When I was in primary school, every fall the teacher would invariably ask, “What did you do on your summer vacation.” Back then, I never had much to say. I did the usual stuff kids do, mostly playing around the house with the other neighborhood kids who were also home during the summer. But not this year–for the first time, I went on a real summer vacation!
“I’m going to bicycle the Blue Ridge Parkway,” my friend said. “Do you want to come?” I thought and thought about going. Could I do it? . . . was I in shape? . . . Was I up for this great challenge? . . . I answered yes and before I knew it, I was being dropped off at the chosen starting point for the trip.
The Blue Ridge Parkway is a 469 mile stretch of touring road that traverses the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains through Virginia and North Carolina. We started our ride at mile post 176 at a little place called Mabry Mill. This is an actual working grist mill where mountain folks mill corn and wheat.
Just about everything on this trip was a challenge. The hills were ever prominent, lurking ahead of us as we rode along. Still, I expected the hills and had trained well for them. What took me by surprise was the weather. There were howling, gusty winds that nearly blew our bicycles right off of the road; there were storms with lightening and thunder that rumbled through the sky like rockets; and we were pelted with hail stones one afternoon that left bruises on my legs for days. But after the storms, that ever so glorious sun came shining through and we soon forgot about the hardships we had endured.
You can really lose yourself in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The history in this area is extraordinary. You can imagine gigantic dinosaurs walking through the great wide open spaces along the scenic parkway. All along the roadside were deserted cabins of people from the past. People like Orlena Puckett who was a midwife during the 1800’s. She was credited with delivering over 1000 babies throughout her lifetime–but none of her own 24 children lived past infancy. Daniel Boone once explored these parts with a passion for adventure we know little about in today’s world. I imagined him walking through the countryside, looking through the trees to find a great Indian chief!
The countryside seemed thoroughly untouched by our present-day world of industry and high technology. The wildlife was prevalent with wild turkeys, deer, and wood chucks running through the nearby fields. Grazing land for cows, sheep, and horses was abundant and because it was early summer, many animals were caring for their young.
The spring-time wild flowers were abounding with a rainbow of colors covering the endless meadows of grazing land. I was constantly stopping to take a photo of yet one more flower I had never seen before.
There were many quaint little country towns just off the parkway that became very dear to our hearts. We took a rest day in a town called Glendale Springs that turned out to be marvelous. We walked through the Church of the Frescoes, a mountain craft shop, and ate breakfast at the local bakery. And in the afternoon, we gave a country western dance class to a group of seniors who were just delightful.
If I had to pick out one thing about the trip that I will remember the most, it would be the many interesting and wonderful people whom we met along the way. There was a woman who invited us into her home during the hail storm and, even though we were soaking wet and gritty from the storm, she insisted we make ourselves at home. She served us hot chocolate to warm our bodies. There was a restaurant owner who made dinner for us even though he had already closed his shop for the day. And of course, two of the dearest people I know–June and Sam Thompson–who drove for six hours to get us to the starting point of our trip and another five hours to pick us up at the end.
It was difficult to leave the Blue Ridge Mountains, but I know in my heart I will return some day. Next time it will be in the fall season when the trees are in full color. Right now it’s time to plan the next bicycle adventure.