Tail of the Dragon

The guys in my local motorcycle club have held an annual trip down to the Tail of the Dragon - a famous driving road on the border between Tennessee and North Carolina in the Smokey Mountains - for the last 16 years. I've been riding with them for a few years, and they extended an invitation to me to come along about a month before the trip. I was undecided, busy, and suddenly the trip left the next weekend. I decided to go along, knowing almost nothing about the trip.  However, I have lately been attempting to "Seek Discomfort" for growth and a more fulfilling life, and living a week with a few guys I knew and a bunch of strangers is exactly that.

Sunday:
I loaded my bike, a friend's project bike, and several sets of motorcycle armor in my Sprinter and headed 10 hours south. Around the time I got off the (gorgeous) highways in North Carolina I found a truck with MD plates and motorcycles in it, and followed it through the backroads into a compound in the middle of nowhere. Pulling in at the bottom I was relieved to find that I did know the driver of the truck ahead of me! He showed me around the abandoned compound, and as we explored and unloaded the rest of the crew showed up. We unwound, had a few drinks, and I was informed any bed I could find was mine. So I wandered in, found a random bed, and crashed.

Monday:

On Monday the plan was to head out across the skyway for lunch, and then hang out in the river. My backroad motorcycling skills were a little rusty, but one of the guys offered to lead me in his rally car. I was hesitant because I knew I was slower than him and didn't want to ruin his fun, but he was gracious, and, you know, seek discomfort. We headed out, and a couple miles in he reached out his window and started giving me signals I recognized from trackdays. Surprise coaching session! We blasted through the back roads, him setting a pace he knew I could handle but outside of my comfort zone, and I mostly kept up. Occasionally he'd pull into a scenic overlook and offer some tips (Rotate the shoulders more, look further through the curve, etc). It was a great way to shake off the cobwebs and get back into the mindset, and I thanked him profusely for the help.

Lunch was fun, I stayed at the restaurant to use the wifi for a work meeting, and then headed out to join the others at "Dirt Beach" - named for a friend who threw his bike into the woods at this turn on a previous trip. We hung out, skipped rocks in the river, and had a nice relaxing time. Afterwards, I headed up the road to see the waterfall, and then met up with two of the guys to run the "360 Loop" - named for rt 360 - which would explore some more backroads and then join up to the Tail.

A nice fun backroad, a bit of highway, and then around 6pm we got to the Tail right as the clouds started rolling in.  I was apprehensive, having read about the road, the wrecks, and worrying about holding up the boys. But embrace discomfort, etc etc. Lets do this.  We did the first few miles up to the overlook, and it was hard work. Very twisty road, full of surprising turns, and had random damp spots just to ratchet up the difficulty even more. At the overlook we looked at the darkening sky, I got a few tips on navigating the tail, and agreed to meet them at the bottom - so that they would have a chance to get off the mountain before the rain hit. I did the next 8 miles of tail as it got darker and wetter, and to be honest, enjoying very little of it. As I got to the bottom, it started pouring, and we road the rest of the way home in the wet, on thankfully-straighter roads.

Tuesday:

I had to work again in the morning, and then headed out to the tail to give it another shot. Now that it was sunny, dry, I knew what I getting into, and had developed a few tricks (lower gears are your friend) it was much better. I traded lead back and forth with the fastest Harley I saw the whole trip, noting his line and entry speeds, and we rode together up to the overlook, where I caught my breath and uncramped my arms, before heading back down the mountain. Going even faster this time, I finally saw the appeal of this mountain. It was so much fun! And almost everyone has excellent lane discipline and most drivers and riders will pull over so that faster traffic can fly by.  I had a late lunch with some of the motobros at the restaurant at the bottom, and then we headed back up the mountain. Ted had his wife riding pillion, so they put me in the lead. It turns out that when I go as fast as I comfortably can - that's about exactly how fast Ted's wife lets him go when she has dramamine. Those trackday junkies can boogie. Luckily I've long since accepted I'd be the slowest guy on the trip so instead of any embarrassment it was just a fun ride with friends.

Ben's shot of the nightly debauchery

I was feeling worn out, thighs and shoulders sore, with one pinky going numb from pushing the bars too hard in thin gloves, so I headed back to the cabin for dinner. Still sent it, of course. Every night we had volunteers who cooked for the group, and in return we all paid for the groceries. It was great. Burgers, barbecue, korean barbecue, so much great food.  After dinner we all hung out in the garage, had some beers, and I witnessed the best conversation of the week when one of the guys got back in from a side-trip to buy a trailer.

Dave: "There are so many pigs on the skyway tonight. Be careful up there"

Ben: "Did you get pulled over?"
Dave: "No, there were a dozen pigs on the road"

Ben: "Was there an accident? Why that many cops?"
Dave: "Not cops, pigs"
Ben: "Yeah man, Fxxx the police"

Other drunks: "FXXX THE POLICE!"
Dave: "PIGS! Oink oink! PIGS!"

Other drunks: "PIGS!"

Ben: "FXXX THE POLICE!"
Dave: "HOGS!" <-it was at this point I figured out what was happening
Ben: "Motocops?"  
Dave: "FARM ANIMALS. CURLY TAILS. WILD PIGS"

Everyone: "Ohhhhhhhh"

Ben: "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Pigs."

Wednesday: 
Now that I had enjoyed the dragon, I had one other task for the week: trick the photographers on the mountain into taking my picture for me, and posting it onto the internet for free. There are two ways to do this: 1) crash in front of them. 2) Stormtrooper.  So I armored up, and hit the tail fully stormtroopered out. It was fun, and a good excuse to dial it back a few percent and enjoy the ride rather than being in full attack mode, and everyone loved it.  Took several selfies with Harley riders (mostly for their grandchildren), and then dropped my bike. Right at the top, right in front of everyone. At 0pmh, failing to walk out of a parking spot. Luckily it didn't hurt anything but my pride, and I mostly see the funny side of it.

I headed back to the house, changed into cooler gear (I was sweating buckets as a stormtrooper), and went out to hit the tail on my way to Foothills Parkway for a solo ride. Foothills parkway is gorgeous. Amazing views, amazing pavement, impressive bridges on the side of the mountain, beautiful sweeping curves, and everyone is happy to let you pass and will usually signal you to do so as soon as it's safe. I came around one corner onto a straightaway and saw a sculpture of a bear. Who would put a bear sculpture in the weeds on the side of the road in the middle of a park? And are those mini sculptures behind it? Oh. Those are real black bears! A momma and two cubs, just chilling 20' off the road at the edge of the forest. Anyways, this is my favorite road in the area, and if you ever head down you should definitely hit it.

Thursday: 

I had to work half a day on Thursday, and the plan for the afternoon was to go boating! But all the boats were sold out. So we left to go tubing, I jumped in the back of a car and enjoyed a spirited convoy across the skyway. And the tubing place was closed. Schedules aren't a hard thing in the mountains, apparently. So we went to the gas station, grabbed some beers, and went back to Dirt beach.  Another rock skipping competition, some floating around the river, it was a great day, regardless of the plans. It was also nice to have an easy day, let the muscles recover, and just relax.  I did head up the skyway after dinner to watch the sunset though, which was beautiful. 

Linda's shot of the group

Friday:

Friday morning it was raining, so we went to a local meadery to check them out, feed weeds to their goats, and sample some meads. As we did so the roads politely dried up for us, so afterwards we headed up to the tail to hang out at the overlook with the crew. We posted up on the hill and chatted, watched the cars and bikes go by, etc etc. and then headed down the mountain toward the swimming hole. At the bottom I passed someone in an attempt to guide them into the pulloff to let the full parade they had accumulated pass their 10mph crawl... but they just got angry instead, so I got on the throttle and put some distance between us.  This lead me onto the portion of the road referred to as - I later learned - radar straights.  I think you see where this is going. I waved to the cop expecting a "come hither" but he ignored me, and I continued on my way. I passed the swimming hole using sign language to communicate the predicament to my friends, who encouraged me to continue on my way so that they didn't have to explain the contents of their cooler to Tennessee Highway Patrol.  Anyways, the officer pulled me over as I turned onto the parkway. He had me clocked at 62 in a 50, offered me a "place to stay for the night" which confused me momentarily, and I assured him I had accommodations. Then he lectured me for a while, and left to run the paperwork. I was wondering if I would get away with a warning, but he returned with a ticket for 90 in a 50, because "I know you've done more than 62 today". I was shocked and furious, but I bit my tongue, signed the "I do not agree but received this document" line, and proceeded on a very slow ride down the parkway.  [Post script: One of the motobros ((actually a motolady)) is a lawyer, who is friends with more lawyers, one of whom got the entire ticket thrown out pro-bono!]

Smiling would only have made him more angry...

When I returned to the swimming hole, they asked what happened. I told them "90 in a 50" and jumped off a bridge. (The swimming hole had a 15 foot bridge! High enough to be scary, high enough to leave a welt, but not high enough to be actually dangerous). I had a beer, told the story, and took a couple more jumps. It was scarier than I anticipated, and I'm glad I didn't think about it when I stepped to the edge the first time. But you know. Embrace discomfort. Push your boundaries. Live an interesting life. 

Photo by Linda. Thanks!

After we finished up, I headed up the mountain, pulled over to film the rest of the crew pass by, and cruised back to the house for food and drinks.

Saturday: 

I was in no mood to visit Tennessee today, especially on the day known for being crowded with tourists and police, so I took a cruise on the skyway instead in the morning. Really, the skyway is better suited for a sportbike than the Tail, and it was relaxing to have some spirited riding safely in North Carolina.

The afternoon's plan was dirtbikes. I spent a few hours helping the dirtbike guys switch out their street tires for knobby dirt tires, and then we headed out to the forest roads. I was honest with them: "I'm gonna try to follow, but I'll probably wise up and head back, so don't wait for me".   I could follow their dirt clouds for a while, but between the differences in tires and my newness at gravel I didn't have a chance. I had to learn as I went, getting used to the bike squirming around under me, trusting the bike to bounce over gullies and not jackknife into them. Once I accepted that I was going to throw the bike in the gravel at 25mph, and that that's ok, it was much easier. The dirt was fine, the hardpack fun, but the gravel made me work for it.  I missed whatever turnoff the boys had made, and rode ten long miles through to the other end.  I took a rest, shook out my arms, and decided, why not? And headed back, passing a "Road not suitable for passenger cars" warning sign. And thinking about it, I saw only trucks, a few adventure bikes, and some dirt bikes. Now that I was getting comfortable in the gravel, I realized how beautiful the woods were, as I paralleled a river through an old-growth forest. It was a blast. Stupid, but fun. And despite a few moments where I thought it was over, I never threw the bike in the gravel.

Back at the house I started loading the van and waited for the dirtbikes to return from their adventures. For dinner we packed up all our leftovers and headed back up the skyway to watch the sunset. It was a perfect conclusion to a great trip, perfectly discomfortable.