April 25, day 27

April 25, day 27

My journey continued on Skyline Drive, which is merely the continuation of Blue Ridge Parkway; same road, different name. Where the road with two names comes together also marks the southern end of Shenandoah National Park, through which Skyline Drive passes. I did not stop to take any hikes for I had miles to make before I slept. The red bud trees are fully in bloom and give a beautiful contrast to the light green whenever seen.

After jumping off Skyline Drive, and exiting Shenandoah National Park, I picked up US 33 through Harrisonburg, Brandywine, Franklin, and Judy Gap into the mountains of West Virginia. Passing into Monongahela National Forest had a special meaning to me. Isn’t that one of the neatest names you have ever heard?

When I was young I read stories about the frontier with magical, musical place names such as Cumberland, Shenandoah, and Monongahela. Those words spoke to me of history, mystery, excitement and adventure, and they still do.

Hidden away in the mountains of West Virginia is the National Radio Astronomy Observatory at Green Bank. It is the largest moveable object in the world, so they say. The gigantic dish is 110 meters by 100 meters, with a 2.3 acre surface and almost 500 feet high. This giant electronic ear silently listens to deep space in an attempt to solve the mysteries of the universe.

The receivers are so sensitive they do not allow cell phones, or even digital cameras within two miles. The photo I took was just outside the exclusion zone, at the visitor center. They said it is slightly more sensitive than the Very Large Array, which I saw in New Mexico last year. It does not have the same resolution though as the VLA can go out to 13 miles from the center on each of three arms. Those who would like to learn more about the Green Bank Telescope can log onto their web site at: www.nrao.edu

We had some rain this afternoon, but it is gone for now.

Tonight I am camped in Pocahontas Campground, in Monongahela National Forest. It is a small campground and I have it entirely to myself. No other campers at all.

A couple of you have asked about gasoline so I will assume that more of you have an interest. The highest I have paid so far is $3.79. The higher amounts tend to be in the more remote locations, predictably. While MasterCard will want a lien on my house by the time I return, I see this as a bargain. I think by this time next year we will be delighted to pay only $3.79 a gallon. In fact, we will be so horrified by the price of gasoline in upcoming years that these prices will seem laughingly cheap. Drive now, take those driving vacations, it will never be as much a bargain as it is now.

There are no uninteresting things, only uninterested people. J.K. Chesterton

April 24, day 26

By 8 am I was driving north on the Blue Ridge Parkway. I had hopes of making the end of the Parkway by about mid afternoon, figuring on the 45 mph maximum speed limit. What I forgot to factor in was the “wow” factor. It seemed like every mile or two there was a pull-off, each with a more spectacular view than the previous. I think the best way to describe the experience of driving this road is simple joy. It would probably be even more fun with a sports car, preferably with the top down. I finally had to stop pulling off if I was to have any hope of reaching the end of the Parkway before dark.

The Parkway runs along the crest of the Blue Ridge, and at times one can see down into the valleys on both sides of the ridge. The average elevation was about 3000 feet. At higher altitudes the trees were not as fully leafed out. Mountain laurel, red bud trees, and dogwood were very common along the entire route.

Almost by accident I found an area park located within the Parkway itself. It was called the Julian Price Memorial Park, and I almost drove on by. I am so glad I decided to turn in. As I got out of the car I was presented with a scene of such beauty it almost took my breath away. Before me was a small lake, perfectly calm, and surrounded by flowering trees. The only sound was the singing of songbirds. I found many, many opportunities for photos. I have attached a few for your enjoyment

I found a historic site called the Puckett Cabin. It was the home of “Aunt” Orelena Hawks Puckett during the latter of her 102 years. Born in 1837, she was a bride at 16. She was past age 50 when she began a long career of midwifery. She assisted in the births of more than 1000 babies, delivering the last in 1939, the year she died. It is said she never lost a child or mother through her own fault. Ironically, none of Mrs. Puckett’s own 24 children lived beyond infancy.

My home tonight is a Wal-Mart parking lot, having arrived too late at Shenandoah National Park.

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming, "WOO HOO, What a Ride!"