I’m writing this from the Northern end of the Blue Ridge Parkway(BRP)/Skyline Drive but before I begin I would like to share a few thoughts about trains. They have trains here that are so long that a single one has more wagons to it than the whole of the British rolling-stock combined. They wouldn’t be able to operate in England without using Scotland as a shunting yard (or vice versa in case you are Scottish and are a bit sensitive). The thing is that these American trains hoot – all the time, at night. The noise isn’t just a mildly annoying Brit NEE-NAH, it’s more like the Queen Mary in fog.  They don’t appear to do it during the day, or I’ve not heard them at it. As far as I can see, one train that is 30-odd miles long keeps hooting at a perceived danger point until the whole thing is past. By that time the front, which controls the hooter, has arrived at another DP. As no one lives far from a railway line, this means that the whole country is kept awake by hooting trains when they should be sleeping. Surely, productivity must suffer?  The whole issue could be solved by installing proper level crossings; barriers come down, people stop, problem solved without a hoot being heard. We are not that far from Washington so I may call in and enlighten them. I could be told to bugger off and mind my own business, which would be fair enough. I have a suspicion that they (our cousins) find the noise “evocative-of-a-bye-gone-era”.

Another, shorter, observation is that over here, unlike in England, Harley Davidsons are not regarded as a gay icon. In fact loads of people ride them. They are mostly old and fat men with moustaches. I think they are retired estate agents and, although they try their best with leather, studs, tassels and silly helmets etc, they absolutely fail to look like Hells Angels or young tearaways.

Slightly more normal bikers

I had the vague idea that the Blue Ridge Parkway was built by the Corps of Commissionaires as I hadn’t really understood what a helpful and friendly, but rather broad accented, cousin was explaining. There comes a time when it’s better to just nod and say “yes how interesting” rather than keep asking them to repeat themselves. A useful information sign eventually cleared things up and informed us that the BRP was built by the CCC – Civilian Conservation Corps, partly as a means of employing some of those worst affected in the Great Depression. Hundreds of schemes such as building reservoirs, parks, roads and trails mean that America is fortunate to have many brilliant National and State parks and other “recreational facilities”, as they are now known. The BRP is just one but it gives an idea of the scale of the project. It is a 469 mile long road running down the most spectacular section of the Appalachian Mountains – just to give Americans a chance to be in one of their prettiest bits East of the Mississippi. It is wonderful, and I urge anyone travelling in the Southeast to use it. It is free, no commercial vehicles can use it and it is safe. The down-side is that during peak seasons it can get busy. When the trees change in autumn, and the leaf-peepers come out, it may be best avoided. In April it is empty. Several of the campsites were still closed when we went North but those that were open were practically deserted.

we say sausage

We occasionally ventured away to find even more remote areas of National Forests so that we could camp for free – “wild camping” we might call it; the National Forest rangers call it “dispersed camping” and seem too happy to advise where the nicest and quietest bits  are. In fact, these rangers were all most helpful, particularly the Law Enforcement branch. One pulled up alongside us in a lay-bye and advised us to ignore the road closed signs and go on through what he thought was the prettiest section until the road was actually blocked. He then gave us a route around. He was armed with a huge pistol and a tazer. “People don’t seem to mind being shot but they sure are scared of electrocution”. His name was Ranger Haines and he was enormous and is now known as Tazer Haines (by us). I think he may be related to Dennis. We were later to meet an equally good guy called “Hopeful” Smith as he had only just got his tazer and seemed to be itching to use it. He gave us his number and said to give him a call if we saw anything untoward and he would be right down to zap it. Now that’s my kind of ranger.

On one of our detours we drove for miles and miles along bumpy stone tracks hoping to find  a nice spot to stay for a couple of nights and discovered that everyone for 50 miles was called Hicks. I suspect they may have all been related judging by the look of them; we didn’t stay. We went through a couple of small towns, Banner Elk and Valle Crucis, described in the book as achingly beautiful – huh, the authors have obviously never visited the Cotswolds. They were both a bit moderate. Mind you, they may have looked significantly better under several meters of snow – I think they may have been skiing resorts. I think the guidebook translation of “awesome” into English is “quite pretty”. I was hoping for a picturesque and romantic dinner in a recommended restaurant in Valle Crucis but it was shut and we couldn’t find anywhere to stay so we had an almost as good a time in Wal-Mart’s car park in Boone. This place is of Daniel Boone fame and one often sees other reminders of childhood songs and films: Dula – where a chap called Tom killed his bird as in “Hang down your head Tom Dooley” by the famous Kingston Trio, Cumberland Gap (15 miles? – Lonnie Donnagan?) and What did Della-wear? Etc etc.

raining hard

 Along the whole mountain chain runs the Appalachian Trail; some 2,184 miles from Springer Mountain in Georgia to Mount Katahdin in Maine. We walked it in one afternoon – well, a bit of it, 5 miles. Some hardy souls walk the whole way and I think that their feat (and feet probably) could correctly be described as awesome. We met a chap, who was doing it and had covered 800 miles heading North so far, at an average of 16 miles a day. He had been joined by his sister for a long weekend and we had a chat. Pleasingly, they looked mightily impressed for a split second when we told them we had just walked down from Maine but I think binos as my only equipment gave the game away. He, like many here (god knows how I will cope with the Spanish to the South), had a broad accent and when he said his name was Salty I replied “what, like salty bacon?” “well, sort of but without the bacon - Soltie”. This caused the Navigator to do a nose trick and to try to kick my shins. An absolute mystery sometimes. She later told me they were Jewish and not great on bacon. How was I to know? (Even if his sister was called Rebecca).

A very strange people these Americans

 Before leaving the BRP and starting  the SLD (Sky-line Drive) we visited Monticello near Charlottesville. This is a very popular spot which was the home to Thomas Jefferson who was and is a frightfully important man in American history. I’m not going to go into all that he achieved here, look him up, but he wanted to be remembered for three achievements: he drafted the Declaration of Independence, he founded the University of Virginia and he was responsible for the Statute of Religious Freedom for Virginia. He did lots of other things too (such as owning over 600 slaves) and was an all-round good-egg. We (Brits) almost certainly thought of him as an ungrateful terrorist. He built his surprisingly small mansion on top of a steep hill and therefore suffered from an acute water shortage for most of the year. No wonder he kept a close eye on the weather. Anyhow, if one can go when the crowds aren’t too bad it’s a good day out.

Monticello - nice but surprisingly small

(like me?)

The Sky-line Drive had just been closed for the day due to snow! We had based our whole timetable so far on moving North with the warm weather but you know what they say about best laid plans etc. We did spend a cold night up on it and very nice  it was too but we needed warmth. So headed for lower  altitudes and off to Gettysburg for a view of the famous battlefield upon which the tide of the civil war turned in favour of the Union. Again, like so many tourist and historical places in America, it was very well done. There was an excellent introductory film and an exhibition of the famous cyclorama, painted by a frog only a few years after the battle. The self-guided tour was well laid-out and meant that one could go at one’s own speed and avoid the masses; there were a lot of people but in high season it must be hell.

Fantastic back-swing, the vicious, double-jointed brute.

Typical gunner - he's going to miss that house.

Between Gettysburg and Philadelphia we drove through Amish country. This was fascinating but on should stay clear of the main routes through. The  area has become a bit of a tourist trap offering such delights as Amish buggy rides and Amish home visit experiences. The do suffer a little more because of the masses stopping to take snaps of each other beside the quaint old-word village signs; of course we didn’t.

Amish shopping

why?

To make more room for these

The best name we have found so far belonged to a baker called Otis Spunkmeyer – fine breads and cream buns. It doesn’t feature in our photos as I was so excited that by the time I had stopped the truck and got the camera out, he had disappeared.

I'd say so

I ought to mention that we had, on the way north to Phili, passed through West Virginia and Maryland before hitting Pennsylvania but I must have blinked or nodded-off as I can’t recall noticing them. They are very narrow states in this area and are what one might expect if one allows a guy from Durham and a Corn to join up to decide the boundaries – Mason and Dixon (Line).

Independence Hall 

Philadelphia was our first taste of a high-rise city and it was very impressive. There are lots of huge sky-scrappers and also some wonderful of historical buildings. One of them houses the Liberty Bell but as it’s broken, we didn’t go to gawp, unlike long queues of normal tourists. Apparently it  cracked when rung for too long and too hard on Washington’s birthday once. Shoddy goods? It was cast in the Whitechapel foundry, they must have seen those yanks coming and thought here’s a chance to rip them off. The city also boasts some terrible roads. They are in a shocking state and probably contributed to our present Nissan problems – more of which next time when I will also introduce you to New York.

Wildlife tally so far:

2 deer with vultures (road kill)

10 or so white-tailed deer
20 racoons (road kill)
1 live racoon (wanted to get into our truck)
2 things that looked like waterbuck but couldn’t have been
2 Skunks (1 dead 1 alive) – they both smell
Loads of wild turkeys
2 beaver-like things
1 elk – I suspect it had been tethered to attract tourists
5 copper-head snakes (in a half hour. The rangers had said they weren’t active yet)
Chipmunks, squirrels etc.
Turtles
Red Efts (look them up)
Birds – too numerous and fantastic to mention
2 Jewish people

We have just bought Peterson’s Field guide to North American Birds which is a recommended, easy-to-use book so we should get better at identifying and reporting them.  Also, we will see a bear – soon.