Third Time’s the Charm
The sky was blue and cloudless as the van filled with people and their rental bikes en route to Whitetop Mountain, but I was suspicious.
Though the morning held all the promise of a perfect October day, I’d grown wise to the ways of Appalachian weather and its tendency to produce a deluge at the most inopportune moments—especially where the Virginia Creeper Trail was concerned.
There was the time I was 13, and the five of us—mom, dad, two younger sisters, and me—attempted the trail for the first time. Mid-July could be swelteringly hot back home in Maryland, but the air was pleasantly cool atop 5,520-foot Whitetop Mountain. My bike whisked effortlessly along the downhill grade, wafts of sweet air drifted up from nearby creeks and streams, and an unsuspecting bliss overtook me.
Then—bam—the skies opened. Rain poured so thickly that soon I couldn’t see the trees, my family, or even the path ahead of me. I squeezed the brakes and wiped off the round glasses that would later lead me to deem all photos of myself from that era as “classified.” Vision restored, I discovered that I’d stopped just before pedaling off a steep bank into the high-running creek below.
We tried the trail again a few years later, when I was 16 or so. I guess I’m not much for learning from past experiences, because I foolishly chose to wear a white tank top that day. When yet another summer storm brought a deluge to the mountain, a skunk stripe of dirt kicked up from the bicycle wheel and sank into the drenched fabric. When we finally made it to the trailside café six miles outside of Damascus, we were so wet and filthy that we weren’t allowed inside. Instead, we sat on the porch and watched the skies rain themselves out. I never could get the stain out of my shirt.
So maybe it’s understandable that I had a hard time getting too excited about this third attempt on the Creeper Trail. Sure, I thought, the sky was blue now, but the fall had been a rainy one. I didn’t trust the sunshine to last.
Almost instantly, the trail began working to win me over. At the height of fall color, the yellow leaves of hickory, red of oaks, and medley of everything in between created a natural stained-glass ceiling over the gravel trail. Breaks in the canopy revealed glimpses of fields full of ripe pumpkins and carefully trimmed evergreens waiting for Christmas. The previous night’s rain still lingered in the woods, moisture mingled with the scent of fallen leaves lifting gradually into the air.
And the sky stayed blue.
It held even as we came to that little café near Damascus, this time arriving completely dry but for a light sweat. The place was somehow bigger than I’d remembered it, probably because there were so many more people there this time—waiting in line, eating at booths in the cramped interior, or soaking in sunshine and sustenance at one of the many outdoor picnic tables.
As I sat outside—this time by choice—sipping a milkshake and enjoying a few minutes off the bicycle seat, I reflected that maybe it’s true what they say, that the third time is the charm.
Either way, I’ve learned my lesson. No more white shirts while biking in the mountains.
About the author: Waynesville reporter Holly Kays is a forester’s daughter who is happy to live in the land of many trees.
Pedal Power
The 34-mile Virginia Creeper Trail stretches from Abingdon, Virginia, to Whitetop Mountain along a route formerly occupied by train tracks. Arguably the crown jewel of the region’s bike paths, the Virginia Creeper is far from the only place to settle in for a rewarding ride on two wheels.
Knoxville’s greenway system includes an extensive inventory of trails. The current mile count is 85, with bikes allowed everywhere but a few short loop trails. knoxvilletn.gov.
The Erwin Linear Trail is a four-mile paved path that follows North Indian Creek and the Nolichucky River through the Tennessee mountain town of Erwin. It’s a great place to bike, cast a line, or just take a walk. erwintn.org.
The Thermal Belt Rail Trail in Rutherford County, North Carolina, stretches for eight miles from Spindale to Gilkey. The first 1.8 miles are paved, and then the path turns to crushed gravel. This nearly flat trail passes through residential neighborhoods and rolling farmland, providing distant views of South Mountains State Park. rutherfordoutdoor.org.