Lana and I left Mom’s about 8:30
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Lana and I left Mom’s about 8:30 |
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Setting my destination in the GPS. |
Headed North. |
| I led Lana out of town to I-95, said goodbye in the parking
lot of a truck stop (how romantic!), and headed north at 9.
I was heading north alone. Richard is self-employed, and a job came up, so he decided to work rather than ride. He said that he could probably knock the job out in a day or two, so he might meet me in a few days. It's always nice to have a buddy along, but riding by yourself adds a different aspect to a trip. You ride when you want to, stop when you want to, make a picture when you want to, pee when you want to...total freedom. It had been a while since I had a few days on the bike by myself, and I was looking forward to it. |
The last that Lana would see of me for a week. Poor girl... |
Traffic was heavy all the way through Columbia, South Carolina, cleared, and then got heavy again after Charlotte, North Carolina. As I77 crossed the Virginia line, I entered a new world. Mountains rose up, the road became serpentine, the views improved. This is what I had ridden 400 miles to see!
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In a few miles, 77 crossed the Blue Ridge Parkway, and I traded the bland, boring Interstate for a sublime ribbon of asphalt that cut through dense forest and verdant meadows. |
At 3:30 I arrived at Meadows of Dan, Virginia (named for the meadows along the Dan river), and the Willville Motorcycle Campground. There I met the owner, named Will (imagine that!), and a couple of other people who were riding through. Will and I talked a bit about the V-Strom. He had recently sold his street bike and had a Strom craving. He said that a guy had been through recently on one that had over 100,000 miles!
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So far, there was only one other camper (Butch, a BMW rider who also had a V-Strom) in the campground. I set up camp and headed north 12 miles to Tuggles Gap for an early dinner…I had not had lunch, so I was ready to eat. Dinner was burritos and beer, and I chatted a bit with the only other customer in the joint, a trucker, and the waitress. They were both locals, and had grown up together. I asked the waitress if there was a liquor store nearby, she said no, but they sold beer and wine, so I bought a bottle of red from a winery right up the road for later.
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Shooting Creek Road |
Leaving the restaurant, I looked south and saw a sign warning truckers of steep grades and sharp curves. Hmmmm. Still had a few hours before sundown, so what the heck. My little excursion took me down 8 to 40, then up Shooting Creek Road to the Parkway, and back to the campground. I scared up 4 deer and some ducks at Mabry Mill, and had a grand time. Mabry Mill is the most photographed spot on the Parkway, and in season, you may have to park half a mile away and walk to it. As I came back south, I noticed that the parking lot was deserted. I only saw one car on the 20+ miles back. What a wonderful time to be here. |
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Tuggle's Gap/Woolwine/Shooting Creek Road loop. |
One other camper had showed up, named Nelson, who was on a 74 Norton Commando. He had owned all sorts of bikes in the past, but was now down to two old Nortons, this one and a 72. He only lived about 150 miles away, but had ridden 500 miles to get here on that old bike, just toodling around on back roads. He was also a bicycler, and had one of the smallest tents that I had ever seen. I wish I had taken pictures of his bike and his tent, but it didn’t cross my mind.
About sundown, Will built us a fire, and the 4 of us sat around and drank wine and talked till about 9.
It was 401 miles from Mom’s front door to Willville, and I rode a total of 460 miles that day.
