(Road trip day 7)

I have a tendency toward detail and verbiage and so if you want to jump to section two: The Real Reason We’re Here, I won’t be offended.

What the hell is in Banner Elk, North Carolina?

We left Nashville after another fortifying hotel breakfast and decided to hunt for [Yazoo] Gerst Amber Ale. Todd loves a red ale and this one was excellent. There is a great deal of history associated with Gerst that dates back to 1859 and the original Nashville Brewing Company. This happened and that happened and blah blah blah and in 2011 Yazoo Brewery was contracted to produce its version.

We ended up at the cleanest and emptiest Costco, I swear, in the history of Costcos. I mean, it’s clearly an anomaly but then again, it was a Friday morning at opening. Even the parking lot was empty! It was like being in some parallel universe.

Anyway, no Gerst at Costco but we did find it at a nearby grocery store. Cold – so that meant we drove these two six packs around for the next five days, moving it from fridge to cooler several times before we got home.

The next six hours were spent driving across Tennessee, listening to music and Todd whistling badly along. He started singing along to one of Prince’s songs until I gave him a dirty look. I keep a journal I refer to as The Captain’s Log that I will jot down notes along the routes. It’s a month later and my personal journal is still empty of details from this leg of our journey, so all I have are a couple of route and town names from the Captain’s Log.

Today, it is bittersweet to say how beautiful western North Carolina is. I feel so blessed to have seen so much of it from our highways and byways – truly breathtaking vistas of woodland and mountains, modest country homes and chapels, old barns and farmhouses. There were small towns we drove through that truly captured what we envision when we think about Rockwellian, small-town America.

We traveled to Banner Elk by way of route 194, passing through Valle Crucis, a small town that still held, to quote the Taylor House Inn, “an air of simplicity lost to most places generations ago.” I spotted the 141-year-old Mast General Store, another of those beauties I always wish I’d stopped and at least taken a photo of, but we were anxious to get to our hotel by this point. (These areas have suffered a great deal of devastation, but the Mast is still standing according to WFMY CBS News 2.)

We arrived to the small town of Banner Elk about 4 or 5, passing the Lees-McRae College, a small, private liberal arts college. We made a right turn immediately after it onto Tynecastle Road, passing through the charming little town with restaurants under hanging lights, folks walking around. We continued through to the hotel I booked for the night: Best Western Banner Elk.

The woman at the front desk was lovely – very warm and welcoming – we chatted about what brought us here and how we were on a 10-day road trip and she told us she has driven around the country in an RV and I said OMG I have wanted to do this (not in an RV but I didn’t tell her that) forever. She pointed us in the direction of our room on the first floor of this motel and told us to park in the space directly in front of it (important detail – stay tuned).

So we drove around to where our room was. I mean, I’m a bit spoiled so I like to stay in nice places. My mom would argue that includes room service because of the ONE time I ordered at the St. Moritz in New York, but she is wrong. We opened the door to a compact room with what I would (and did) report was a filthy carpet, and the room smelled…. I don’t know…. old. Musty.

I asked Todd if he needed coffee because I was hopeful that a brewing pot would mask the smell a bit. It sort of worked. We decided to rest a bit before we went out for dinner. Todd took one double bed, I took the other. This was not the preferred arrangement, but this was the hotel I booked, for one night, to do what we came here to do. We can manage.

Moments later he said, “what is that noise?” Every two seconds a squeaking noise – from the other side of the wall because they roomed us NEXT TO THE FUCKING LAUNDRY ROOM – a steady rhythm coming from a washer or a dryer, perhaps all twenty of them? “This is going to give me a headache if this doesn’t stop.” I suggested now would be the time to go get dinner. Surely they’ll be done by the time we get back. It was almost 6:00.

We picked the Town Tavern of Banner Elk, a sports bar with lots of TVs to watch the Eagles game. Todd put it in his GPS and started out of the parking lot, turning left. Um, isn’t it a right turn? That’s the way back into town. “Well, I put it in the GPS and this is the fastest way,” he said. But, but—

I decided to just shut up and ride. I’m a bit of an anxious passenger and he has witnessed many white-knuckled grips on the door handle and loud exhales and… finally when I open my mouth because I can’t hold it in a moment longer because least I have never shouted, stop whistling! out loud instead of in my head… I say, are you sure this is right? I feel like this isn’t right. He was exasperated and not in the mood for me to argue about the accuracy of his GPS. Plus, hungry.

So, I dubiously watched the sights go by and it’s now been fifteen minutes in the car and we’re slowly climbing another mountain and according to my GPS we’re driving away from Banner Elk. I waited another five minutes and brought it up again. I picked up his phone and it was saying we still had a ways to go and I’m all, Todd. We should have been there by now. What way is it taking us? At which point he realized there’s apparently a Town Tavern in another town over and THAT’S where we’re going. Oh my God.

To wrap it up: he admitted that it was wrong and we turned around and went to the Town Tavern in Banner Elk, sat at a high top table near the bar facing the Eagles game and had some good food and beverage. Discovered yet another red ale – Gaelic Red Ale out of Asheville – that he loved. After, we drove back to the motel and… we couldn’t park in our spot because the guests next door don’t know how to park a fucking car and so our spot remained empty all night…and… the machines were STILL running.

He starts walking over to the laundry where a woman was working with multiple carts of sheets and I’m like, Todd, no! Please don’t. We’ll just keep the tv on and it’ll drown out the noise. Nope. He asked her how much longer because of the squeaky noise while I darted into our room.

The next morning we to the free breakfast next to the lobby – another spread of biscuits and gravy (we are in the south, ffs, but I’m still not eating it), reconstituted eggs, bagels and pastry. The orange juice was delicious! Seriously, best OJ of the vacation. Went back to the room to load up the car and our “neighbors” who can’t park a car were outside and Todd asked if they could move it so we can pull up to load our bags.

How many bags for one night? You should know that I pack heavy everywhere I go and so I had my two suitcases plus a big shoulder bag and hadn’t bothered to organize for one night before we left Nashville. And then there was the cooler bag and the beer.

The Real Reason We’re Here

(Road trip day 8)

1400 words later. Sometime last spring I stumbled across a photo of a yellow-paved sidewalk that appeared to disappear into a forest, littered with fallen leaves, ominously draped in fog. A quick search led me to the discovery of The Land of Oz.

A theme park inspired by the Wizard of Oz, it first opened in 1970. Currently it opens for three weekends in September for an annual event called Autumn At Oz. So naturally I was like, how far is it from Nashville? Todd is many things but it cannot be understated how much he indulges me. Land of Oz is on Beech Mountain, a ski resort area that is well-traveled by those who love winter sports and from my eyes appears quite affluent.

I got timed tickets for the first Saturday. You drive up the mountain and follow signs for parking. There are several stone gravel parking lots and you best remember which one you parked in. On this morning it was a chilly 59 degrees, thick fog, and lightly misting.

We checked in, got our wrist bands, and then took the “shuttle” up to the top of the mountain. We were the last two people on this “Christian Ministry” church van so we weren’t able to sit together and I had to ask one man to pick up his toddler in the last seat so I could sit down.

I cannot stress enough, nor adequately describe, what this ambling, rocking mini-bus accelerating and braking on the serpentine road so dense with fog it was impossible to see anything, that was barely wide enough for two cars, was like for my anxiety. I kept thinking this has to be worth it, it has to be worth it, I can’t believe we were just in 89-degree Nashville and everything was so magical and now I’m going to die in a bus crash in western North Carolina all because I had to go to the Land of Oz. And if we didn’t die, we’d surely end up with Covid because humid van and at least one child coughing out into the abyss. I silently apologized to the back of Todd’s head.

So after what felt like an hour in a cliffhanging petri dish, we stepped out of the van and Todd told me how carsick he was. I knew that was coming. I also knew I needed a porta-potty right away. But, after all that, it WAS WORTH IT.

You enter in “Kansas,” where you’ll meet Professor Marvel at his carriage and Miss Gulch milling about (photo ops), where you can shop for souvenirs and begin “the show” at the Gale Farm. There are timed performances all over the park. This particular one you are held to before entering the farmhouse. Here there is a live Toto. (Elsewhere he is a stuffed dog carried by Dorothy.)

The farmhouse walks like a museum, the rooms meant to match those of the movie and even Auntie Em is waiting to greet you in the kitchen. You step through a door and are thrust into a darkroom with blacklights and glowing images on the walls, the loud sound of tornado winds all around you. On the other side is the house in disarray, furniture askew and torn curtains.

Here, the floor is tilted in such a way that it made me dizzy with vertigo and I had to catch myself on a wall to stop from falling. It was really disorienting, and I was grateful to step outside of the front door to be immediately accosted by the Wicked Witch of the West pointing at her sister’s legs peeking out from the under the house.

We entered Oz at this point, where the Yellow Brick Road begins, huge flowers pushing skyward on either side. The path is traveled at your leisure, though there are photo ops and timed “shows” at several locations: Glinda the Good Witch, Scarecrow, Tin Man, the Cowardly Lion. The lines for pics are long but the staff is very good at moving people along. There are many breathtaking views of the mountains and valleys below. It’s impossible to give it justice and the pictures we took cannot capture the awe of these views.

The Winkie Guards in the Wicked Witch’s haunted forest stood motionless until you got close, and then jump scare you. You can try to joke with them, but they are not amused (as in, never break character). There is a photo-op with the Wicked Witch and Nikko (the flying monkey), where she lobs insults at you and sends Nikko out hunting for Dorothy but instead comes back with one of the park guests nearby – in this case, Paul, who good-naturedly went along with it even as she screamed that he was NOT who she asked for and that Paul is a terrible name.

We got to see one of the original balloon baskets used in the film, but no photo ops there. We passed through the poppies along the Yellow Brick Road until we arrived at the gate to Emerald City. The jolly Guardian of the Gates greets everyone (photo op). The final show is here and it’s short and sweet and there’s a photo op with the cast on stage afterward. There are vendors here for shopping and food.

Here you can also, as an add-on, climb to the Over the Rainbow Overlook, “nearly one mile high in the sky!” It’s not difficult – the path is non-slip composite with steps and landings – but I became winded several times and can only assume it was the altitude. BUT. Once you get to the top, God’s country is awe-inspiring. I mean, just … Wow.

I forgot about the almost cult-following of the Wizard of Oz and by this I mean there were many, many folks dressed as characters. I saw a lot of Dorothy’s (including men – one who carried Grogu* in his basket instead of Toto) and Cowardly Lions (one eating breakfast at our motel) and a couple of Tin Men. It was so much fun!

We left the park nearly 4 hours after we arrived. Saw the chairlift while we waited for the shuttle back. There were people coming off with bikes and helmets to, apparently, do some extreme biking. Todd remarked how there was a time he’d have been all in, but now he’s afraid he’d die. (Funny, I feel the same way about his driving.) (< okay he doesn’t really drive crazy but I definitely have more anxiety I did when we were 17.)

We were fortunate that the fog lifted and the sun shone brightly enough to bring some warmth to the mountain by the time we left. We climbed onto a full-sized purple school bus and the driver, once it was adequately full, stood at the front and asked if anybody here owned a white Kia Telluride parked in Lot 2. There was a collective murmur but no one did. I didn’t ask her, but to this day I’m still wondering. How can you ask that and not tell us why?

From Beech Mountain we drove through the mountains of the High Country which, as you know, has been devastated by the hurricane. It was timely, this road trip we took, and that has not been lost on me. Like many places we’ve been, I feel like I carry a piece of it with me, and I feel invested in knowing how those places are recovering.

This last leg of our journey was to Ocean City, Maryland – a 9-hour drive that took us through Norfolk and through the Chesapeake Bay Bridge, thankfully in the dark, and all I could see was chunky waves biting at the edges and utter darkness beyond.

Miscellaneous

The label on the Gerst can is based on an original pre-prohibition label from the early 1900s.

If you negatively review the Best Western, they will not only email you directly, but they will also call you. I wasn’t exactly negative, I was honest. These are things they need to fix. Still, I feel a tiny bit guilty given that much of Banner Elk is still without power and running water.

Beech Mountain’s elevation is an impressive 5,505 feet, the highest ski resort in Eastern North America and the highest town east of the Rockies. Where I live: 299 feet. (That’s two-hundred and ninety-nine feet.)

Land of Oz tickets, including the overlook, cost me about $130. Worth every penny. Debbie Reynolds, who owned many of the film’s costumes that were displayed at the museum there, attended the ribbon cutting with her daughter, Carrie Fisher.

After a fire at Emerald City in 1975 and the film’s costumes, along with Dorothy’s dress, were stolen and the park falling into decline in subsequent years, the Land of Oz was closed. It was later revitalized and the first Autumn at Oz (as this event is officially called) opened in October 1993.

The costumes were crazy good – no wonder since they were redesigned two years ago by Austin Scarlett of Project Runway.

Grogu, for those who don’t follow, is also popularly referred to as “Baby Yoda.”

At 2,908 words, this might be the longest post I’ve ever written. I’m sorry. The pictures are mine and I’m an amateur, so give me some grace. Also, didn’t want to give it all away. Nothing is better than your own experience. One more post left to end the road trip that never ends and I promise it’s much shorter. At least I hope it will be.

Praying for all those affected by Hurricane Helene.