Riding along the parkway, we’re starting to find a routine. So far today, knock on wood, we haven’t spilled any drink in the RV, though the smell of sour milk is a subtle reminder that we are newbies, but we’re not going to cry over spilt milk.
We got back on the road and for a change; things went pretty uneventful, the beauty of the drive at each curve o f the road. The Southern end of the parkway is different from the parts I know well, you feel part of the landscape, the road cut into the side of the mountain, so each curve amazing as you look down the side of a mountain into the valley. Traveling from 400 down to 350, we enjoyed the tunnels (made by Spanish masons when the parkway was built), some short, some long. Built when the parkway was an infant, they’ve grown in to part of the mountain, covered in moss with their gray stones standing silently as the RV sped (OK, putted) through them.
Hitting the top of the parkway, Craggy Gardens, we were transported to a different place in time. Here we felt like we’d stepped off the mountains of North Carolina and back into the Burren of Ireland when we visited 5 years ago. The wind howled through the visitor’s center, I overheard the park employee say, “It’s pretty constant up here.” The rocky outcroppings, cool wind and lush green had us looking for a leprechaun around each corner of the trail we walked.
The valley below was beautiful, the reservoir , the tall mountains with the clouds creating dark shadows on them, only on closer perusal did we notice the tunnel on the road past the visitor’s center.
The parkway is getting more traffic, guess we're reaching the busy part. We’re passing more cyclists, more motorcycles, cars and yes, other RV’s. Max is now in the habit of telling me that each RV is much better than ours. "That one is like the BIG MOMMA, we're the little boy." "That one has bicycles on the back." I snort back to him, “I bet those RV’s don’t smell like sour milk and feet.” Two motorcyclists thanked us for pulling over on one section as we climbed a mountain, letting the cars pass then getting back on the road. Guess he wasn’t the one flipping me the bird. I still laugh thinking about that guy yesterday, stuck behind us for 20 minutes doing 20 up the mountain while my little cherubs made faces at him.
We’re sitting eating the biggest bowl of peach cobbler with vanilla ice cream I’ve ever seen looking out the window at a view that goes on forever. Just a short turn off the parkway and you find little gems like the Mt. Mitchell State Park Restaurant, dining at the highest restaurant in Eastern America! After a short hike to the summit, then back to the sour milk and feet smelling RV, but it’s our RV! Do you have any favorite spots of the parkway?
My favorite spot on the Parkway is whichever one you are writing about. Oh and of course the Viaduct.
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