Parkway primer
Eons ago, give or take 100 million years, huge plates in the Earth's crust crashed violently into one another. These igneous and metamorphic slabs piled up like hotcakes on a platter, forming the highest mountains on Earth -- what we know today as the Appalachians.
Wind, rain, ice and snow slowly wore those suckers down. Today, the rocky spine known as Virginia's Blue Ridge Mountains barely top 5,000 feet in a few places, and most of them are much shorter.
The Blue Ridge Parkway snakes hundreds of miles along that spine. Begun as a Civilian Conservation Corps project in the depths of the Great Depression, the idea was to connect the Great Smokies and Shenandoah national parks. About 52 years later, in 1987, the National Park Service laid the final bit of asphalt (although much of the parkway already had been in use for decades). The result is 469 miles of smooth, two-lane mountain blacktop edged by grassy shoulders. No stop signs, no traffic lights.
For bicyclists, it's a glorious challenge. Mile for mile, the grades are among toughest of any road in country. But all that work is worth it. On clear days, the parkway uncoils as an unending series of dazzling 60-mile views, blooming mountain meadows, brilliant foliage brawny rock outcroppings and blue- gray peaks. On hazy days the views won't be nearly so spectacular -- but visitors will understand almost immediately why this easternmost line of Southern Appalachian peaks is called the Blue Ridge.
I didn't learn the Blue Ridge Parkway existed until I was on my first bike trip. It was the summer of 1976 and pal Don Harrison and I decided to celebrate our high school graduation by hopping on bikes and riding 120 exceedingly flat miles from Annapolis to Ocean City, Md.
That was BikeCentennial summer, which prompted the first trickle of cross-country bike riders. In Rehobeth Beach, Del., we met a teacher named David from Dubuque, Iowa. With a few deviations, he'd ridden West-to-East on the BikeCentennial route and had just finished his ride. He told us his adventure was wonderful -- "until I hit the Blue Ridge Parkway."
What David went on to describe was sheer hell -- roads that went pretty much straight up mountains, with grades that were twice as steep as the toughest Rocky Mountain passes. Heading north along its 469 miles, David had climbed more than 150 miles (and descended about 140).
I vowed then and there that should I ever ride cross country, I would steer as far away from the parkway as possible. And that's what I did, in 1983, when I and two other guys charted our own cross-continental route of the U.S. and Canada.
It wasn't until I moved to Roanoke, Va., in 1994 that I saw the parkway for myself and realized what I had missed. Suddenly, I understood why 22 million people visited sections of the parkway in 2001 (tops of all the national parks) and why it has recorded 700 million visits since the first section opened in 1941
True, the steep climbs took me years to get used to -- especially after I replaced my touring bike (it had a triple crank) with a two-chaining racer that had a much smaller rear cluster.
And it was on the Blue Ridge Parkway that I totally bonked for the first and only time in more than 35 years of regular biking. Hitching a ride on that occasion was the most humbling experience I've ever had on two wheels, and there have been some doozies.
But the agony of the uphills is more than made up for by the parkway's many ecstasies. There is nowhere else in the U.S. where you can roll along almost 500 uninterrupted miles of breathtaking mountain scenery, with nary a stoplight, stop sign, fast food joint, strip mall, convenience store or any of the other signs of "progress" in our society. The Blue Ridge Parkway is the only place.
The parkway has a multitude of overlooks that tower thousands of feet above lowlands. You can see 60 miles or farther on clear days. Although the parkway grazes many towns and cities, it stays far enough away from them that you barely realize they are there.
On clear nights, the Milky Way unfolds in uncountable masses of brilliant stars. In most places the mountains are overgrown with trees. Except in the autumn, when majestic foliage draws hundreds of thousands of motorists from around the country, traffic is light. And at higher elevations in North Carolina, where the parkway tops out at around 6,000 feet above sea level, you may experience the rare and heady chance of looking down upon lower-lying cloud banks.
I have yet to ride the parkway end-to-end, yet I have ridden enough of it in recent years to make some recommendations for folks planning that trip. That's the intention of this list of tips. I've also noted some good resources on the web where you can find parkway maps, travelogues and other neat stuff. Have fun, and remember: Keep your eyes up!
This is no ride for beginners
I don't mean to discourage you, but the parkway is probably the last place you should choose for your first (or second, or third) bicycle trip. Try your legs out on some flatter land first. Maryland's Eastern Shore, Massachusetts' Cape Cod (and Martha's Vineyard, and Nantucket), Michigan's Upper Peninsula, Eastern Montana's prairie, Iowa's Scioto River Valley, Pennsylvania's Lancaster County -- all of these are special, wonderful places to ride. Conquer some or all of them, learn the ins and outs of bike touring, and figure out if you're cut out for it. Plenty of people are not.
You need a triple crank
Even if you're a better-than-average cyclist, there are going to be places where your legs cry out for very low gears, especially when you're carrying camping or other gear. The Blue Ridge Parkway is one of these. Mile for mile, it has the steepest grades (7 to 10 percent) of any uninterrupted road in the country. You can get away with a double if you're doing a day ride, or if you're Lance Armstrong, or if a van hauls all your weighty gear. But if you're on an unsupported long trip, take some pity on your quads and hamstrings. Get a triple. You may not use it, but you won't have that option if there's not one on your bike.
Know what you're getting into
You may have ridden through the Cascades in Washington state or the Rockies in Colorado and figure you're cut out for a long ride through the Blue Ridge. And you may be right. But mountain roads in the east are older and tend to be steeper than mountain roads in the west.
There are places where the grades are about 10 percent. So if it's practical, visit the parkway for a weekend and do a day ride or two. If you can make it up Apple Orchard Mountain in Virginia (a 3,300-foot elevation gain over 13 miles southbound) or Waterrock Knob in North Carolina (a 2,500-foot vertical climb over 5 miles southbound) you can probably handle anything the parkway can dish out.
Figure out a way to carry plenty of water
Dan Casey | The Roanoke Times
This shot was taken from the Great Valley Overlook, elev. 2,493, the highest point on the Parkway between Roanoke and the Peaks of Otter.
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One of the drawbacks to a bike tour on the parkway is that lodges, campgrounds and other places to get water are few and far between. Towns off the parkway are often down long hills, and miles away, so pitstops for food and water can be inconvenient and time consuming. Keep this in mind as you plan your ride
I've carried as many as 100 ounces of water with me during parkway rides on hot summer days -- and used every drop. On other occasions I've driven out to overlooks in advance of the ride and hidden gallons jugs of water, so it would be there when I needed it. The same goes for food.
You need a Blue Ridge Parkway map
The National Park Service publishes a wonderful, full-color Blue Ridge Parkway map. You can order one for free from the National Park Service, 400 BBT Building, Asheville, NC, 28801. It's a beautifully drawn, vertical, accordion-folding chart that lists parkway highlights in Virginia and North Carolina, notes elevations, mile markers, visitors centers, campgrounds, restaurants, picnic areas and overlooks. One of these is essential to planning anything more than a day ride on the parkway.
Underestimate the distance you will travel each day
The unofficial end-to-end time record on riding the parkway is 33 hours and 14 minutes -- an average nonstop speed of just over 14 mph. The person who set it must have been superhuman. I've ridden cross-country and through every great mountain range in the lower 48, and it boggles my mind to think of riding the entire distance in less than a day and a half. It will boggle yours, too, when you get a chance to experience it for yourself.
There are going to be times when you'll need to stop for a nice long rest on mountain tops. At other times, you'll want to -- the view will be that extraordinary. And there are dozens of great places to visit: trails to hike, wildflowers to walk through and waterfalls to wet yourself under. So allow yourself some extra time
Around 50-60 miles a day is eminently doable on the parkway. That would take you 8 to 10 days. Here's a National Park Service Web site that may help you plan your trip.
You'll need some lights
You probably won't be riding at night, but there are 25 very dark tunnels on the parkway, of varying length. All but one of these in is North Carolina. The longest is Pine Mountain Tunnel, at mile marker 399.1. It's 1,434 feet long -- just under a quarter mile.
Stay current on parkway information
I recommend that you plan your parkway trip between April 1 and Oct. 31. Snow rarely falls anywhere along the Blue Ridge during those months, and the temps are generally warm enough for shorts. But sections of the road are often under repair, so it's always good to check with the National Park Service on that.