Sunrise in the Smokey mountains is beautiful and the Appalachian Inn where we stayed is pretty much in the middle of it. Marina booked all the hotels and picked it as it looked nice. I agreed as it’s 20 minutes ride from the Tail of the Dragon. I can honestly say, we were both impressed. After a late evening ride both up and back the 129, we discovered eating out nearby is less impressive and sadly for me, the county is also dry. I’d wanted a beer but settled for Raspberry iced tea. I guess packing the hip-flask with Tequila was a good idea and we both had a shot as we settled into the two-person jacuzzi back at the hotel.

Waking this morning, we were greeted to the sight of the mist clinging to the hillsides outside our window (above). Coffee on the verandah was a perfect start to the day, as was the eggs and sausage breakfast. We needed it too. Today was another longish day – from the North of North Carolina to Versailles, Kentucky, the entire height of Tennessee and more. First up was a final hit on the Dragon. The hotel is on the Cherahola parkway so we headed back down to the 28 and turned North. As we got close to the 129 though, we were stopped. The flagman at the bridge roadworks was not letting anyone past, cones across the road. As we pulled up, he was talking to us and we nodded, smiling politely in return. Eventually, Marina managed to unplug my headset, stopping the Art Brut playing in my helmet: “There’s been a fatal accident up ahead and the road is closed. You’ll have to turn back”. I now felt bad for my idiotic nodding and grinning as I’d completely failed to hear him. There was no word on what the accident was and I felt I’d lost any right to ask, so after a u-turn, we headed back down the 28 and back to the 143 westward to Robbinsville.

Now, tragic reason aside, if you ever have to detour, hope this is one you have to take. As with everything around the Smokies, the scenery is beautiful and the ride is both fast and smooth with few other vehicles (at least during the week). After a few miles you hit the 129 and it all tightens up: the corners, the treeline and the corners of your mouth, I mean. Today, I felt much more attuned to the road and very clearly, so did she on the back. Marina, scared at the start of the week by the prospect of so many turns now managed to video the whole trip up the Dragon, for the most part not even holding onto the bike. Next time, I fully expect her to be riding her own bike and when I get somewhere with a decent connection, I’ll post the video. If any of you watch it, first let me apologize for riding so slowly. I was carrying a pillion. And full luggage. And the sun was in my eyes. And, and, and. OK. it’s excuses but I did manage to grind the hero blobs on my footpegs on a couple of turns, even if the knees were far from down.

I guess we should have stopped at the end of the dragon for a farewell. Alas, it was pretty packed and I rather fancy it’s see you later rather than goodbye as I will be back. As it was, we continued North on the 129 until it ran out, and then it was onto the I-140 and (after a short detour) US27 North. The 27 certainly has it’s moments. There were stretches that twisted and turned, but for the most part it both levelled and straightened out.

Lunch proved a problem. After we’d passed Oak Ridges and started to get hungry, the restaurants seemed to run out. Stopping at a local “home-cookin” diner we found that home cooking means frozen hamburgers in Tennessee, or at least in one town. Mind you, it was worth seeing the Gold wing in the parking lot that didn’t just have a drinks holder but a 32oz big gulp on the dashboard.

After 30 more minutes of both us and the bike running on empty, we finally stopped at a Hardees in Watrburg. I can’t say there is a lot to recommend it, but at least we filled up. Meanwhile, the Autocom was eating through the cheap batteries we’d bought and changed a third. I guess $0.99 for Panasonic PP3’s is a false economy but putting the device and iPod in the back-pocket of my jacket meant Marina could at least take care of matters on the move.

Sore-ass set in around 4pm, so we stopped for coffee in Somerset. A welcome red-eye was on the menu as was the Streussel muffin. Whilst eating it, Marina gently pointed out that when I get back home, I’m back off to the gym. Road trips are fun, but they sure have a way of piling on the pounds. Back on the road, we powered through, eventually hitting the back-roads around Versailles. The countryside at once transformed into beautiful rolling pastoral scenes populated almost entirely by well-manicured horses and lots of fences. The roads weren’t spectacular given what I’ve seen today but any other day of the week, I can see there is fun to be had here and I will be back.

It’s now 2967km since leaving Toronto, approximately 560 of which were done today and I’ve all but lost touch with the world in the process. Tomorrow will be my last real day on the trip and I’m somewhat sad. If it wasn’t for my two kids back home, I think I’d turn for points West and hit the Rockies but alas I am out of time. This week, nothing else has mattered except the road ahead and maybe what to have for dinner. Talking of which, there’s a restaurant around the corner that offers 60 bourbons on the menu to sample and I have a date with them.

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