|
Story by
Scott A. Williams
Photography
by James A. MacCannell
Who in their right mind would trust
a boney New Englander about Southern barbecue? If you were right in your mind
you'd be reading National Geographic, so it's OK, you can trust me.
I've traveled on motorcycles from Cape Breton to Georgia, so you might also
trust me about roads to ride.
With me? Head for Franklin, North Carolina.
Franklin (population 3300) is the self-described Gem Capital of the World,
owing to the rubies and sapphires found in the area's mountainside mines.
Precious stones not your thing? There are gems for motorcyclists, too.
Snaking over, around, and sometimes through the mountains surrounding
Franklin are asphalt shrines to civil engineering. You won't find better
riding in the East.
For its size, Franklin is also a prime source of my preferred
heart-attack-on-a-plate: barbecue baby back ribs. Kansas City may be Barbecue
Capital of the World, but the Gem Capital trumps KC's roads any day. Conveniently,
Franklin is home to my Aunt Muriel whose newly-built digs offer mountain
views and a gateway to the region's roads. With Franklin as hub, my buddy Jim
and I explore the region's byways and rib joints.
To gain local insight, we meet Muriel's friend Paul who points out roads he'd
ride if he still had a motorcycle. As we consider his roadmaps (including one
in topographic 3-D), Paul shuffles through old photographs. There's his Honda
750 Four, long since sold, and the V65 Magna, his last mount. He's taken by
my ST1300ABS, fresh from its break-in service.
On Paul's advice, we start south on North Carolina 28. Winding along the
Little Tennessee River, the new ST begins to reveal its character.
Fuel-injection gives instant throttle response, so there's a learning curve
to dial in smooth revs. The linked binders allow easily controlled
throttle-on speed in the twisties.
The intense curves of NC 28 lead to Highlands, a well-to-do hill town with
arty shops, galleries, and restaurants. Bar Harbor meets Key West in the
mountains. For good eats, Hilltop Grill serves a barbecue sandwich with a
local twist: sharing the roll with my beloved barbecue pork is a layer of
cole slaw. Very tasty.
At Bridal Veil Falls (NC 28 north of
Highlands), you drive behind the cascade. Here the author cools down.
We continue through Cashiers (say "CASH-urs") and Sapphire,
picturesque towns dotted with real estate offices and the gorgeous mountaintop
homes they'd like to sell you. Just beyond Oakland, Toxaway Falls roars under
the road and down the rocks.
A left on NC 215 points us north through Pisgah National Forest. Rock
outcrops reach over the switchbacks like fingers pointing to the doom that befalls
careless riders. We're continuously climbing, but the dense forest makes
altitude change hard to gauge. As we reach a ridge the broad vista proves the
rise. So does the plunge to 49 degrees, and my effort to install heated grips
is warmly rewarded.
We enter the Blue Ridge Parkway near Beech Gap and head west along the
Parkway's highest elevation. The easy turns along the ridge strike a
contrast with the hairpin turns that brought us to the ridge. The
Parkway's terminus delivers us to Great Smoky Mountains National Park, but we
head south on US 441 through the Cherokee Indian Reservation, resist the
allure of moccasins and boiled peanuts, and weave gently to our Franklin hub.
To thank him for a first-rate route, we invite Paul to join us for ribs and
conversation. We hit Fat Buddy's Bar-B-Que, where the T-shirts proclaim
"I sucked bones at Fat Buddy's." I pass on a shirt and go for the
baby backs. Bone-sucking good, all right, though more ribs will be sampled in
the coming days.
Next morning we venture north on 28. The curves range from tight to
treacherous and the views are magnificent. Curiously, the mapmakers don't
award Route 28 any scenic dots until we're 51 miles into the Nantahala
National Forest.
Sixty miles from Franklin, we stop at US 129 and Deal's Gap, population six.
Most days, many times that number come on motorcycles to attack an 11-mile
stretch of 129 known as the Dragon. With 318 curves in those 11 miles, the
Dragon will test the ST's capabilities (and the size of my cajones).
But first we pull into Deal's Gap Motorcycle Resort to swap stories with
riders who know the Dragon. Their sage advice? Stay on your side of the
road. There's also news of a roadblock in Tennessee with police and
cameras.
The author and James MacCannell along US
129 ("The Dragon") near Deal's Gap, NC.
We grab a bite (alas, no ribs) and a souvenir pin, then head north into
Tennessee. Across the border, the tar is flawless and 318 curves bank
perfectly. There's no shoulder, no guard rail, and no margin for error.
Missing a turn drops you into no man's land, somewhere between ditch and
ravine. This is called fun.
Eight miles in, where a lay-by overlooks the Little Tennessee, the Dragon's
drawing power is revealed on license plates: Ontario, Ohio, Florida, New
Jersey, Massachusetts. Each rider is here for these 11 miles. Some locals are
in the mix, and Dragon stories flow: the kid who runs the route in nine
minutes; the near-miss with the dump truck; the work crew recovering a recent
wreck that found a wreck and a body missing for two years. ("Whatever
happened to Bob?")
Where the Dragon's curves ease, the promised roadblock appears but it's
only cops directing traffic around a crew filming a TV commercial. Despite
the visual appeal of a new ST and my spiffy riding duds, I'm directed to move
along. Just as well because the Foothills Parkway lay ahead. This 17-mile
ribbon is to sweepers what the Dragon is to hairpins, although the officer
waiting beyond the Speed Limit 25 sign isn't filming a commercial. Or us,
fortunately.
We finish the Foothills with a right on US 321, then stay straight on Scenic
73 into Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Softly curving Little River Road
offers serenity, if no place to pass for 18 miles. At Newfound Gap Road, the
main route through the park, we head south.
Near Newfound Gap at the North
Carolina/Tennessee border.
On a previous trip (in a car), I stopped at the trailhead for Chimney Tops,
the tallest peaks in the park, and made the vigorous two-hour hike to the
summit. For a similar view today with less effort, we go on to Newfound Gap,
at the North Carolina/Tennessee border. An Appalachian Trail through-hiker
there meets a friend in a car to take on supplies; he plans to reach the
Trail's end atop Mt. Katadin, Maine in five months.
At 441 in Cherokee, we resist the allure of moccasins and boiled peanuts and
ride the winding four-lane to Franklin. As we gas up in town, Jim, a FedEx
driver by day, chews the fat with a UPS driver. Local roads? Big Brown's
lived in the area his whole life. He says there's no joy for truckers, but
there's a route bikers must ride: Wayah Road.
Here's more advice from a boney New Englander: on the subject of local roads,
trust your UPS man. Just west of Franklin, we turn right off US 64 at Mount
Hope Baptist Church, then left at Loafer's Glory onto Wayah Road. This
unnamed gray line on our map rates dots and slices through woods and hills
along the Nantahala River. Jim becomes selective about which captivating
waterfalls to photograph.
The 100-foot cascade at Bald River Falls
is easily viewed from your bike.
We zig left on US 74, zag right on US 129, then just past Robbinsville follow
NC 143 to the Cherohala Skyway. After 38 years of planning and construction
the Skyway was completed in 1996, and it just may be the best hundred million
tax dollars ever squandered on pavement. It's forty miles of esses through
wilderness, with no stretch that could be labeled a straight-away. Traffic on
this April Tuesday is nearly non-existent. The map's lack of dots is
scandalous.
At the western terminus in Tellico Plains, Tennessee, we find the Cherohala
Market. It has the first (or last) gas in 50 miles, and like the sign
says it's motorcycle friendly. All-concrete parking means no sunken side
stands. There's no-cost air, good eats, and seating with a clear view of
parked bikes. The "Bike Shed" accommodates several bikes under
cover. There are rider sundries like rain ponchos, dry socks, ear plugs, and
tie-downs. It's worth a visit simply for the helmet hooks in the rest rooms.
With benefit of gas, grub, and reflection, we reverse course. The Cherohala
Skyway is so inviting, the weather so perfect, the traffic so absent, today's
ride becomes an out-and-back. The ST screams, Jim is lost in my mirrors, and
the only evidence of Mankind is the road. I achieve 40 miles of motorcycle
Nirvana.
Though it's late April, trees are still bare at the high
elevations along the Cherohala Skyway.
Back in Franklin, we investigate Willy's Bar-B-Que as rib-joint-of-the-day.
It proves the best of our tour and rider friendly to boot. Before we can get
inside, an owner, Gary "Willy" Crawford, asks Jim about his Shadow
ACE, tells us of his VTX, and requests details of our ride.
As dinner arrives, the white-haired hostess drawls, "It's starting to
rain, boys. Y'all want to pull your bikes under the porch?" Much
obliged, ma'am.
Then another owner, Mitchell "Willy" Crawford, offers a primer on
regionalism in Southern barbecue. We learn that Willy's signature
tomato/vinegar sauce is the favorite style in these parts. Willy's baby backs
are smoked, then baked, then grilled; they are gastronomic art, and I achieve
one rack of barbecue Nirvana.
Next day climbing toward Highlands on NC 106, wet clay runoff along a blind
curve coaxes the ST's ABS to engage. Skid-free, I stay on my line – and,
thankfully, on route for a rib dinner. Moving south on 28 into Sumter
National Forest we encounter few motorists, seamless South Carolina blacktop,
and signs of thunderstorms. We alter course, heading west on US 76, but by
Long Creek a soaking (or worse) is imminent. Preferring to limit cooked meat
to the dinner table, we seek shelter in a new, yet-to-open gas station, content
to watch heavy weather cross our path.
West of Clayton blue skies prevail, but we tire of sharing the Southern
Highlands Trail with semis. At Hiawasee we turn north, then east on US 64
toward Franklin. Near Shooting Creek, purple and white wildflowers line the
roadside.
Spring has sprung along US 64 near
Shooting Creek, NC.
They are so brilliant we stop to admire but only briefly; there are roads to ride
and ribs to eat. For our last night in Franklin, it's no contest who earns
repeat business: we return to Willy's for another rack of barbecue Nirvana.
It's been four great days of ribs and roads.
RESOURCES FOR MOTORCYCLISTS
Willy’s Bar-B-Que
240 Cunningham Road
Franklin, NC 28734
828-524-0414
Fat Buddies Ribs & BBQ
311 Westgate Road
Franklin, NC 28734
828-349-4743
Hilltop Grill
4th and Spring Streets
("on the hill")
Highlands, NC 28741
828-526-5916
Franklin Chamber of Commerce
425 Porter Street
Franklin, NC 28734
828-524-3161
Deal’s Gap Motorcycle Resort
HC72 Box 1
Tapoco, NC 28771
800-889-5550
Cherohala Skyway
Blue Ridge Parkway
Great Smoky Mountains
National Park
National
Forests in North Carolina
The opinions expressed in this article are those of its author. The
author is not affiliated with the restaurants or businesses described herein
nor with their owners, managers, or employees.
More
articles
|
