It's not news to anyone who follows my meanderings that I change course unexpectedly. Just as I hadn't planned to go through Asheville, I also had no plans to go into the No. Carolina mountains, especially with threats of snow. It made sense to catch the Interstate and zoom east, then north into Virginia. Why then, about fifty miles east of Asheville, did I suddenly take an offramp and head north? I have no idea :) This is just what I do sometimes :) The best I can put it together in retrospect, I ended up on Rte. 18, then Rte. 321, arriving late afternoon in the mountain hamlet of Blowing Rock. This is a town I've long wanted to visit, maybe because of its unusual name or maybe because of cabins in that area that I've had bookmarked for awhile. In any case, this is where I landed, amidst snow banks and chilled air, with the sun minutes from dropping below the horizon.
Now, I have to say right off that it's not easy coming from The Grove Park Inn and trying not to compare the two. But I tried to look at it objectively and it was really fine. My room was decorated in a Victorian theme and had all the desired amenities. Cleanliness is probably my biggest issue in general with accommodations. This place was fine, though I think the off-season lack of customers had a slight effect. (Cleaning crews are not going to go into rooms daily without customers). I had free local Internet access through nearby Boone, which was a nice surprise. And being on the top floor (corner room) of a historic building was pretty cool, since the winds kicked up quite a howling that night. Though practically deserted when I was there, The Green Park Inn held a feeling of history, with many pictures displayed of times gone by. This hotel was the site of many lavish galas in the late 1800's and early to mid 1900's. Calvin Coolidge, Franklin Roosevelt and J.D. Rockefeller are just a few of the guests who brought entourages with them to enjoy the mountain air. Breakfast was served in the former ballroom, where many of these events took place. Business meetings and banquets are still held there. I see from my notes that Annie Oakley was also a guest here, as was Elizabeth Dole, more recently - last year.
I was told the legend behind this rock by several different locals and each one offered a different story ;) But the brochure I picked up (you know how I collect those...) says that a Chickasaw chieftan brought his daughter to The Blowing Rock to protect her from the white man's admiration. One day, while daydreaming on the rock, she shot an arrow playfully at a young Cherokee brave below, which started a flirtation and courtship. At some point a reddening of the sky brought the two of them to the rock. He felt this was a sign that he needed to return to his tribe. She pleaded with him to stay and, torn by conflict, he jumped from the rock. Grief-stricken, she remained on the rock, praying daily to the Great Spirit for her lover's return until, one evening, a gust of wind blew him back onto the rock. Since then (so the legend goes) the wind has blown up from below. This became the explanation for The Blowing Rock's mysterious wind, noted in a Ripley's Believe-It-Or-Not cartoon which calls this "the only place in the world where snow falls upside down".
The next morning I knew I had to make some tracks, though I still had one more day before I needed to reach Philadelphia (based on weather reports and personal schedule). Though several people informed me the Blue Ridge Parkway was open, it was closed three miles down the road. I did the three miles anyway, though, looking for photo opportunities. I backtracked from the barricade on the parkway and passed through Boone, where I browsed a few shops, including the Mast General Store, founded in 1883 (barrels of candy, old-fashioned items). And then I headed for Virginia, via Rtes. 221 and 16 - a breathtakingly beautiful drive.
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I didn't have to look hard for lodging. It was midweek, off-season and, aside from those establishments which were closed altogether, there were plenty of vacancies. In this case, The Green Park Inn found me before I even entered the town. This Victorian structure, which dates back to 1882, was waiting on the right side of the road. I stopped in, looked at a few rooms and chose one on the top (third) floor.
I drove around the Main St. section of the town, but didn't get a chance to explore any shops. This may have been timing (arriving late afternoon, leaving the following morning) or due to off-season hours. I also didn't get out to the namesake "Blowing Rock" itself, a cliff that hangs 4,000 feet above sea level and 3,000 feet above Johns River Gorge, located slightly out of town.
Well, I never saw The Blowing Rock, but I did see The Woodland's Barbeque & Pickin' Parlor, where I had a BBQ plate of chopped pork, baked beans, hush puppies, cole slaw and jalapeno cornbread. You know, the low-cal special ;) The place was almost empty, but I still caught the tail end of a banjo/guitar duo, which was fun. I packed up most of the meal into a to-go box and saved it for the next day.