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Georgia 2010 Part I
Elk & Turkey Hunting

November 10, 2010
By Laurie Sherfey

It was 6:45 AM, and I was really excited to finally be underway! After weeks of planning and anticipation, lots of emails back and forth, and a night of frantic last-minute packing I was finally pulling the scooter out of my driveway on Saturday morning, October 9th to visit my brother and sister in-law in Canton, Georgia.

I would have been perfectly happy to do everything exactly the way I did them last year when I rode down to Georgia, but of course, there would be many changes this year - good changes. Starting out on a trip, you don't know what lies ahead. What I did know, was that I had a long day ahead of me. My hotel reservations that night were all the way down in Maggie Valley, North Carolina, which is just outside the Smoky Mountains National Park. Last year, I spent the night in Hickory, which was well on this side of Asheville. This year, I'd be going on past Asheville.

Unlike last year I didn't have a dead battery to delay my departure for several hours! The scooter started smoothly and purred happily as I headed toward the Midtown Tunnel. In no time, I was out of Norfolk and heading toward Suffolk where I'd join up with Route 58.

When you're heading west, it's pretty hard to beat Route 58; it's 4 lanes, and besides for the speed traps around Emporia, it's a good road (especially early on a Saturday morning!).

This year, I wasn't going to get off at Route 85 and head south. That takes you through Raleigh/Durham, and then Greensville, and those areas were very high traffic last year, even on a weekend afternoon. This year, I planned to stay on Route 58 all the way west to Hillsville, Virginia, and then hop on Route 77 south to Statesville, NC, and then get on Route 40 heading toward Asheville. That would take me around Asheville, and then eventually I'd hop off that and it would be a short distance more to go down into Maggie Valley.

The ride across Route 58 was uneventful, except for seeing 6 police cars around Emporia. One followed me for over 5 miles, just looking for any reason to pull me over. Perhaps he was on the radio with HQ trying to figure out if my headlight modulator is legal (it is).

Maybe I'm being cranky, but I absolutely refuse to spend any of my money in Emporia. I don't eat there, I don't buy gas there. I just drive right on through, maintaining the posted speed limit and diligently observing all traffic laws. I think their revenue strategy is absurd and resent being harassed and treated that way.

Okay, getting down off my little soap box now; I got through town un-ticketed, and even had a police escort most of the way to make me feel all safe and protected! After he turned off and headed back to find more likely prey, I got back up to highway speed, and cruised west across Virginia smoothly and uneventfully.

I was heading up the curvy part of 58 toward Lover's Leap and meadows of Dan early in the afternoon, and besides a quick stop to refill the tank and have a snack, I rode steady all the way through to Hillsville. Another quick stop for gas and I merged onto Route 77, where the speeds were higher, but the traffic was still delightfully light.

The Silverwing (hereafter referred to as the Swing) easily kept pace with the other traffic; that part of the trip went very quickly. I got back on the road feeling very refreshed and headed toward Asheville, where I could not stop today, unfortunately.

The entire trip so far seemed to drift on by, not boring or anything, just relaxing, and lots of time to think and just watch things going past. The Swing is so comfortable to ride; I could go further than 150 miles between stops, if the fuel tank were a bit larger. Still, it's probably best to take breaks frequently.

I got a little mixed up around Asheville and didn't take the right road toward Maggie Valley, but realized my mistake quickly, and got back on track pretty easily, and didn't lose much time. I was heading down into Maggie Valley well before darkness descended on the mountains, and enjoyed riding through the main part of town.

There's the Wheels of Time Motorcycle Museum there, though I never seem to go by during its operating hours! Still, that pretty much tells you this is a biker-friendly kind of place, and when I pulled into the hotel lot a few miles further down the road, there were more vehicles of the two-wheel persuasion parked in the lot than the 4 wheeled kind.

I was really happy to be there; I'd been on the road for nearly 11 hours, and rode 546 miles. Regardless, by the time I had checked in, and stretched my legs a bit, I truly believe I could have gotten back on and gone a lot further! The Swing fits me pretty well.

A few riders on big loud cruisers looked curiously at me as I slid my littler bike in among their chromed behemoths in the motel's back lot. I did notice the sneer left one guy's face when he saw my Virginia license plates, and that was before I pulled my helmet off and he realized I was female! The look on his face was priceless.

I had a small audience out on the balcony of the motel by the time I loosened my bag and headed toward my room, but no one bothered me or made any comments. These were older, well-to-do riders; many brought their bikes in on elaborate trailers. By the time I came out later to get some things stashed under the seat; no one even gave me a second glance.

It was a quiet place, surrounded by mountains, and as evening settled over the valley, I sat in a rocking chair on the front porch to phone home and check in. The air was cool and fresh, and though the place was full, all was blissfully peaceful and quiet. I looked forward to a quiet evening, maybe watch the late college football game, and turn in early. I planned to be up before daylight to head for the park, and look for some elk!

I might have ridden all day without complaint, and lived on fairly meager rations, but there is a lot to be said for a hot shower, and cool, crisp fresh sheets, and a comfy bed to sleep in. I slept like a baby!

I didn't have an alarm, but figured I'd wake up early - and I did. It was still dark out but I had lots of time to grab another shower, repack my stuff in a new and improved way and get the bike all loaded up.

The free breakfast opened for business at 6:30, and I was delighted to find hard boiled eggs, whole wheat bread, and even scored some little tubs of peanut butter for lunch later! The coffee was very good, and I wished I'd brought one of those travel mugs so I could take some for the road.

I pulled out of the lot about the same time as the day before, but this morning, it felt a lot earlier - it was dark, and foggy - the dripping wet kind of foggy, where visibility is really horrible. Fortunately, I was pretty much the only one out on the roads that early.

It was only a short distance back the way I came in the night before, and then I cut north on State Route 276, which was supposed to take me directly into the Chataloochee area, inside the National Park.

As I rode down the road, my windshield fogged up, my visor (which was up) was dripping water onto my face and neck, and my glasses were fogged up the worst of all. It really wasn't safe to be riding this way. I eventually decided my mediocre night vision was better than the fogged up glasses, and they came off.

After riding down the road quite a ways, I started to worry I'd missed the turnoff for the road into the park, and as I came around a curve, I saw lights ahead - a gas station! I was happy to stop and wipe off my windshield (losing the very impressive bug splat creation I hoped to share with my brother later that day).

Seeing how the station was open, and being female, I decided asking for directions might be a great idea, out here in the dark with zero visibility in the middle of nowhere. There was a nice young lady at the register, and after buying a soda for later, I started to ask how to find the park road. She immediately asked if I was headed "up to see the elk", and told me the road was about 150 feet further down the road we were on! She told me it was a "long ways in "- useful information for later.

I got back on the Swing, and started out with renewed enthusiasm. Before I even got to the intersection we were all drippy and saturated with the heavy, foggy dew again. It was worse than rain - it was everywhere.

I turned on the road, and noticed a little hint of light in the eastern sky. I just had to keep it together in the dark a little longer! It was 11 miles into the park on that road, and those 11 miles seemed longer to me than the 546 miles I rode the day before!

The road started out paved, with some gentle curves, and farms and houses set back from the road. Then it got darker; the curves got curvier, and it was again dark as could be all around me with the drippy fog obscuring everything. The road turned to hard packed dirt and the slope got a lot steeper. It was more like a very wide footpath than a road, but at least the surface was dry and very hard, so it wasn't slippery.

I'd never ridden the scooter "baja" before, and if I'd been able to see more than 5 feet in front of me, I would have had some fun with it! As it was, I rode slowly, leaning out on the curves to see around my frosted over windshield. The road kept climbing and climbing, and I started to worry maybe I'd missed a turnoff somewhere. The curves were now switchbacks, and as the light finally started to break over the mountaintops, I wondered if I was better off not seeing how far down it was to where I'd been earlier!

But I soldiered on. After about 20 minutes of careful riding and having more doubts about going the right way, I came to a sign announcing I was entering the National Park! Next to it, a smaller sign warned me the roads ahead were narrow and had sharp curves. I'll admit I was tempted to give up right about then, but I was just foolish enough not to. It was only a little more climbing, and then I started to descend. It wasn't too bad, though, because now I had some light to work with.

As the road continued down, it got drippy/foggy again, but I was getting used to it by then. I was making better time, and it wasn't long before I rode past a campground full of RVs. I hadn't seen another soul the entire trip in, but all these huge RVs came in on that same road I just used! I guess that explained the hard-packed road. It was a little humbling, though, and made my little adventure seem a bit less dangerous.

I got over it quickly, and rode past all those sleeping RVers looking for some elk! Sure enough, up ahead in a mist-shrouded field, was a herd of them. The bull elk had about 6 or 7 females, and since it was rutting season, there was another younger bull trying to steal one or two of them. There was some bugling - a high-pitched, eerie sound I remembered well from so many years ago at Yellowstone. I just sat on the scooter and stared in wonder as they grazed peacefully close by in the field. There were some other cars there too, but not many. It was everything I'd hoped for, and worth every drippy, foggy mile to get there.

I headed down the road, stopping to see many other large groups of elk on both sides. I could hear the bugle calls coming from several different directions - some nearby, and some off in the distance. The males ran with their heads held high and proud, and their antlers are impressive. The fog made the whole experience even more unreal and amazing as the huge animals appeared out of it unexpectedly, and disappeared back into it mysteriously.

I rode on slowly until I came to the end of the road and stopped to watch a large group of wild turkeys. I pulled out the camera to photograph them since I'd never seen any so close. Some other people in a car pulled in beside me, and we both quietly enjoyed to fresh morning air, the mountains, and the turkeys as they worked their way closer and closer to us. I munched on some jerky, feeling like I was in heaven.

About then the turkeys shied away from us, and I was startled to see that a group of elk were coming straight toward us out of the trees. As they got closer, the other people jumped back in their car. The park literature repeats over and over that you must never, ever approach wildlife. They fail to mention what you should do when the wildlife approaches you!

These elk were huge, and I had no car to hide in. I put the scooter between me and them, or at least tried to. It seemed a lot smaller all of a sudden! Several of the smaller, younger elk - not calves, but not yet fully grown, came right up to the scooter and sniffed the windshield. Their curiosity won out over their instinctive fear, apparently. They were less than 5 feet away from me at this point, but by now the herd was encircled around me. I just stood still, and hoped their parents were not aggressive or overprotective. The bull's antlers looked very sharp and intimidating!

While the young ones sniffed my scooter, I slowly held up the camera, and took a sly shot or two. Sadly, I couldn't really aim nor do much to make the pictures turn out well. I probably shouldn't have taken them. But the elk didn't seem aggressive or afraid. The youngest calves stopped to nurse just feet away from me, but the Moms kept their eyes on me, so I just stood very, very still. This was not a petting zoo; these elk were taller than me, and weigh in at over 500 pounds!

We all stood there for about 30 minutes, just looking each other over. I was afraid to move and break the spell. It was like being in a dream, with everything happening slowly and shrouded in the early morning mist. Eventually the herd slowly drifted back toward the trees, again trailed by some stray males looking to steal a herd of their own. By 8:45 they had faded back into the trees, and I learned later that you don't see them again till evening comes. If you want to see them, you have to be there at sunup, or sundown.

I also found out later the herd was started in Chataloochee about 10 years ago, with 30 elk. There are now about 130 of them, and the rangers are no longer putting tracking collars on the newborns, because the herd is considered well established. I swear I saw about 120 of them myself that morning! We were surrounded by them; I saw them every which way I turned, both nearby and far away.

So often we go a long way to a special place only to find it fails to meet our high expectations. But then sometimes we get all we could hope for, and then some! This was one of those mornings. For a short time I felt awe and wonder like a small child does. Time seemed to stand still, and it felt impossible that I was really in the middle of this incredible world. All that mattered was that moment - every sense heightened, each passing second like a whole new story being told. The elk, the mist, the mountains - all of it was so overwhelming - and yet so blissfully quiet and peaceful.

I stood there for a while after they were gone, almost expecting to wake up from a dream. The sun was getting warm, and a lot more cars were coming by then. These poor souls were too late, though. The elk were now gone - even the turkeys had moved on. I would have to brave the road out - got stuck behind several of those RVs leaving the campground. The trip out took even longer than the cautious ride in, but I no longer cared. I had the ride all the way down to Georgia - it didn't matter. I would smile for the rest of the day, even with another 300+ miles to go. I had an elk nose print on the upper corner my windshield.

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