 Biking the Blue Ridge Parkway
Allen Johnson — 1 August
2008
As I pedaled up a long, steep hill at five miles-per-hour
(MPH) with my legs burning and sweat dripping off my nose,
I tried to remember why a year ago when I started planning
this adventure I thought biking the Blue Ridge Parkway
would be such a great idea. As I reached the top of the
hill and caught sight of the fabulous mountain scenery
below me, I remembered.
I planned to take my seven-year-old great-granddaughter,
Kaysie, on this 500-mile bike ride. One day into the ride,
Kaysie became terribly homesick and I had to drive her back
to her mother. Not to be deterred, I returned to the Parkway
and restarted my ride at mile zero near Waynesboro, Virginia
headed south.
The scenery turned out to be as beautiful as I imagined:
breathtaking mountain vistas, sparkling clear streams, abundant
wildlife, sweet-smelling flowers and very little automobile
traffic. Early one morning I biked for an hour and a half
without meeting a single car or person.
I started out planning to make the ride unsupported, no backup
vehicle following me. The very first day I ran out of water
and energy after biking 40 miles, mostly uphill. I had 17
miles to go and no prospects of getting water or energy so
I hitched a ride to the turnoff for my motel. Then I rode
my bike screaming down on a four-mile-long, eight-percent
grade to my motel 1,500 feet below the Parkway. The nearest
restaurant was two miles away. The though of pedaling back
up that eight-percent grade the next morning just to get
to the Parkway so I could start my 50-mile ride made me reconsider
the idea of a support vehicle. I called a taxi and had the
driver take me back to my starting point where I had parked
my car. New plan --- drive to the Parkway, park my car and
bike my 50-mile leg, then park the bike and hitchhike back
to get the car. This worked like a charm. It also gave me
the opportunity to drive into town in the evening, find a
Panera Bread Restaurant and use their free wireless connection
to e-mail my wife back home. In addition I located a Laundromat
to wash my limited wardrobe.
 With the new support plan I started fresh for my bike ride
along the Blue Ridge Parkway from mile marker 45 the second
day. The flowers I encountered were fantastic. Huge bushes
of flaming golden azaleas, 10-foot long clusters of purple
rhododendrons, walls of white mountain laurel, white Japanese
dogwood, blue forget-me-nots and dozens of little small yellow,
purple and white flowers sprinkled in between.
I only encountered light traffic on the Parkway which didn't
seem to scare the animals away so once an hour I saw a deer
eating leaves off a tree, a wild turkey scratching for seeds,
a hawk circling the cliff edge or a bobcat chasing a rabbit.
Having the car allowed me to find a good restaurant in the
evening. In Blowing Rock VA I found the Six Pence Pub and
had a delicious shepherd pie, a traditional British meal.
I also had the good fortune of finishing my daily ride early
enough to visit the Tweetsie Theme Park in Boone VA. There
I had the thrill of riding Thomas the Train, a real train
engine pushed by a 1943-steam locomotive on a five-mile track
around the mountain in a wooden rail car with no windows.
I had forgotten what coal smoke and cinders tasted like.
Back on the Parkway I biked to Mabry Mill near the Meadows
of Dan. This 100-year-old gristmill is the most photographed
site on the Parkway. I toured the mill, watched the blacksmith
pound red-hot iron into pothooks with his mighty hammer and
enjoyed a foot-tapping hour of Blue-Grass music from the
Buck Mountain Band.
I encountered a lot of butterflies each day, black ones with
orange spots, black with blue spots, orange ones, yellow
ones and white cabbage butterflies. At one of the viewpoints
along the Parkway they had an information placard noting
that the monarch butterflies flew past here on their migration
route. The monarchs fly to Mexico in the fall and return
in the spring. How a fragile butterfly can fly that far is
a mystery.
I stopped at the James River Bridge to visit the reconstructed
canal lock that allowed the canal boats to avoid the river
rapids 100 years ago. That bridge is also the lowest point
on the Blue Ridge Parkway at 649 foot above sea level. From
there I biked up and up and up. There doesn't seem to be
a single stretch of the Parkway that is level. I pedaled
uphill at five or six MPH and downhill at 30 or 35 MPH. That
meant that on average I spent 50 minutes of every hour biking
uphill and 10 minutes coasting downhill. Because of all the
ups and downs, the Parkway guide calculated that the total
climb for the 469-mile ride is over 48,000 feet or a little
over nine miles. Therefore, on the average I gained altitude
of almost a mile each day. No wonder my legs were so tired
each night. As soon as I arrived at my motel each evening,
I filled the bathtub with very hot water and soak my legs
of 15 or 20 minutes.
As I approached Asheville NC I started noticing a high-pitch
buzzing noise. Then I started seeing live and dead cicadas
along the road. The noise got louder and louder until it
was almost deafening. That night on the local news, the announcer
said there were several million cicadas per square mile and
that the black bears were feasting on them. I'm glad someone
liked them.
 Some mornings I biked through heavy fog until the sun rose
high enough to burn it off. The fog felt cool, almost like
riding with an air-conditioner blowing on me.
Several time as I struggled uphill, pumping for all I was
worth, I passed a clump of wild honeysuckle in bloom. The
sweet smell of the honeysuckle gave me renewed energy and
I'd pedal up to the top of the next hill in no time.
Beside the beautiful scenery and animals, I met some interesting
people along the way. At Rocky Knob I spent the evening talking
to Diannah who managed the seven 70-year-old cabins built
for the Parkway construction crews in the 1930s. She said
that she and her son took her grandson for hikes to explore
the forest around the cabins. On her hikes she discovered
other crumbling foundations where the barracks, dining room
and other construction camp building used to stand. Near
Spruce Pines I met Norm, a retired plumbing contractor from
Maryland with 12 grandchildren. He was driving a fire-engine
red Mercedes MX5 sports car. He said his 5-year-old grandson
asked him if he could have the car when Norm got too old
to drive it. Then near Asheville NC I stayed with my old
friends, Rob and Del Ewert. They built a beautiful home on
the top of a mountain and help manage a non-denominational
religious facility called the United Research Light Center.
Rob and I talked about the wonders of nature and discuss
the idea of intelligent design.
There are 26 tunnels along the Parkway. The short ones were
no problem, but the long ones were as dark as a cave. I carried
a laser-diode headlamp that I put on when I rode through
the long ones. It gave off enough light that I could see
the yellow line and reflectors down the centerline. One of
the tunnels measured over a quarter of a mile.
I carried two water bottles on my bike since there usually
wasn't anywhere to get water during my daily 50-mile ride.
Each day I filled the bottles before I started and the water
at each location tasted different. I got my best-tasting
water from Rob and Del's house. Their well on top of the
mountain contained some healthy minerals that gave the water
a fresh taste and no chemicals. Very refreshing.
During my 10-day bike ride I only met four bikers that were
riding unsupported, carrying all their gear with them on
their bike. I met one group of 10 bikers who were supported
by the Black Bear Adventure Company. For four days running
I started biking at 6 a.m. and the Black Bear bikers started
later, but they would pass me about noon. Then I would catch
up with them at the motel or lodge that night. I met another
dozen or so bikers that were out for a day ride. They would
drive to an interesting starting point, leave their car and
then bike out 15 or 20 miles along the Parkway, turn around
and bike back to their car.
 Day after day I observed thickly forested scenery on both
sides of the Parkway. From my 3,000-foot altitude vantagepoint,
I could see 15 or 20 miles along each side of the Parkway.
I encountered unbroken forest for almost the entire 469-mile
length of the Parkway. Often I could see three or four mountain
ridges paralleling to the Parkway completely forested. Occasionally
there would be a few open fields, but not many. The Parkway
rangers I talked to said there used to be more farms and
fields, but the mountain land is so poor for growing crops
that most of the farms were abandoned and have reverted back
into forest.
One warm morning I became over heated as I pedaled up a long
hill so I stopped by a sparkling brook called Otter Creek.
I took off my shoes and socks and soaked my feet in the cool
mountain stream. Totally refreshed, I dried my feet, put
my shoes and socks back on and sped up the next hill. Occasionally
I would stop for a short nap. It is amazing how rejuvenated
I felt after a 15 or 20-minute rest.
As I got near the end of the Parkway, the altitude climbed
to 4,000 feet, then 5,000 feet and finally 6,000 feet. Even
though I had been biking seven or eight days by that time
and had built up my leg muscles, I still felt the effect
of the altitude. I had to stop and rest more often on my
uphill climbs and my legs started to give out earlier each
day as the altitude increased. I guess I should have done
my practice rides in Colorado to get used to the altitude.
On the tenth day I biked up to the Richland Balsam Overlook
at 6,053-foot altitude, the highest point on the Parkway.
The road continued downhill from there.
Did I enjoy the trip? Absolutely, but I wouldn't do it again
without a support car following me and carrying my gear.
End
Newsletter Archive:
70-year-old
Completes Ironman Challenge
Setting Goals—The
Ironman
Walking
Hadrian's Wall — Part 1
Walking
Hadrian's Wall — Part 2
Walking
Hadrian's Wall — Part 3
Canadian
Rocky Mountain Horseback Adventure |
