Fall Colours Tour 2023

It is on to the Blue Ridge Parkway Drive today. This drive is over 400 miles and we are not sure whether we will do the whole thing. We have been averaging around 40 miles per hour on the twisty roads. The trees often completely canopy the road and there are lookouts every few miles.

But before we hit the drive we head for our free continental breakfast. Although we are barely into this routine, it already seems a bit old. Rudy says that the hot brown water that is offered can in no way be mistaken for coffee. I pass on the tea. Rudy has the waffles and I have a few scrambled eggs, and some Raisin Bran cereal.  It all sounds way better than it is. I overhear another group at the table beside us reading the ingredient list on the yogurt container and commenting that they have never had this much added sugar by this time in the morning before in their lives. Thank goodness though, there is 0% fat in the yogurt. 🙂

Rudy had discovered at public golf course on our route when researching the trip in Manitoba and this is where we head this morning. It costs $10 for nine holes. Rudy thinks it is terrible but I love it, partly because I have some decent shots in the first number of holes. But no matter what, it is an adventure and lots of fun. Not the least is the beautiful walk in the cool sunny air which, by the time we get to the 9th hole, has become very warm.

We hop in our van and are on the road by 11 o’clock. It feels great to be on the road again and basically we gaze at the beautiful trees and the vistas for hours. We are a bit like the quintessential tourists, pulling over every few miles to hop out of the van and take photos of the vistas.

We arrive in Roanoke, Virginia around 4. I head out to find a park to walk around and then Rudy and I meet at a Mexican restaurant for supper. The food is pretty authentic, and Rudy washes his down with a Margarita and I wash mine down with an Agua de Tamarindo. Time to get back to the hotel and write the blog entry.

 

 

 

Just when we think that we know what is going to happen the next day (more scenery on the Blue Ridge Parkway) we are surprised. But before I talk about the day’s adventures I must report on breakfast. Breakfast, a la continental, has become repetitive and it is hard to face it in the morning. For those of you who know me, you know I like a good cup of tea in the morning. I am a tea snob. I prefer a double bergamot earl grey with milk and honey. On this trip all that is offered in America’s Favorite Tea. Or at least that is how the Lipton’s sawdust tea is labeled. But….I have figured out how to make the best of it. Only steep it for a scant minute or so. Don’t allow the bitter flavours to take over. Then go to the fridge for the milk. Bypass the fake cream in the basket. Put a little white sugar in it and drink it hot. After the usual waffles and a delicious sausage patty (my standards are slipping) we head on down the trail. Even though we may have tired

The roads are curvy and the foliage is beautiful. Although the fall colours are not at their prime, they are still amazing. The landscape has changed. We are not driving on ridges now but rather through farmlands and meadows and, of course, the trees. We are experiencing rural America. There are run down (and regular) mountain houses with front verandahs complete with rocking chairs. There are wrap around verandas on some houses, and ponds and the names for roads are things like Snake Road and  Parsons Gap.We stop at Rocky Knob to go to the washroom and enjoy a walk around the vehicle and down the path. The sun is shining brightly and many people have set up their lawn chairs beside their cars and are enjoying the warm October weather. At Mabry’s Mill we are inundated with senior’s tours as they take in the authentic water wheel that runs a corn mill and saw mill. Seniors, literally on their last legs (hunched over with walkers) have lined up for the authentic meal at the mill restaurant.

After this we press on to the Blue Ridge Music Center where we listen to a couple of bluegrass musicians. One old man, who must be in his nineties, sings and plays guitar. His voice is thin with age but he has great stories and knows a lot of music. His musical partner is younger and plays the mandolin and violin. It is rich. we tour the music history museum. It is well done and pays tribute to folk music in America. Afterwards we decide our destination for the night is Mount Airy. It is famous for being the birthplace of Andy Griffith. The Andy Griffith show was popular in the 1960s. I remember the actor Don Knotts but other than that I am vague about it all. We pull into town and find a motel, only to find that there is going to be a huge fall festival going on in town this weekend. There are 3 stages with music as well as loads of vendors. We decide to stay in this town for two nights. Can barely wait until tomorrow. It may be a bust but really I am excited for the adventure no matter what.

After a supper of bread and cheese, olives, grapes, and wine, we turn in for the night.

You never know what’s around the corner and we are going to find out tomorrow.

Do I need to talk about breakfast again today? Yup. sure do! Today we have someone serving us hand and foot. The hotel has been really nice (at least by the standards of this trip) and they even go the extra mile at breakfast. You’d think that might be a step up but in this case, it is not.  The lady, and I mean a real southern lady with a great accent and all, hovers over us. She cooks us waffles (VERY toasted, although Rudy seems to love the rock hard offerings).  Rudy’s coffee is just slightly warmed. But all in all it is better than usual. I have some delicious chocolate milk (I used to hate the stuff) and a couple of tangerines. Stay tuned for tomorrow’s breakfast report.

After breakfast we rush off to downtown Mt. Airy to the much talked about Fall Festival. It seems like many towns in this neck of the woods have a fall festival. And so they should. Fall days seem to linger on and on and the temperature of 25 degrees is certainly nothing to complain about. We park our van and head down the miles and miles of street vendors. The people watching is good. It is amazing how many old folks are buying their fall and Christmas wreaths and decorations. Rudy and I pass on those. The food offering are all what you might expect: roast corn, funnel cakes (a type of donut thing), hot dogs, corn dogs, deep fried apple pies, candy apples, and more. There is bluegrass music and even a hell fire and brimstone street preacher.  People have their dogs out in the doggy walkers and the snippets of conversation that we overhear are worth repeating.

Hell Fire Preacher: “The Lawrd Jeesus don wanna see yawr cheeks when yaw bend ova….”

Middle Aged Southern Lady: (referring to the three pug dogs in the doggy stroller) “Eye naymed them Lavender, Buddercup,  and Huneysuckle. My little baybies”

Her Husband: “Yeaass, she naymed them after her fayvorite perfume..”

Dad: (to the teenage daughter) Hey Sweethaart, we movin'”

Middle Age Man: (to a friend) Years ago we done had a good agriculture minister. Ya know, not one that went to jail….”

we get real hot and tired and so we wander away from the crowds and end up at the Mayberry jail, courthouse, etc. that was used in the Andy Griffith Show years ago. I dimly remember it so we snap some pictures.

As usual I marvel at the old houses we pass and take some pictures of these homes probably owned originally by the wealthy Virginian tobacco farm owners.

Then off we go to our new hotel for the night. Because things are packed out in town we have to stay where we can get a place. Ug! It is terrible. Not sure whether this is a place they rent by the hour or by the night. We have no option so must stay here. We have a sandwich at the picnic table in front of the motel and head back into town for an evening concert and walk around.

Oh my goodness! We stayed in the worst hotel. The bed was barely bigger than a twin (I exaggerate, but only a bit). The cigarette burns on the coverlet were very off putting and the pillows were a lumpy mess. The carpet had just been put in during the day and so at least it was clean but the carpet glue smell was overpowering. The noise from other rooms went on until late in the night but, even if it hadn’t, the mattress was made of plastic and made a terrible scrunchy noise and the bed squeaked with every movement. We woke early, had a shower, and got out of Dodge. No need to describe the coffee or tea we may have gotten in the reception area because we did not avail ourselves of the brew.

We head off on the curvy scenic routes again. We pass places like Fancy Gap and Hillsville. There are Christmas tree farms, and meadows where livestock graze. Farms with old wooden barns and old farmhouses dot the countryside. It is beautiful and we forget about the dreadful hotel and the terrible sleepless night we spent there.

We make our way to Loudon Tennessee. The hotel is not that great but 5 million times better than last night. We settle in and go for a walk. But the walking is not that good so we head off in our van to a local Mexican restaurant. The food is great and the restaurant is filled almost completely with Spanish speaking customers. After we return to the restaurant I read and Rudy falls asleep, trying to catch up from yesterday’s sleepless night. Al in all, it has been a chill day.

Mmmm. It was a great sleep. We head off with renewed vigour. After breakfast at a local one of a kind breakfast place (McDonalds….have you ever heard of it?), we head down the road. We hadn’t gone far when our conversation turned to where, in Steinbach, the Krahns live. ( I am completely unsure what convoluted conversation took us to that topic, but I can assure you that the conversation was very important and it was VERY necessary to establish exactly where their house was.) The discussion got heated (but only slightly). Rudy was sure that the street (he called it a bay) curved. I understood this to mean that it curved back to Henry St.  I was sure it was straight. I knew it was, since I was sure that it intersected with Hespeler at a right angle. We argued over the street’s name. I won a point in the discussion by identifying the street as Evergreen Avenue. Rudy, seemingly annoyed by my knowledge, took another tack. It had to be curved because Beaver Crescent was behind the Lutheran Church. That seemed irrelevant to me and I stated as much.  He said it was of no importance what the name of the street was but rather the fact that it was curved. At this point I took out my phone to check it all out on Google maps. Rudy’s feelings of annoyance escalated and because he could not see the map, he announced, quite emphatically, that he would just PULL OVER. Despite the busy traffic he pulled onto the shoulder and we examined the map. He was happy to find that the street was curved and therefore felt he had won the argument. I also was happy to have won as Evergreen does straighten out and intersects Hespeler at right angles. Both, being contented with our superior knowledge, happily continued our journey.

We decided today to take an 11 mile loop in the Great Smoky Mountains through Caden’s Cove. It is a very slow drive that winds through beautiful scenery (do I say the same thing every day?). The weather was overcast and cool. We stopped at some old homesteads and walked through the trees.

After spending much of the morning idling our van in bumper-to-bumper single-file around the busy one-way circuit, we exited the loop and headed to Pigeon Forge. I imagined a rustic place but when we arrived we were shocked to find that it is more like a Las Vegas for the christians of America. It is filled with a million amusement parks, hotels, arcades, souvenir places,  and ice cream shops. All of the amusements are geared towards wholesome family fun. I noticed a comedy theatre that offered daily shows and immediately googled it, only to find that the program was mostly juggling and corny (but ‘clean’) jokes. We found a laundromat and did our laundry and then checked into our hotel. Tomorrow we will head to Gatlinburg which seems like it will suit us much better. Apparently we’ll find hiking trails and more scenic drives in the Smoky Mountains there.

I am not much interested in writing about this day because overall it was a downer. We woke up to rain and headed out. The dreary grey skies did not give much hope for the trail hiking that I had enthusiastically planned for today. We drove to Gatlinburg and up into the scenic loop. The rain did not stop.

As we continued on the VERY slow drive we began to meet cars with snow on their hoods and roofs. As we drove further up the mountain the snow got thicker. It was all quite beautiful and even though it felt like we were freezing to the bone we did get out at various stops. We hardly felt like hardy Manitobans as we shivered and hopped back into the van after short forays.  On the way down we actually did see a bear and cub so that was really sweet.

Back in Gatlinburg we searched for our hotel and finally found it. It was pretty awful and we were both feeling a little down. The rain continued to pour. We were trapped in our hotel room. We did run across the street to a Honduran restaurant to have supper. This was a highlight as it was exactly like what you would find in Central or South America — two TVs with low quality Spanish programming, electrical wires all over the place, only Spanish speaking customers, bad art, and plastic flowers. It felt just like home and the authentic food that we ordered from the kitchen was just what you would expect. I had tamales and Rudy had shrimp and rice. We ran back to our hotel in the pouring rain, stripped out of our soaked clothes and made the best of the rest of the evening by reading.

Morning dawns and the rain has stopped. We are happy to leave and to head to Nashville but before we go I am going to check out the craft show at the convention centre in town. Rudy drops me off and heads for a walk.

There are about 200 hundred vendors. The variety is huge. About 3/4 of them I am not very interested in. However some are really cool. There are the traditional mountain basket makers. These baskets are so sturdy and made from various trees that are split. There is one vendor who constructs small replica buildings out of wood and stone. There are old cabins, pool halls, churches, etc. and each of them are decorated with tiny furnishings and other paraphernalia. There are intricate and definitely reflect the buildings and places here in the history of this area. At one booth there are intricate knives and old replica rifles. Overall the hour I spend there is satisfying. Unfortunately there were no pictures allowed of the products.

And off we head to Nashville. It is mostly freeway driving and we leave the beautiful scenery behind. Once in Nashville we settle into our hotel and then take a shuttle down to the strip. It is just what you would expect; bars with bands, bookshops (selling cowboy boots and hats), and barbecue eateries. We wander from open window to open window listening to the music and occasionally stopping for a beer and a listen. We end up at Robert’s Honky Tonk and make our way to the balcony. We get a front seat. It is all magical. I love it. We are starving but in this type of venue along the strip the options are few. Rudy orders what is called the recession special — a fried baloney sandwich, a bag of plain chips, a moon pie, and a Pabst Blue Ribbon beer to wash it all down — all for $6! I order onion rings. We gobble them down.

The evening is eventful. Americans are super-friendly. A young man sits down on the stool beside Rudy and introduces himself.

So where are y’all from? Me? Well, I’m from a small town in North Carolina called Mount Airy?

Oh yeah? Well we were just there on the weekend.

For the Autumn Leaves Festival? Hey, I was working there. I made a quite a bit of money so now I’m here in Gatlinburg, spending it in this bar. Actually I’m the driver for this gentleman sitting here at my table. Do you read? Well, you may have heard of my friend — he’s Martin Clark, an author, and he’s doing a promotional book tour and I’m his driver.

We’re introduced to Martin Clark, who smiles at us and says hello. We turn back to listen to the band, and quietly google Martin Clark on our phones. Hmmm… Looks like Mr Clark is actually a pretty important and famous author — the New York Times calls him “the thinking man’s John Grisham.” Perhaps that will be the next book that I read.

After finishing our beers we wander up and down Broadway for a bit longer and then take the shuttle back to the hotel and settle in for the night. We’ve booked this hotel for two nights so for once we don’t need to worry about packing up and moving on in the morning. Ahhh… all is well.

No breakfast in the hotel this morning. Rudy makes some watery coffee and deems it somewhat acceptable. I am craving a real delicious cup of tea so we cross the parking lot and head to the Starbucks where I order a chai tea latte. Delicious. We head out for a walk and end up in an area called Salemtown. As per usual I am super interested in the architecture. There are old small houses here but also newer duplexes that incorporate a lot of the old style of old buildings. for example, front verandahs feature prominently and this seems to be a feature that has remained important throughout the years in this neck of the woods.

After our walk we grab the shuttle down to Broadway and take a walk over the river.

After walking on the Broadway strip and having breakfast at a pancake breakfast place we head back to the hotel and almost get sucked into an evening of lying around.

Finally we manage to rouse ourselves and head back downtown for supper (some bbq), beers and more music. The shine has worn off a little and we don’t find any great music that we can sink our teeth into. We finally stop in at a VERY LOUD and busy bar. The young woman fronting the band is working hard to keep the crowd in front of her dancing and having a good time. Rudy orders a couple of beers and we sit at a small table near the front and watch the old and the young shake their booties. The beer is good, but we are tired and when they’re empty we head back to the shuttle drop-off point. There are already a few other couples waiting at the curb. The shuttle is late; very late. By time it finally arrives there are at least a dozen people trying to cram into the 8 van seats in the van.

When we get back to the hotel we don’t wait long to call it a night. Rudy turns on the tv and shortly after Jimmy Kimmel’s monologue he is fast asleep.

We have decided to stay one more day in Nashville. We have had the good fortune to snag some tickets for the Jason Isabel concert at the Ryman Auditorium, known as the Mother Church of Country Music, and will see him and his band at 8 pm tonight. Not only is it a great concert but also a super fabulous venue. It served as the Grand Ole Opry for 31 years until 1974. It will be something to be at this place that has heard so many music greats.

We have to relocate ourselves to a different hotel. Rudy has spent a load of time figuring out the bus system and getting us bus tokens so that we can bus to and from the concert. So I am spending some time this morning trying to catch up on my blogging. I have let it slide because I have been deep in a book (The Constructed Mennonite by Hans Werner). It has been riveting both because of the story of the author’s father’s experiences in Stalinist Russia and World War 2 but also the reflection of how people construct memories and stories and the narrative that they want to project. It was really good. Now I have cut myself off from any reading until I catch up on this blog.

After we check out from our motel we go on a grocery run. We will get back to making lunches once we are on the road again tomorrow.  We stop at Kroger’s for fruit, veggies, and sandwich fixings. We also do a run around town to find some specific beers. A Tennessee brewery (Yazoo) makes a smokey dark beer called a Sue. Rudy discovered this on a sibling cycling trip a couple of years ago and we thought it was time to toast Sue again. After multiple stops we are able to find these beers at a place called Frugal McDoogals.

After this it is lunch time so we stop for some Nashville hot chicken and gumbo and then head off to sign into our new hotel for the night. Apple Annie’s Inn is a pleasant surprise. Everything is clean. However, some things are missing. We have washcloths and bath towels but are missing the hand towels. No coffee or shampoo, although they do provide a coffee machine and a shower. 🙂 Well you can’t win them all.

We organize ourselves and head to the bus stop. We can’t locate a stop where it says it should be and I start to hoof it on down the street to find the next stop. Rudy is sure this is stupid and that the bus will just stop here when he waves it down. I am not so sure. I know that technique works in Central and South America but it has never worked for me in Winnipeg. Even though a person is madly rushing for the bus stop, the driver may or may not pull over, but never just at a random place. The bus driver only stops at designated stops and this does not appear to be one of those.  Rudy is convinced that it will happen although I am left with a bad feeling that his assumption will not hold.

Do you not trust me? I will jump out in front of the bus and it will happen.

Well, it doesn’t happen. The bus rushes past us and we chase it down the road. There is no way we can catch it. We keep going and make it to the next bus stop, check our app, and realize that we can wait another 10ish minutes for the next bus and will still make it downtown for the concert.

After a quick Banh Mi that we share at the biggest food court I have ever seen (3 stories with everything from sushi, to pho, to burgers) we head to the Ryman. It is a beautiful old building originally built as a church venue. Our seats are on curved church benches and we are 6 rows from the stage. The stage is chock full of equipment. The opening act is someone we know nothing about. We have checked him out on the internet and based solely on his looks, we have determined that his music will not be something we will like. Surprisingly he turns out to be good. In fact Rudy comments that he is not as weird as he expected  and his songs fit loosely in with the country genre. He has a band of 9 others so there is a lot happening on stage. A couple of songs in, Jason Isabel joins him on stage to sing a co written song. The crowd is totally into this act and I think perhaps that he is well known to the concert goers.

 

And then Jason Isabel and the 400 Unit hit the stage. Jason starts out strong, singing solo, and the band joins  a few lines in. He is fantastic. He announces the band is doing the whole album Southeastern, celebrating the 10th anniversary of its release.  This explains the ceiling banner that is hung on stage complete with lights to augment it.  Southeast was a very formative album and they are going to play it start to finish. I am elated. I know this album very well and although I don’t sing along like most of the people beside me, I sure could for a lot of it. Speaking of people beside us, there are many who are worth mentioning. Ms. Leopard Print beside me is antsy. She is so excited to be her at the concert that she practically misses the whole thing. She is on her phone much of the time texting to those not there or maybe in other parts of the theatre. Mr. Grey Hair, sitting directly in front of us, with an adoring wife attached to his arm, has brought his sons to the concert to share his love of Jason Isbell. He is very active, leaning over and constantly talking to the boys. Two of them seem quite interested but the youngest (about 17 years old) is either not well or simply bored. He leans with his head on the back of the bench in front of him most of the concert. Has he vomited?  Maybe.  His dad hops around, sometimes sitting on the back of the church pew, much to the dismay of the lovely 4 foot nothing woman behind him. He is gregarious and apologizes profusely. Ms. Leopard Print tends to the sick? son. She waves a paper fan over him and an unpleasant smell wafts my way. It is a combination of old sweat, bad perfume, and something else. Vomit? Bad Gas? Not Sure. But don’t let this information suggest to you that we are not completely enjoying ourselves.  We are all enjoying ourselves, this whole great swaying mass of human weirdness is taking in this glorious concert.

All the musicians are fantastic. I especially like the guy who plays accordion, hammond B3 organ, keyboard, meletron, etc. His energy (and his good looks) are riveting. As soon as Jason and his band walk on stage the whole audience stands and stays that way for the rest of the concert. I know it is the cool thing that everyone does at concerts but seriously we could be just as excited and full of energy and actually exit the concert without sore backs from straining to see and aching feet from standing too long in our ill-fitting orthotics if we remained seated.

After a break for the band and some adjustment to the sound equipment on stage, the musicians are back for more. These songs are newer and some from his newest album. The show goes until 11:30 and we have to hustle to make it to the 11:45 bus, about an 11 walk away. The bus trip home is smooth. Well almost. When the driver takes off Rudy lands on my lap and any worries I have about sore back or feet is immediately forgotten. Rudy has a sore throat and can’t hear. I guess all the loud music have temporarily deafened him and his wild screaming and singing along wrecked havoc with his throat. (You know Rudy. He is quite the wild concert goer 😉 All that is to say is that the concert, music and weird people combined, were a complete and total success.

We went to bed late last night after the concert so we slept in until 8 am and woke to the sound of hammers tapping and construction workers calling out to each other, mostly in Spanish. It reminds me of our time in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico last winter where we were wakened each morning to the sound of work at the construction site immediately beside our airbnb.

Anyway, we quickly get ready and get out on the road. We are heading south towards the Gulf and stopping in Tupelo, Mississippi tonight. We have to get through the centre of Nashville in order to catch the highway south. We want to travel on the Natchez Trace Parkway at least part of the way but Goggle wants to direct us otherwise. Rudy puts me in charge of navigating, using Google as a backup. The long and short of it is that Google and I fail miserably. There are a lot of u-turns, wrong turns, and missed turns. When we finally get ourselves back on track in Franklin, Rudy is thoroughly exasperated. Not only has he missed the opportunity for a breakfast sandwich, he has not had his morning coffee. Franklin looks like an incredible Civil War Era historical town and I would love to wander around and experience the beautiful buildings and stories associated with them. There are log homes still inhabited, front verandahs galore, and other old frame and stone houses. It all reeks of Southern gentility. But the driver is  not in the mood for a stop so we press on.

The new mansions south of of Nashville is just what you would expect from watching TV. Huge multi-storied with large columns in front, huge verandahs, swimming pools, etc. etc. As we continue along the curving roads there are miles and miles of  rail paddock fences, beautiful horses, estates, and mega churches. There is a lot of money here. Eventually these places give way to more modest houses and even some trailer parks. We eventually hit the Natchez Trace Parkway and the driving is slower and there are no houses along the road. After a time on this Parkway we head across country along a busier road. I get the great idea that we should visit the childhood home of Helen Keller. Rudy is not as excited. But I remember the story written about her with great fondness so I insist on it. It takes a lot of winding down roads and streets in Muscle Shoals, Mississippi. Muscle Shoals has seen better days. This is an understatement. There are so many abandoned malls, gas stations with rusty pumps, and parking lots covered with weeds and dead grass and other signs of decay. We finally make it to Ivy Green, the childhood home of Helen Keller. There are magnificent massive trees (Magnolia) and a huge grounds. We wander around. It is super weird. I guess the Lions Club had become of huge supporter of Helen Keller and blind initiatives  when she spoke to a club as a young woman. The result is a garden filled with curling rocks from the Scottish chapter and Maori sculptures from New Zealand. An it went on an on through the gardens surrounding the home. It is a mishmash of so much junk and we leave feeling like it may have been a waste of time.

Oh well, off we go to Tupelo and the birthplace of Elvis. we get there and find the museum closes in 20 minutes so we don’t get to see the inside of his house or the church he went to. What a bust. Both Helen and Elvis did not deliver and so we head to our hotel.

Some days it feels like we are a touring band. We just see the inside of the hotel rooms and the road between them. Unlike bands however, we don’t have the fun of doing a big show for anyone. One day melts into another and I can hardly remember which hotel we stayed in and when. The roads stretch out before us each morning and we need to head on to the next stop down the road. Some days this is exhilarating and somedays tedious. Today as we sit in our hotel room, the TV blaring depressing news from the Gaza Strip and Israel or the ridiculous news about the clown show in the US government as they try to vote in a speaker for the house,  I am tired and depressed and wonder if  this road trip is too long. I know I probably won’t feel like this in the morning. At least I hope I won’t.