BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY

It was very hard to leave our cozy cabin and the beautiful Great Smoky Mountains.  We cleaned up, packed up and headed out.  I was feeling sad about leaving this wonderful area and roamed my eyes over the green maple trees, the gray-blue hemlocks, the rhododendrons, the hazy mountains, and white blossoms of the dogwoods as we drove across the park one more time.  Goodbye Tennessee, I sadly thought, I hope I can come back someday.

As we made our way over the mountain summit and down past the visitor center and entry gate we saw a sign, “Blue Ridge Parkway”.  I checked the map and saw that this highway follows the mountain ridge all the way to Pennsylvania.  “Let’s take that road!” I said to Don, and off we went.

Well, what can I say about the Blue Ridge Parkway.  I can’t find enough words or descriptive enough words to tell you about it, so you just have to look at the photographs because no words can describe the beauty.

This is a wonderful road for sight seeing.  The speed limit is 35 and there is no pressure to rush along and miss something.  There are only a few intersections with crossing highways, so you can just amble along enjoying nature.  There are pullouts with fabulous views about every 200 feet with lots of opportunities to stop and catch your breath as you savor yet another huge vista.

We meandered along the gently curving road, enjoying the wildflowers--yellow buttercups, lavender columbine, pink Lady’s Slipper, and bluebells.  The dogwoods, white blossoms looking like a vanilla ice cream cone, were blooming.  Huge pink rhododendrons were just starting to bloom and sometimes we could spot an orange or pink azalea.

In the evening when we would have to leave the parkway and go into a town for bed and dinner we would experience a culture shock.  A car coming toward us! A traffic light! A billboard!  Yikes!  We weren’t used to this.  Every day for 5 days we would get in the car, pop in our strummin’ and pickin’ cd of bluegrass classics—Sweet Home Alabama, Cinnamon Girl, Orange Blossom Special, Nine Pound Hammer--and joyously return to the Blue Ridge Parkway, serene and beautiful every minute of every day.