BLOW THESE OFF

Not everything is wondrous.  Some features range from “huh?” to outright ripoff.  North Carolina has its share.  The Blue Ridge Parkway is a beautifully serene drive, relaxing, and, well, a little boring.  It’s about 400 miles of 45mph, 1930’s-era, single lane, winding, rolling, drive through a tunnel of trees.  Boy is it green!  But just how much forest tunnel can you take?  It is punctuated by pullouts where you once had views of the mountains and valleys.  Most of these today are overgrown with trees that block all view, and are essentially useless except for potty or snack breaks, or pulling over to let pass that long line of cars behind you that pay no attention to speed limits or the travails of the RV driver whose vehicle is as wide as the lane.  Beware yee who are seduced by signs that promise a trail to, say, a pond overlook.  Yeah, a pond.  An overlook.  You start out jaunty, then wonder where the heck you’re going.  Then you find the “pond” is a decades-old memory only, the only thing you’re overlooking are your stubbed toes, and all you’ve gotten for your trouble are insect bites and possible poison oak kisses.  It sucks.

Ok, nature evolves, lazy administrators don’t keep things up.  I get it.  But then there are the out-and-out charlatans.  The guidebooks shamelessly tout the wonders of “Blowing Rock.”  Drenched with Indian legend, scenic beauty, and a one-of-a-kind freak wind effect.  We (foolishly, I admit) thought this was some state or national monument.   Wrong.  It’s a private commercial enterprise.  Ding Ding.  The warning is there.  Nonetheless, lured by lurid billboards, we pulled into the lot, viewed the official-looking plaque (until

you read the fine print), entered the gift-shop-cum-ticket-counter and actually paid our $10 bucks each for the privilege.  Whattya get?  First, the same view you can get from almost anywhere the trees part on the Parkway, and     this      rock

 

Thanks to my peerless composition, that looks like it’s pretty dramatic.  Here it is from the other side.

  

Sorry folks.  I’ve stood on the “Diving Board” atop Half Dome in Yosemite.  This thing just doesn’t cut it.  I suppose if you threw a tissue over it might waft back skyward.  The legend is that an Indian brave, pulling an avian Romeo stunt, threw himself over only to be saved by the buoyant wind.  Rot.  Severely depressed, we repaired to the pretty town of Blowing Rock

 

where we licked our wounds.  Yes, the quest for the

perfect cone continues.  Some people take wine tours (been there), others seek out brewpubs (done that), but the stalwarts go for the butterfat.

Now, just so you don’t write me off as a travel curmudgeon, let me say that the Blue Ridge Mountains are indeed beautiful, and there have been a number of drop dead vistas, like this one.  Do come!