“Fair to partly gorgeous.” Dave
Connelly’s earlier prediction for the weekend’s weather held true as he, Sharon
Roggenbuck and I spun away from the Blue Ridge Hostel on Friday afternoon, April
27, kicking off the 3rd Annual Carolina Tarwheels Blue Ridge
Parkway Weekend.
Alex and Lois Coji, our
gracious hosts and owners of the Hostel, greeted us. Their big news was a
November forest fire that scorched 700 acres of hillside, the flames nearly
engulfing their beloved home. They were forced to evacuate for three days as
Western firefighters dug in around the hostel, setting backfires and dousing the
roof with foam. We could see the singed trunks of the just-sprouting hardwoods.
Everyone was OK, save one pet duck that perished.
The Parkway was in late
afternoon splendor. It was a crystal clear day – we could now laugh about last
year’s Friday ride in a thick, cold fog. “Here we are: reliving earliest Spring”
Dave commented. The trees, some barely in bud, appeared a few weeks behind those
in Piedmont climes.
Mike Freeman, Lyle Gardner,
Chuck Tharp, Maureen Kurtz, and Dan Anderson (a Tarwheel from Indiana!) were
already on the road, having arrived at hostel much earlier. We caught up with
them as they rode off one of the many local roads intersecting the Parkway in
southern Virginia. Chuck strongly recommended we take this unfamiliar foray,
even loaning us a map. He promised comparable scenic beauty without the traffic
volume of the Parkway. I was skeptical, but not for long. As we pedaled along
Road #608, it was a wonderful, pastoral setting - with zero traffic. We ended up
doing nearly 10 miles off the Parkway, taking several roads, all within a short
distance of the Parkway itself. Fancy Gap could wait until another day. We were
suddenly hungry, and hot Mexican food awaited us in Galax.
John Swartz and Wendy Roberts
joined our trio at the Tlaquepaque in Galax. This festive Mexican restaurant
(replete with silver-haired mariachi band) has such a voluminous menu it must
have taken us 20 minutes to make up our minds. The wait was worth it – the food
was hot and delicious. Perfect to wash down with a cold Corona or two. We joined
the other revelers for the last songs of a bluegrass band at the downtown
theatre in Galax. During the evening, the remaining Tarwheels in our group:
Alyson Hyman, James “Jetman” Rubin, John and Tanya Hartney, Lynne Wilson and
Paul Killough - began arriving at the hostel, and most everyone retired early.
Saturday
Everyone woke early to the
kitchen bustle and smells of pancakes and coffee that permeated our sleeping
quarters. There was food aplenty, thanks to the organizational efforts of
Maureen Kurtz. During our sumptuous breakfast, we spent some time introducing
ourselves to each other. I took this opportunity to speak of Lynne and Paul.
Lynne has been a friend of the Coji’s for several years, and is a true believer
in the Hostel philosophy. She also serves on the AYH Regional Board of
Directors, and is working to locate a hostel in the Triangle. Paul Killough –
one of the original Tarwheels - is truly the founder of these Tarwheel Parkway
weekends. He was leading Parkway rides from the hostel for years before I first
continued this tradition. Thanks, Paul!
I convinced everyone to head
south on the Parkway at least as far as Little Glade Mill Pond. I promised a
relatively easy ride, with the mill pond being a picturesque turnaround point.
The real climbing – to Doughton Park – begins shortly after. I convinced a few
Tarwheels – including the young racer Mike Fogleman, who arrived late in the
night - to go 70 miles – past the Doughton Bluffs, all the way to the Laurel
Springs exit. Catherine Share and Cindy Atkinson dropped by before they headed
north to Mabry Mill.
As we glided south on the BPR
toward Cumberland Knob, I spontaneously burst into song: “Perfect Day” by Lou
Reed – from his classic album Transformer. Something about the Parkway
has that effect on me. It was
apparently helpful to the other riders as well, as they suddenly picked up their
pace and sprinted just out of earshot.
A ride on the Parkway makes you put a positive spin on
everything.
Little Glade Mill Pond was as
idyllic as advertised, and a perfect stop for a rest. The day was so splendid, spirits so
high, that everyone decided to push on toward the climb to Doughton Park. It was hard for those not used to
mountain riding, but the delicious food and the celebratory mood of the Coffee
Shop staff on the first day of the season made for a memorable ride
destination.
The toil of the Parkway climbs
is followed by sometimes hair-raising descents, and you best be sure of your
riding skill and equipment before you let gravity take its course. Mike Freeman
had quite a scare when his STI levers came loose on a road bump and slipped down
on the handlebar. Suddenly, frightfully, Mike realized the source of an annoying
creak on his maxed-out Cannondale CAAD-4. Fortunately, Mike kept his cool and
had a valuable lesson for all of us – check out your gear before you
ride!
Even on the Parkway, there are
frequent reminders that we cyclists don’t have equal rights to the roadway,
according to some drivers. Wendy was blazing down from Doughton when a vehicle
approaching in the other lane suddenly confronted her! An impatient motorist,
despite seeing several bikes ahead, decided to pass anyway. The driver realized
his mistake and swerved back into the correct lane, but only after giving Wendy
an unexpected heart rate jump. Wendy didn’t panic, and had already picked a
clear line to safety – between the car, the guard rail, and a 500 foot drop off
the side of the mountain.
Neither of these incidents put
a damper on our day as our hardy group made the last climb from Fox Hunters
Paradise. We arrived back at the hostel, where preparations for the communal
evening meal were well underway.
Sunday
Tradition has been that Sundays
are ‘do-what-you-will’, with some riders heading for home, some heading to the
New River Trail, and others doing another jaunt on the Parkway. But first, there
was clean-up detail! I got to practice being a Navy Chief again, barking orders
and rousting ‘volunteers’. What a crew we had! Mike Freeman, Sharon Roggenbuck,
and Lyle Gardner tackled the ‘heads’, while the rest ‘turned-to’ on the galley.
Tanya wiped down the ‘reefer’, while Michael Fogleman ‘field-day’ed’ the men’s
berthing. In ‘civvie’ terms, we got the place pretty darned clean. We left the
hostel cleaner than we found it. This crew definitely ‘had all their sh*t in one
sock’ and represented our club superbly.
We bade farewell to Dan and
James. Dave, Chuck, Maureen, Lynne and Paul completed nearly 40 miles on the
NRT. The rest of us roadies headed for Fancy Gap and the World’s Finest
Convenience Store. The weather was almost chilly as we rested there long enough
to chat with some motorcyclists on BMWs and a professional mountain bike
racer-girl driving a yellow Porsche Boxster convertible, and to see John and
Tanya gassing up their auto, tired but satisfied after their trip to Mabry
Mill.