What a Day

Riding to Western North Carolina is nothing new for me, I live a couple of hours from Deals Gap and make the trip several times a year. But yesterday was a special day.

It was the last day of summer, an event I seldom pay any attention to but the weather was forecast to be spectacular. Hurricane Ivan had dumped great gobs of rain on Kentucky, Tennessee and North Carolina a few days earlier and the weather behind Ivan was simply picture book. Cool mornings, warming quickly to the 70’s and low 80’s in the afternoon and best of all LOW humidity. The sky was without end, just that pure color of blue that illustrators use when they color the sky in children’s books. No clouds, no haze, just incredible blue sky.

Best of all, I was going to share this day with one of my best buds, Big Al. A couple of years ago, Al had gotten back into motorcycling after a long lay off of about 25 years. This Spring , he bought a new Yamaha Road Star Silverado, really a great looking and running scooter. (Not as smooth as the Valk…but… the Venture in Black is really nice and since Honda dropped us… well…). At any rate I kinda shamed Al into this adventure and it worried me. His longest day in the saddle to date has been a couple of hundred miles, on fairly straight smooth blacktop complete with shoulders, guard rails and occasionally a broken yellow line in the middle of the road. For Al to join me, I had promised to stop often, keep a comfortable pace and play nice with the other children.

I kept watching the forecast on the Weather Channel, the motorcyclist best friend, for the perfect conditions and reasoned it would never be better. The date set, the business calendars were cleared, the staff support systems in place, we must go…NOW.

We left before daylight, around 7AM, and though neither mentioned the temperature, we both knew it was below 50 degrees. The temps were cool but we were ready with riding pants over the jeans, extra shirts, riding jackets and heavy gloves. The first leg of this day would be about 100 miles to Lake City, TN. The stop here was planned for a couple of reasons, it would put us through Knoxville after rush hour traffic and it help me keep my promise to stop often and besides, this was the first Cracker Barrel we would come to. The idea of starting this day, off my cardiac diet, with country ham, a small sett’n of eggs, biscuits and gravy was just more than I could refuse. The morning was cool enough for the fine efficient folks at the Cracker Barrel to build a fire in the fireplace, this not only added to the atmosphere, but warmed my cold aching body. What A Day!

By the time we left the fire, we were able to stow away the riding pants, as it was already warming nicely. We topped off the tanks, I had more need for fuel than Al, an oddity I would be reminded of all day. (Six cylinders, six carbs … two cylinders, one carb…you do the math)

We ran through Knoxville and onto Alcoa HWY without incident and soon found ourselves on the south side of Maryville. Planned stop #2. Although we had just been on the road about an hour, this would be the last chance to stretch, top off again and grab a bottle of water ( remember the country ham) before the twisties. A creature of habit, I always stop at the same place every trip to the Dragon. Perhaps I’m overly cautious, but I like to check out the bike after a couple of hours on the road; you know kick the tires. It’s even warmer now so we stow away the extra shirt and change the heavy gloves for lighter ones. What A Day!

We soon turned off the four lane onto the two lane section of HWY 129, I’m in front, Al following close behind. I get a bit concerned as we travel along, because the State of Tennessee has chosen this day to mow the right-of-way and the grass is spread over half our lane. I have ridden on almost every surface, but great piles of wet, juicy, green grass is one of my least favorites. Sure enough, I round a blind curve and fifty feet in front of me sets a tractor pulling a bat wing mowing machine, and a State Hwy truck parked in our lane. I was already traveling slow because of the mess in the road but I didn’t have enough time to stop. I did all I could, hit the gas and blew by in the left lane then quickly looked in the mirror to see Al following right behind me. We’re 10 miles from the Dragon and already my heart is bouncing on the inside of my chest. But this is just another deal that happens to all who ride. You go on, store the experience in the old memory banks, and rest in the confidence that you’re now a better rider for the knowledge gained.

For those who have never been blessed enough to take this trip to the Dragon Tail, you will be riding along through gently rolling East Tennessee farm land, and suddenly you come over a small rise and find yourself turning left along the banks of a wide river. River to the right and steep mountains to the left. The road even changes, from up and down, left to right, into flat and straight. I notice immediately the river looked different, it’s moving faster, there’s more of it and when I come to the dam (did I mention there’s a dam… there’s a dam a couple of miles up the river, alongside the road) water is pouring over the spillway of the dam. I have never seen this before. Remember I told you Ivan had dropped a few inches of rain on us recently.

I love this ride… at the foot of the Dragon is a picturesque mountain lake. I live on a large TVA power-generating lake, Lake Cumberland. In the summer the lake is ugly with it’s exposed mud banks and the volume of lake traffic keeps the mud stirred up and the water is a dirty coffee color, but this lake is different.

When I was a kid, I was told I had an allergy problem and was required to go to my local doctor twice a week forever and take shots. His office was behind the drug store and in his waiting room was a mural of this surreal mountain lake. I would set in his waiting room and daydream about that scene. I wondered if the lake was perhaps in Canada, and what it would be like to be in a boat fishing on the lake and dream about the wildlife that would come to the shore of this mystical lake and drink the clear, cold mountain water. This Tennessee lake reminds me of those days waiting to get my shot. There’s no ugly mud banks, but instead the tree limbs hang over the waters edge gently touching the surface, the color is not dirty coffee but a deep blue-green color that looks clean and pure.

Back to our road…it continues to follow the river-lake. It just peacefully meanders along beside the water, giving out no hint as to what awaits. Like the slow gentle climb of the roller coaster just before it releases you over the top into heart thumping, screaming, white knuckled excitement.

Al had ask me how he would know when we are on the Dragon. Laughingly, I told him about the sign. The State of Tennessee has placed a sign that suggest that large trucks may want to find an alternate route. ( Motorcyclist who worship at this “Temple of the Curve” should pay alms to two accounts… 1) North Carolina, to purchase asphalt and 2) Tennessee, to purchase a sign the size of a billboard, that lights up, flashes yellow and states plainly… THIS ROAD IS TO NARROW FOR LARGE VEHICLES…TURN BACK NOW).

I lead as we cross Tab Cat Bridge and start up the Dragon Tail to the overlook where we have planned to stop and enjoy the view and snap a picture or two. I wanted a picture of the two scooters against the back drop of the endless sky. There was a couple there who had traveled from Cades Cove that morning. While Al was talking with them, I noticed the white mist rising above Calderwood Dam below the overlook, we surmised the spillway must be open, this was different. We wished them well and Al lead us through the 318 curves to Deals Gap. The traffic was light and the curves were as advertised. What A Day!

Motorcycle people are different. At the Deals Gap Motorcycle Resort, planned stop #3, you will find every conceivable piece of two wheeled machinery with the individual who is responsible for placing that contraption in the parking lot. I always enjoy watching the people. Often they are in a group of like minded folks; sometimes a couple, locked together on the back of a powerful machine one placing their total trust in the other and then maybe solo, often like myself, but not today. I had tried to tell Al about the resort, the Tree of Shame and grab bag of bikes but it’s just something you must experience.

I love motorcycles, whether it’s a Cruiser - metric or American… Dual Sports - Tiger, GS or V Strom…Sport Bikes - any combination of letters … Sport Tours - Honda, Yamaha, BMW or Ducati … Dream Tourers - 1800 or 1200. You will find me kicking tires, perhaps talking to a local about his Tiger, or the couple from Atlanta climbing off the back of their Victory or the young stud from Memphis jumping from the pad of a CBR, dressed in colorful leathers with a helmet that looks like he stole it from Darth Vader. The individual may be wearing a Stitch or leather chaps, a tank top or armored jacket but one thing brings all these people together, they must travel the roads to get here, this place is on the way to nowhere. Not everyone who owns a motorcycle is willing to do what it takes to get to this location, this waypoint in the mountains, Deals Gap, North Carolina. On this the last day of summer, all these machines and their riders were there. What A Day!

While at the Gap, a couple stopped by, climbed off the back of their big black machine and the lady walked over to the deck and joined the conversation. It wasn’t long before we learned they had ridden from Fontana Dam where the spillway was open. This news excited Al because this was an event that only happens once in a blue moon. It wasn’t long before we were mounted up and tearing down the road to see this singular occurrence.

Fontana Dam is a monster wall of concrete, placed between two steep mountains. It was one of the first dams built by TVA to control flooding and generate power. The dam is so high the water could not be released over the top, but is released through concrete tubes, perhaps fifty feet in diameter and several hundred feet long that directs the fall of water straight down the face of the dam into the river below. The force of the water falling is so powerful the tubes are curved upward at the bottom shooting the water down the river, hundreds of feet, to help soften the impact.

It’s a good ride on HWY 28, paralleling another waterscape in route to Fontana Dam. To our good fortune, the spillways were still open. The force of the falling water could be felt through the millions of tons of concrete we were standing on. The power of the water entering the tubes seemed to create an artificial gravity that wanted to pull you along with it and the noise of the crashing water below left little to the imagination of the awesome power this manmade redirection of nature’s energy. We’re impressed with the reality that it may be years before this example of man’s attempt to control nature is put on display again, but this day we got to experience it, What A Day!

Ready to leave Fontana Dam, we had a decision to make. Which way to go to finish the loop? We looked at the map and I explained to Al that we could go East to HWY 143 then ride south to Robbinsville or backtrack to Deals Gap, then south on 129 which takes us to Cheoah Dam and then on to Robbinsville. We chose to backtrack and see if the spillway on the Cheoah was open. The ride back to the Gap was covered quickly, and soon we were turning south on HWY 129.

Most Americans have experienced this part of our ride. In the movie, The Fugitive, Harrison Ford jumps from a dam into the raging water below and escapes the long arm of the law. The filming was done at Cheoah Dam. The other unusual thing about the Cheoah is that you do not cross the river atop the dam but on a bridge below. Fugitive Bridge is below the dam almost on the river’s surface where you look straight up the face of the dam. You’ve seen it from the top-down in the movie and you’ll see it from the bottom-up from the bridge. And yes, the spillways were open. The overflow was pouring over the top of the Cheoah, hitting the river below making a white cloud of spray rising up the face of the dam. A special day for special sights, What A day.

We traveled on to Robbinsville the road winding along beside the river for several miles before we leave the water for mountain views. In Robbinsville we stop so we can fill up the bikes and empty the bodies. Planned stop #4. We make sure some of our warm gear is handy because we are about to travel across the sky, a mile above the sea, into a land that’s all it’s own. The last time I traveled the Skyway was early May and it was summer at 2000 feet, warm and bright and late winter at 5000 feet, cool and raining.

The Cherohala Skyway was finished in 1996 after 34 years and 100 million well spent tax dollars were invested to build a road across the top of the mountains from Tellico Plains, TN to Robbinsville, NC. This was our finial destination.

We left Robbinsville with full knowledge that HWY 143 is not to be taken lightly, it is curvy and narrow in places and just because it doesn’t have a cute name does not mean it can’t bite you, hard.

We arrive at the start of the 50 mile trip over the Skyway. We watch the signs marking the altitude, 3000 feet, 4000 feet, 5000 feet, waiting for the temps to fall but it never gets uncomfortable. As usual we meet little traffic as we cross the Skyway, mostly motorcycle traffic on this day, I think mainly local. The Skyway is famous for it’s breathtaking scenery, but the road is not too bad itself. The surface is very smooth complete with rusty guard rails, it’s not the intense ride of the Dragon Tail, but the curves and sweepers are severe enough that you must stay alert. If you want to look, pull to the side, there are many overlooks, some complete with facilities.

We stop at the Santeetlah Overlook, elevation over a mile high, planned stop #5. Instantly, my simple mind registers why the air is not significantly cooler. The sky, there was no haze, no clouds, nothing to block the sun. I notice that I have never seen such great distances from the Cherohala before. We could literally see as far as the curvature of the earth will allow. And as a special treat, beginning around 4000 feet, we started to notice the leaves turning their fall colors. Not the drab hues of late autumn but the bright reds and yellows of an early fall season. What A Day!

Al leads as we descend into Tennessee. Nearing Tellico Plains, we again follow the wonderings of a river. This part of the highway is complete with pull-offs, parks, Lodges and restaurants, and I realize that we have not eaten since this morning and it is now almost 4:00, truly out of the norm for me. This alone should tell you how special this day has been.

We stopped and consulted the map to choose a route home, we can return via I-slab, or byway. I let Al choose, this was his longest adventure and I wanted him to feel comfortable with the ride… bless him… he chose, byway.

By the time we got back home it was 8:30 PM. According to the GPS, we had traveled over 480 miles in 13 ½ hours. It’s beginning to get cool again, the air is getting heavy with moisture. We pull over once again to top off and say our good-day’s. We parted as we met, friends forever. WHAT A DAY!

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