They say April showers bring May flowers for a reason. After last weekend’s monsoon in Maggie Valley, it was nice to hit the road with the sun shining and the lush green forests of North Carolina before me – the perfect departure from a hectic week at work. Even more thrilling was leaving work early and having at least a day to get away from the computer to play a new stage in Blowing Rock, North Carolina at Canyons.
Blowing Rock is a gorgeous highland community in North Carolina and a favorite spot for skiers during winter and the rest of the season a great perch for a panoramic view of the Blue Ridge Mountains. I’m not that familiar with this town and maybe that’s the reason I got lost.
I think it was somewhere in on the other side of Boone, North Carolina, I realized I was way off the mark. I was headed towards Winston-Salem down the back side of a mountain and I knew that wasn’t right. I stopped at a convenience market to find out I was 45 minutes off course. Daydreaming as usual….
The attendant suggested the Blue Ridge Parkway to the Blowing Rock exit, but by the time I got on the parkway, I realized I was almost out of gas too. So I’m late, out of bounds and almost out of gas. Sprint’s service ended hours ago and although the scenery was gorgeous, my butt-checks were tight as I wondered if I would make it to the stage.
Finally, a sign off the parkway into Boone and I got back on 321 and headed into this mountain town. It was much like I remembered from when I was a kid and Canyons was easy to find. It’s on top of the mountain and its parking lot has one of the most scenic views of any restaurant in Boone.
They serve a tex-mex fare at Canyons and their decor is accented by turquoise and orange, but the golden/lavender glow of the daily sunset is their most memorable attraction and it was pretty cool over the past couple of weeks to check out their live web cam overlooking the valley below – so the view was a bit familiar.
As I parked the Jeep, Jason, Greg, Alan and Jim were already there. We picked a table, ordered a few New Castles and had dinner while the sun was setting beyond the long glass wall along the west side of the room. We didn’t have to play till 10.00 and was nice just to sit and enjoy the moment.
Lenny Haynes was there with his dad Ken and his mother. He had decided to take them on a road trip into North Carolina and I grabbed some great pictures of their family in the glow of the sunset. It’s nice to see people like this sharing times together. 
Since I was late (I was supposed to have been there at 4.00), Greg and Alan had already scoped out the hotel. We had booked rooms at The Green Park Inn and I wasn’t sure what to expect. The Trip Advisor website had some bad things to say about hot water and although their website talks about a historic accommodations, I wasn’t sure what to expect.
After dinner, we had close to an hour and half before we could set up our gear. Reagan had just arrived and everything seemed to be on hold until the dinner crowd left, so I decided to check into the hotel. Alan and I were sharing a room on this go-around. Both he and Greg were all aglow about the place and rightfully so.
It’s not often we get to stay in such a unique hotel as The Green Park Inn, but this place is regal. The parking lot is on the Eastern Continental Divide (a 3620 ft marker than I’m not sure of the significance) and the Blowing Rock monument is right across the street.
As you walk past the stone walkway to the lobby, it’s easy to imagine the footsteps of over 118 years of travelers and the free time and celebrations this place has hosted. The downstairs was filled with antiques and a room full of photos and newspaper clippings about the hotel’s history. My favorite images were the stories about the parties that were held there, the traveling jazz acts and there were a few presidents and other dignitaries that made their way to this mountain top retreat.
Originally, the only road to this hotel was 18 miles away in Lenoir and anyone visiting the Green Park was in for a days ride at least. It’s easy to imagine how far away and high in the sky this hotel must have seemed to the visitors in the early twentieth century. The pictures on the walls share a common instance of the Greenpark, depicted by its Victorian (in these images) black and white contrast. The people – ghostly in their posture seem trapped in the grounds and the rooms and is easy to imagine a few are still lurking.
The long hallways reminded me of The Shining and by the time I got to my room, it was clear this was no ordinary place. Our room was on the west wing of this 88 room manor and overlooked a pristine golf course.
Jason, Greg, Alan, Jim and Debbie joined us for a few drinks on the patio as the sun set. We smoked a few ghastly cigars too, but everyone was anxious (as we usually are) to set up the stage and we were back on the road to Canyons.
Jeff Malone was there with Reagan and Tony when we returned. Our SUVs blinking parking lots in the front door, we began the rush of bringing gear in the front door as new strangers cradled their beers at the end of the work week.
Canyons has a nice stage and the band fit well into this space. A six-band is hard to corral on some of the stages we play, but we always seem to make do. The sound check was quick and our sets were really starting to click. The rehearsals to crop out the dead space between songs is reshaping our pace and there were some great moments tonight with the harmonies and tight solos.
In our first break, there was a bearded gent who extended his appreciation. He had seen the write-up in the paper and saw there was no cover. He said, ‘I love country music and I wasn’t sure of what to expect, but damn, you all sound great.’
Nice compliment from a dude who turned out to be from Idaho. When he said it sounded more like “EyedaHo,” but his story was interesting. He shared with me how he moved to Blowing Rock as a wood sculptor – he uses chainsaws to carve bears, Indians and other creative pieces that seem to make a good living for him here in the mountains of North Carolina.
After our second set, Jason and Greg were eager to get back to the Green Park Inn. Evidently, there was a little bar there and more importantly a pool table, so we made no haste packing up the gear and driving the short distance back to the Inn and their bar called appropriately – “The Divide.”
It was there that one of the innkeepers referred to me as “Baron.” Seemed kind of funny at the time but considering the ghostly vibe of this hotel and a new “smoking jacket” I was wearing that night it seemed appropriate.
The Divide is a warm small bar in the Green Park that can accommodate some 100 people or so and in the back was a pool table and most of the band and Jeff Malone spent the rest of the morning there and closed down the room. As usual, the bar tab was hefty with me and Greg splitting the $170 tab after “21 red-headed sluts.”
By the time the bartenders yelled “last call” throughout the room, we were still pretty rowdy too, so we headed back to the room.
Now I know what it feels like to be on the other end of a rowdy party. While everyone else was sleeping at the Green Park – around 3 in the morning – Jason, Alan, Greg and myself were still up smoking cigars and having a few more beers and as usual, we were all laughing at each other through the final hours and came very close to getting the boot from one of the managers.
(Unfortunately, this would be Alan’s last performance with Reagan’s band and the end of the lineup that began last year)
It could of been the noise we were making, but as we were looking out on the golf course, I turned to see Jason bringing some queen ann chair from the hallway and banging the corners of the small corridors to bring a chair out to the balcony.
The next morning, I got up early and enjoyed breakfast at the Inn by myself sometime around 10.00 and it was plenty of time to explore the memorabilia about this great place. There were plenty of newspaper articles, old photos and antiques throughout this place to keep one busy for quite some time.
Right across the street was the entrance to the Blowing Rock State Park so I decided to grab the cameras and check out this attraction. The sky was a perfect blue and the yellow dandelions that speckled the entrance were memorable, but the view and the legend of Blowing Rock is a bit too much for the $6.00 admission.
They have a little gift shop there that has a handful of trinkets and he rock cliffs that overlook the St. George Valley were beautiful, but no much more than you can see driving down the parkway. I snapped a few pictures and headed home.
I love coming back into Tennessee from any direction and this short excursion over 321 through the Cherokee National Forest is extraordinary – particularly on this day.
It must have been the bounty of Spring too because the colors of the trees, especially the Royal Paulownia or Princess Trees were gorgeous as their purple colors were reaching out along the narrow two-laned roads from Mountain City to Watauga Lake. It seemed like there was an invasion of yellow and black swallowtails too along this route as hundreds of these striking butterflies were slumbering in the afternoon breeze along the way.
I stopped for a few minutes along Watauga Lake. This is one of the first reservoirs of the Tennessee Valley Authority and the cleanest and most pristine lake in Tennessee. The wind was ripping the current and sailboats across the water were a serene postcard on this sunny April afternoon.
For me and the band, another show was a memory and unfortunately, the only thing that disrupted this adventure for me was the nagging obsession with my computer and my work. More on that later, but the trip to Canyons was great fun, we hope they’ll have us back soon and I get the chance visit the Green Park Inn again.