Eking Out a Week For This Road
From The Grand American Road Trip in Birmingham, United States on Apr 28 '07
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I started to drive the Parkway thinking that the sheer beauty and diminshed speed limit would require me to allot at least five days. This actually took work- and I was unsuccessful, I barely made the stretch in four. The work, I must confess, was some of the best eking I have ever done- and as most of my previous years were spent either in school or in the retail business, eking does not come naturally. However, somehow I strategized, and learned that the number one priority for making the drive last was actually spending as little time driving as possible. Oh my life is so hard.
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My days on the road were spent as thus: waking up to stretch and cuddle with myself in my mummy bag, reach for my book, and read until I felt lazy. Then I would pick up my camp while munching on a granola bar, and find somewhere to hike. This was another hump in the plan to make the Parkway last, because the attraction is merely the road, and trails are afterthoughts. I often found at least a few short hikes up small rises or into a strange and muggy forest, but these were often unmarked on the road- a small sign on the bounds of a parking area would point toward a trail, and thus I was able to delay progress further by pulling into every one to check for the markers.
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I spent about three hours during the morning and afternoon driving, and whenever I found a pretty spot to hop out and lay on a blanket in the sun to read my book and munch on nuts and dried fruit (my diet during this leg of the adventure), that would take another few hours of my time. Dinner was either more nuts and dried fruit, or spaghetti, and I either camped or found a family-run motel in a neighboring town when the campgrounds were closed.
Virginia was especially pretty, and nothing against North Carolina, but the former was merely greener and warmer.
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I had a delightful experience in Blowing Rock, I believe, one perfect afternoon. After camping out, the weather was just warm enough for short sleeves but not enough to break a sweat, so missing out on a shower wasn't a bother. My bag o' food was down to ration weight (I was eating only dried fruit and nuts at this point), and I was hoping to find more nonperishables while exploring the town.
The downtown had that easy quality of southern small towns. Outside a homemade ice cream shop, a handful of customers mingled, enjoying their licks. A village mall was just off the city hall lawn, and the cluster of shops appeared to be the fruition of locals' dreams: "everything but the kitchen sink," and oh but lucky me "homemade granola." This little shop was run by a gentleman who must love granola. He had all sorts of dried fruit and nuts combinations, even barrels full of those small pretzels that are full of peanut butter. I love those. We got to talking, and his goals must all be met, as he was happy to make hikers' food and talk about his daughter, who was studying at MIT. I picked up a huge bag that lasted me all the way to New England, and thanked him for the conversation. He must get a lot of thru-hikers. How nice it must be, to live in a town with the most commotion on a spring afternoon in front of the ice cream shop, and work at a neat store that introduces you to all walks of life heading through the parkway. Must be nice.
And off again I was, there was some seriously stalling to be done to keep my mileage down.
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