting after all I'd seen the day before.

It was well after noon by the time I got to Mabry Mill. The lot was filled with cars and motorcycles, with "car vultures" scavenging for spaces, and a line out the door of the little restaurant. After solitary riding and lovely mountain scenery, I just wasn't up to this much civilization. I decided to skip the mill for once, and head back to Meadows of Dan, where there was a good place to eat, and then turn toward home on Route 58.

I was sitting in the restaurant thawing out my cold fingers, waiting for my food, when a large group of riders pulled up; out in the lot. I saw them eye my scooter as they walked by, and one of the women said something, and they all laughed. I studied them as they walked in, and they looked me over thoroughly, too.

I guess it was obvious who the scooter belonged to. They managed to not sneer, but just barely. I was glad they got seated on the other side of the restaurant. However, I would have loved to ask them how far they'd ridden. I'd done 350 miles the day before, and would do that or more again before I got home later that day.

I didn't think I needed to feel inferior to them. I turned my attention to the cute little girl in the next booth, who seemed fascinated with my "space suit" (children usually are). Erik would tell them we were astronauts. I just smiled at her, and ate my chicken. One of the best things about going away is coming home again. The trip across Route 58 was uneventful, except for a few stops for gas, and the usual questions from curious people - how fast does it go? What gas mileage does it get? What IS it?!

Usually this last part of the trip is a drag, especially in a car. But it gave me time to think about the past week - all the people, and places, and excellent food, and how I felt so much better after a lot of riding, and some time away.

Soon I was in the Tidewater traffic, though it's not so bad on a Sunday afternoon. Audrey and Steve gave me a big welcome when I got home, and I hardly knew where to start, telling them about the trip. The dogs all sniffled me well, thrilled to have me back home, too.

The waterproof gear didn't let me down this time, either. I'd be heading back to work the next morning, but felt like I was a new person. I'd ridden about 1900 miles in 8 days, and they were very, very good miles.

I got to see my brother and sister in law, and there is no higher quality time than time spent riding together! I'm so thankful I got the chance to do this - and can't wait for the next adventure on the scooter.

My brother has been sending me pictures lately of Renee's incredible nachos, with spicy beef brisket and "the works". So you know I've still got Georgia on my mind!

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