Into the mountains

Fuquay-Varina to Boone, NC

Leaving the piedmont I took a long detour to NC route 901 through farm towns.  Coming upon Union Grove  I spied a classic general store and stopped.  Josh Cockerham bought the abandoned store in 2007 and revived it as an old-fashioned and new-gear retail outfit, supplying local funky hand-made pottery and household furnishings as well as Case hunting knives and other variety useful to the rural person.  The building was originally across the street as the town schoolhouse at the turn of the last century, then was relocated and reappropriated as a general store with additions to provide a porch and living quarters.

Josh confirmed that the "Cook Shack" I had passed across the road a few blocks was worth a stop - so I took Jewel Song over there to get a tea and see what was there.

The General Store, Union Grove, NC

Cook Shack restaurant and bluegrass jam sessions, Union Grove, NC

I met Pal sitting outside eating a bowl of corn flakes.  When I approached she scurried to finish it and open the door for me.  Inside was a treasure-trove of bluegrass memorabilia floor-to-ceiling, a small stage with mix-and-match chairs and microphones to the right and a small dinette of 6 orange & yellow formica booths to the left behind a red-cushioned pew.  Freckled and motherly, Pal fixed a tea for me and I started telling her about my trip.  Out of a dark corner a white-bearded fellow in a baseball cap and plaid shirt appeared and settled into a chair as if he lived there - her husband Miles.  He reminded me so much of an old friends' father who had died this year.  Miles went into the back while I was talking with Pal and came out with a small wood block with a cutout side and 3 tack nails pounded into the crevice.  "I finally got myself one of these, been wantin' one for years..." he says as he hands it to me to examine.  I look at him quizzically, as he expected so he could deliver the punch line: "how do you like my "tack" shelter?"

Cook Shack stage, Union Grove, NC

Cook Shack, Union Grove NC

Miles & his "tack" shelter

Pal, the proprietress

Music pew at Cook Shack

Jennings Merchants in Union Grove was closed, but this fellow was happy to show me around. 

I made my way to Boone, NC - one of the many places in the south and midwest named for the 19c pioneer.  The Appalachian Trail passes by here, and it's home to Appalachian State University, known as a top school for artists in the east.  Appalachian State always has conjured an image of artists working in rusticity in the steep woods of the Blue Ridge mountains, miles from civilization.  It could not have been more surprising - a modern, brick-laid campus of 16,000 in a thriving town of 32,000.  The blend of college-town, old settler families, and AT through-hikers gives it a hippie vibe on a pedigreed stage.  Steep green mountains surround on all sides and the town itself is multi-level and requires good legs to get around on foot.  Locavore food & sustainability sentiments have infiltrated Wataug County, and the farm-to-table movement is evident in the restaurant menus and markets.

US 421 heading towards Boone

Melanie's Food Fantasy.  Not great, but better than average. Don't get the biscuits.

Bald Guy Coffee. Boone, NC. Roast their own.

My campsite, Flintrock, was a last-minute find browsing from the parking lot of a church in Boone at 6:00pm.  It turned out to be one of the most comfortable I found on my trip. I took a cabin for the night and reveled in having a porch and peace & quiet among the campers around me.  A rushing creek runs through the middle of the grounds. The sound of traffic on the road is closer than one might want but the manager is friendly and helpful and the cabins are clean and comfortable, and there is a neighborhoodly feel to the size of it.

Cabin in Boone at Flintrock. 

Cabin 6 at Flintrock

Not some hillbilly cabin with a bunch of scruffy artists making their own tools.

Boone, NC. King Street.

I could have lingered for days here, exploring the town and the oldest mountains, trails, and rivers in the Appalachian range, but this was Monday, Dante's museum closed at 3:30 on Tuesday and did not re-open again until Thursday. It was a few hours away, and another hour to my campsite in Breaks, VA.  I stocked up on camp stuff and headed to the car...running behind as usual.  I had a parking ticket for overstaying the 2-hour limit.  Luckily, Boone has a system to deal with this quickly.  I walked into the closest store, ticket in hand and approached the cashiers.  Before I could even ask, they said "oh do you need us to validate that?"  "that would be great - where do I need to take it?"  "We take it for you."  Fantastic.

Passing through Tennessee on 91.

After the pickup trucks, I stopped at the top of the pass - VA rte 80. 

I headed to Breaks directly rather than arrive in Dante and have to drive mountain roads in the dark. I would have to call the museum phone number to see if I could get an appointment on their closed day.  The drive through the mountains took me through a corner of Tennessee into far southwest Virginia - the "tail".  It was slow-going, the steering wheel see-sawing back and forth on the looping switchbacks for the better part of 2 hours on VA 80. At one point, going about 35 up a winding hill, two pickup trucks shot past me, mufflers screaming.  The speed limit sign said 55, but Jewel Song's cargo was bouncing around in back already and her driver was trying to get used to the manual shifting options.

VA route 80 heading towards Breaks, VA

At Breaks Interstate Park, on the Virginia-Kentucky border, the young park ranger warbled about the distinction of being "interstate" ("only one of two in the whole country") and I barely recognized we were both speaking English.  The rain had been coming off and on all day but the sun came out for the evening.  I was at the end of an empty loop save for one other site with a couple and their child, a flat ridge with steep slopes on three sides, and plenty of mosquitos.  I lit the bug sticks and attempted for the 2nd time to set up the Kelty tailgate tent so I could sleep comfortably with Jewel Song's hatch open.  It was missing instructions, so after 20 minutes I decided not to waste the last light fussing with it and instead made dinner in the orange sun coming through the trees.  Then I covered Jewel Song with mosquito netting and rolled out the bed mat and slept, half listening for bears.

Breaks Interstate Park

Campsite at Breaks, VA

The Breaks - the Grand Canyon of the South.

The next morning, it began to rain while I was in the shower.  Early enough that most people were still asleep.  I had no phone reception and the campground did not have wi-fi.  I had asked the ranger about coffee places and he had pointed me to a place about 2 miles down 80 into Kentucky, Elkhorn City - a place called the Rusty Fork.  Who could resist?

Elkhorn City, Kentucky.

Breakfast special. 

The Rusty Fork, Elkhorn City KY

 It was more like 10 miles, going down slowly behind coal haulers and past the grave of the "Unknown Confederate Soldier", but the ground leveled out and an intersection with a traffic light appeared with a long wood building on one corner.  All around, the only vehicles besides the coal-haulers are pickup trucks. Not only did the Rusty Fork have coffee, there was a guy sitting at a table with a laptop.  "Do they have wi-fi?" I asked him.  "yep."  He smiled through a moustache. I took up a table by the curtained window with my laptop and watched the rain. The inside is painted red and decorated with depression-era kitchen pantry and bluegrass music stars photographs, including a signed one of Elvis.  The waitress was blond and tan in a pink shirt, cheerful disposition. Took my order and kept checking on my coffee as I spent 3 hours catching up on uploads and a blog entry.  I had called the museum contact numbers as soon as I had gotten phone reception, but had not received a call back.  I left the restaurant at 2:00 for the 90 minute drive through the mountains to Dante, hoping I would be able to find someone in the town to connect with.