Saturday, with weekend chores completed we headed to the Blue Ridge Parkway for a drive. This is always a nice way to spend a little time together. We have our dogs with us which limits what we can do, but we enjoy bringing them along. The two-lane road winds and curves through forest and rock cliffs leading to turnouts with breathtaking views of miles of mountains and forest. Some wildflowers are still in bloom, their colors accenting the grass and brush changing color beside the roadway. The blue hue on the horizon is evidence of how the Blue Ridge Mountains name came to be. Often, long ribbons of clouds settle below the mountain tops creating a blanket of softness inviting those restless with travel or by their very nature to relax and be in the moment. The view, a snapshot today, is most fully appreciated when consumed as part of a filmstrip over time.

Leaves are everywhere, on the trees, on the ground and in the air. Fall, not needing permission, is advancing at an increasing pace as it ushers in the winter. It has been many years since I witnessed, so vividly the change of seasons. Leaves, following the unseen conductors wand directed by the wind, fill the air with a kaleidoscope of colors and pattens, beautiful to watch in their dance to the ground. Nature, sheds her summer dress as she prepares for the winters cold. The outer beauty giving way to the truck as the core must survive the seasonal change, the cold breath of the life force. Her internal focus as the pendulum swings back from the abundance of summer, a constant reminder of the dynamic flow of life.

This part of the parkway leads to the Cherokee exit and is not as traveled as the road going to the east and north. The few cars make it easy to enjoy the unfolding vision displayed in realtime on the windshield. Having no plan we drive pass a turnoff to the right. It is the road that leads up Balsam Mountain to Black Camp Gap and the Heintooga Ridge Road. A quick stop and discussion brings an agreement to backup and explore this road. It seems much like the road we were on with similar scenery and turnouts of different mountain views. It is a continuation of the tapestry woven by nature with a similar but constantly changing pattern. We round a curve and see a turnout to the right. Instead of a mountain view there is a grassy field and on it, a gang of elk. Some of the elk are resting while some graze, their pace uninterrupted by our arrival. The gang of about twenty, consist of a twelve point bull, around fifteen cows and a handful of calves. The calves are about seven months old. The scene looks like a painting.

There is another car in the turnout in it is a park ranger. I ask if I could get out to take some pictures and he said he would prefer that I did not. I respected this request. I took some pictures from the car but none capture the moment. The bull would wander around and sniff and nudge the cows. He seemed to want them to move on into the woods. Some rose and started the trek deeper into the Smokys while some remained at rest. He set out after the ones who were moving. We decided to travel down the road a little more.

Many of our trips, whether driving or hiking, are like this. We start off in a general direction, with a basic game plan and then get distracted. A path or road will appear and we start wondering where it leads. At times we will follow it to a dead-end. Other times after a distance we will put it on our ‘to do’ later list. And, sometimes it is more of a “Let’s go a couple more miles and see what happens,” type of venture. This ride was one of a couple more miles type.

A few more miles in we came upon a ranger station next to a campground. The same ranger is there that was watching the elk. We talk to him for a few minutes and find that the paved road ends a little farther and a gravel road begins. It is one-way for about ten miles or so and then connects to another gravel road which leads into Cherokee. We know the connecting road as we discovered it on one of our previous outings. He told us that it would take about two hours if we decided to take the twenty-eight mile route. We thanked him and went to use the public facilities.

The campground area was pretty with a nice public facility. It managed to combine a feel of way outback camping with modern necessities. There were spots for recreational vehicles as well as tent camping. There were a couple of very modern looking RV’s connected to spots along side the road with a tent canopy set up for socializing. One had three adult Golden Retrievers and the people seemed knowledgeable with their setup. But what seemed so out of place was the couple getting ready to set up a site across from the public facilities. They were an older couple, late sixties or older I would guess. They had a compact car that was packed full of stuff. They seemed a little unsure of what they were doing. The man backed the car into the site with the woman directing. I guess they were going to unload the car and set up camp. The man was wearing a baseball cap, flannel shirt and jeans but it was the woman who captured my attention. She had a fluffed-out hair style of someone headed out on a dinner date and was wearing dress slacks, but that was not the odd part. She had on a fur coat. The kind that is short-waisted, dark with light spots and really long hair. It was the kind you wear to the theater on a cold night in a city like New York. She looked as out-of-place in this mountain campsite as the elk would have looked in the center of a mall in Miami. Puzzling over this with no expectation of a resolution we headed for the end of the paved road.

When at the end of the road, we made a decision to go-for-it. I felt a small rise of trepidation as we entered the gravel road. It is not unusual for my brain to automatically examine all of the things that could possibly go wrong. Maybe this is a good thing, a form of planning or preparation. But I think it is of more of the neurotic kind of thinking as it stimulates a little fear and this fear is irrational as it is fueled by thoughts. My gloom thoughts were of mud and fallen trees. It was rainy and even the beginning of the road had a lot of mud. “What if we get six miles in and get stuck?” “What if we are half-way through and a tree has fallen, blocking the road?” My brain plays out various storylines around these two thoughts, all with not-so-happy endings. But, forward we go.

The road is awesome for we seeking adventure. It is narrow. It twist and turns. There is a steep drop-off on the left-hand side that really stands out on the particularly narrow stretches of the road. There is a lot of mud and muddy holes to drive through. It gets darker as we progress deeper into the mountainside. And the best part is the fog. We ran into a lot of patches on the parkway but it is even thicker here. It gives an eerie feeling, the kind one gets at a good scary movie. Along the way we see one turkey and a couple of squirrels. They scurry away as we drive close.

I can only imagine what it must be like to hike or travel this road on horseback. There has to have been many who have done this and I’m certain many who still do. It also highlights how safe and protected we feel inside our vehicle. This is kind of a paradox as being on horseback or on foot, the mud and fallen trees would present very little of a real problem. I’m certain my brain would come up with ‘concerns’ appropriate for those conditions though. It seems to have a never-ending supply of them on hand.

We continued on the road to the spot we had reached coming the other way a couple of week ago. This gravel road seemed very civilized compared to the one we were finishing. When we connect with it we pick up a stream running beside the road. The sight and sound is both comforting and relaxing. It is amazing the connections we find in the mountains.

We will arrive in Cherokee safe, sound and happy and just a little shy of the two hour time-mark.