Putting All Our Eggs In One Basket

A fresh start and a beautiful day! Who could ask for anything more? We fill our travel mugs with steaming hot coffee, load the car up and we once again head for the hills. This time it’s the Blue Ridge Parkway, scenic wonderland that promises a winding trail of panoramic vistas, breathtaking overlooks and many opportunities for side trips. I have my Blue Ridge Parkway Guide opened and we decide that since the visitor’s center is located right near our entrance we will stop there to see if they can shed some light on any “must see” places.
We pull up to a nice looking building and enter the spacious exhibit area. We approach the lady at the regional information desk and inform her of our planned route. She pulls out a long sheet of yellow legal paper and with her best “south mouth” she informs us of the fatal flaw in our itinerary, “Aw, Shugar, the parkway is closed.” Excuse me? 4 miles from where we are standing the Blue Ridge Parkway is shut down due to icy, hazardous road conditions. It is closed for large portions of North Carolina, Tennessee & my beloved Virginia.

It doesn’t look so bad from here

Now we have already checked out of our hotel so we are homeless and destinationless. Uberbummer!! I inquire about the Appalachian Folk Art Center, which is 2 miles north and something I was planning to spend some time visiting today. She gives me the affirmative that the Parkway is still open to that point. I decide to drown my sorrows in some mountain crafts and threaten to buy an $800 painted quilt if Don doesn’t come up with a new plan.

The Appalachian Folk Art Center before I discovered the No Photography signs

The Folk Art Center is a combination gallery showcase, permanent exhibit hall & gift shop. It’s a wide open space that is festooned with all things mountain craft. There’s quilts, paintings, pottery, glass work, sculpture, woodworking, furniture, jewelry, textile work, etc. Today when you entered there was a woman operating a full loom and a gentleman making hand crafted brooms.
Don got away cheaply as I only purchased 2 post cards in the Visitor’s Center and nothing in the Folk Art Center. As we returned to the car we had to decide what our next step would be since we obviously could not continue on The Parkway. Don suggests we drive up to Bristol, TN/VA and then hit old route 11 for a scenic alternative to ever-boring 81.

Amazingly beautiful painted quilt

Not having any place else to go, I agree to the plan.
Once we hit Bristol we connect with Rt 11 & begin our trek through the vena cava of Southwestern VA. We decide that the furthest we will probably be able to handle in the car is somewhere between Christiansburg & Roanoke and figure we will look for a hotel room around there. We approach a little known hamlet called, Chilhowie, VA which is the hometown of a friend of mine. Stacy Cornwell has told me on more than one occasion of a local delicacy called, “the dip dog”. To me it sounds like a corn dog, which is something I can honestly say I have never eaten in my entire life. It’s past lunch time and I tell Don about the dip dog and he is ready to track one down.
We amble along the main drag in Chilhowie for a while & I am utilizing my many phone apps to try to locate the home of the dip dog to know avail. Don decides to break the guys code of conduct by pulling into a supermarket parking lot and approaching a nice normal looking woman who just came from the store. He inquires if she has any knowledge of the elusive dip dog.

The lovely Mrs. Johnson – a font of dip dog information

Not only does she give us detailed instructions to The Hi-Way Drive In (home of the dip dog) but she fills us full of local dip dog lore. For instance, they use a specially made frankfurter, a specially made batter & a specially made mustard. She buys them and freezes them. Her father in law (God rest his soul) knew the phone number by heart and would rattle it off from his bedroom whenever there was consideration of someone calling in an order for pick up. At your first visit you are given a souvenir mug & bumper sticker. The bumper sticker is sort of like Flat Stanley. People take them with them on their travels then photograph themselves with the bumper sticker and mail the picture back to The Hi-Way Drive In where they are prominently displayed on the walls. (We saw ones photographed in Havana, Cuba and many other interesting locales) Now we must have a dip dog! We follow her excellent instructions (it is off the beaten path shall we say) and arrive at a fairly crowded parking lot (for the middle of the week day in the middle of nowhere).

Me & my dip dog (It’s a good thing Jesus loves me ’cause I’m hating myself) www.dipdogs.com

It is not a fair assessment to call this a corn dog. The batter is thin, light and crunchy & the dog tastes like it was born and raised in NYC. It has a thin covering of a delicious mustard. It is really good (for carnival food). Now fully sated we return to the road and head on to Roanoke.

A few scenic diversions

Don on the rocks

As we approach the greater Roanoke area we decide, “Eh! We’ve come this far already. Let’s just go home.” Darren has arrived home for Spring Break & we are hosting Easter dinner for family and friends. Since we will need to make some preparations, like food shopping, cooking, cleaning, etc. we suck it up and complete the journey home. We are greeted by the 3 Dogs of the Apocalypse in the driveway, Darren in the kitchen and a pile of bills on the table. Happy Trails!

Post script: “It is finished” John 19:30
Good Friday, 2013
May you all have a blessed Easter & rejoice in The Lord.

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