[Jeff in Kentucky]

I was one of the people on this trip, from a longer article by a guy I sometimes ride with:

The Wild Hogs in this story are a loosely knit group of motorcyclists formed in the Fall of 2007 for a motorcycle trip to the Great Smoky Mountains. The movie by the same name was released in March 2007 and the group adopted the name. On our first trip everyone knew someone, but nobody knew everybody.

It was quite an eclectic group, four sport bikes, two cruisers and three
touring bikes. By the end of the first trip we had formed a bond cemented by a passion for motorcycles. The Smoky Mountains Ride has become an annual pilgrimage of sorts. The members vary from one trip to the next, but the group is held together by a core of riders from the first trip.

This is my story from our adventure in September 2009.

Most of the best rides I’ve been on include purposeful routes
designed to include good food and we intended for this to be no exception. Sizzlin Sweet and Smokin in just the right combination brings out the best in a Sonny’s Bar B Q plate. Just as they delivered lunch to our table, I called Rob again to check on the rest of the group. They were still trying to round up two riders in the Richmond-Berea area and were preparing to have a McD’s burger.

When we left home, the skies were a gray shade of ominous overcast and the roads were damp. The rain had stopped earlier in the morning. The weather forecast for Saturday was equally cheery with Sunday predicted as the best weather day for the weekend trip. We decided to travel with the rainsuits in the trunk and hope for better skies. We found a couple of showers between Corbin and Knoxville, brief moderate rain, but still no rainsuits needed. As we topped the last hill headed into Knoxville, the clouds dried up and we were treated to mostly blue skies and bright sun. By the time we made it to the south side of Knoxville the temperatures had warmed up and turned a cool, damp, grey day into a wonderful sunny fall motorcycle ride.

We had planned to take HWY 321 out of Marysville through Townsend and into Pigeon
Forge. During our rest and fuel stop we decided to take advantage of the sunny afternoon and continue to HWY 129. We found room in the trunk for our sweatshirts and heavy gloves. This was turning into a nice ride.

We rode The Dragon and stayed to the left at the fork in the road at Deal’s Gap to take
HWY 28-Fontana Road. Fontana Road, but for all the hype, is every bit the motorcycle
ride as The Dragon. Some sections are more challenging and this route deserves your
attention. The scenery is beautiful.

By now it’s time for fuel and a break. HWY 441 takes you into Cherokee and eventually
on through the park to Gatlinburg. I called Rob from Cherokee and the rest of the group had made it to Pigeon Forge, checked in and were considering where to ride. We decided we’d meet at Clingman’s Dome.

Good fortune was still smiling on us and we manage to make it up the mountain without a slow mover in the way. The bike set it’s own pace in tune with the rhythm of the road and worked through the corners without dragging floorboards, but not by much. As we travelled further and higher the air became cooler, not only cooler, but noticeably damp. We noticed a sprinkle as we turned off of HWY 441 onto Clingman’s Dome Road.

Clingman’s Dome Road is a beautiful seven mile run from HWY 441 out to the parking
lot for Clingman’s Dome. It too has a rhythm all its own and if your lucky enough not to get behind a rolling roadblock it can be quite exhilarating, but a slow pace allows you to enjoy the scenery and occasional vista. The sprinkle has changed to a light rain and we are anxious to get to the parking lot to get our rainsuits out of the trunk. By the time we reach the halfway mark, the rain has turned into a thunderstorm with wind, heavy rain and lightning. The next chance for a pull off and we frantically scramble for rainsuits. It’s a full blown downpour, but the lightening doesn’t seem to be nearly as important as getting our rainsuits on.

A half mile or so down the road we meet the Wild Hogs and
wave the hearty left handed wave that only
soaked cyclists can wave. Rounding a corner I
see a couple of cars stopped in the road ahead. I
didn’t think it was raining hard enough for them
to be stopped in the road and soon I could see
what had their attention, a black bear. The cars
eventually eased past the bear. A thick, fresh
growth of grass at the edge of the road had
attracted this bear’s attention. I forgot all about
the rain and lightning, realizing I could hear this
bear ripping up great mouthfuls of grass at a
distance too close for my comfort. Omnivorous,
aren’t black bears omnivorous, but they prefer
vegetarian? I prefer they prefer vegetarian.
There, it has eased back into the woods. We
can fire up the bike and get moving. No wait,
the bear is charging the edge of the road again
only to rip out another mouthful of grass. The
scene repeated several times before we made it
past this stretch of road. Black bears, at least
this one, do not posses any understanding of
the proper etiquette for allowing motorcycles to
pass unimpeded when it’s raining and lightning.

HWY 441 down the mountain into Gatlinburg. We checked in, changed clothes and
headed just down the street to Ogle’s Brick Oven for a pizza. And was it ever good. This day’s adventure just made it better.

DAY TWO was everything the weatherman had predicted and more. We were
fortunate to have a nice place to stay. The
reports on the TV brought news of landslides
in Gatlinburg, campground evacuations in the
park, flashfloods, the creek at the footbridge
to Ripley’s Aquarium rising 8 feet in 30
minutes and a helicopter rescue of kayakers
on the French Broad River in Pigeon Forge.
The French Broad River in Pigeon Forge
usually looks wadeable to me. Thank
goodness for pizza delivery!

On Sunday we were up and
checked out in time to meet the
group at the visitor’s center by
8:30. After a short discussion we
decided to travel through the park
to Cherokee. We took the Great
Smoky Mountains Expressway
over to HWY 28 and followed it to
the Deal’s Gap Motorcycle Resort
at the east end of The Dragon.
One feature of the Deal’s Gap
Motorcycle Resort is the Dragon’s
Den Pub & Grill. I usually opt for a cheese burger, fries and drink. The Dragon’s Den makes for a good lunch or supper break. Service stops around 7 p.m. Friday through Sunday and around 6 p.m. on Monday through Thursday.

Riding the Dragon is a personal experience and different for every rider. Local businesses do an excellent job of promoting HWY 129, but there are any number of good rides to be found in and around the Smoky
Mountains. We rode from east to
west and stopped at the Dragon
Overlook about 2.5 miles short of
the end of the Dragon. Rob,
Gayleen, Diane and I said our
goodbyes to the group. They
continued on and headed for home.
We backtracked to Deal’s Gap and
followed HWY 129 toward
Robbinsville and the Cherohala
Skyway.

By the time we made it to Tellico Plains it was getting really late in the afternoon. We
headed north from here to Knoxville and picked up I-75 to head home. By the time we’d made it to Frankfort we had about a 500 mile day. More importantly we’d spent more than a dozen hours in the saddle and my backside was tired, but the memories of our weekend were still fresh in my head. After all, the purpose of these trips is collecting new memories, spending time with old friends, making new friends and experiencing the world in a way that only a motorcyclist can.

by Bill Y.

[Author]

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