Day 2: Lexington, VA to Nashville via Tail of the Dragon; 594 miles; “Sheer and Utter Violence”

[From 2009] 

            Trying to make up time, we boogied from Virginia to Knoxville, Tennessee, where we were desperate for lunch.  A quick Google search turned up Scruggs Real Pit Barbecue, what was promised to be the best BBQ in Knoxville.  The atmosphere was slightly off-putting, as there were padlocks on the soda chests; the cash we dropped into the counter tip jar was immediately emptied; and all of the coin-op games had “not working” signs on them, as did the bathroom.  But was the BBQ good?  Yes, oh my, yes.  The best smoked pork sandwich any of us had ever tasted.  Surprisingly, the pork was thinly sliced and not pulled, closer in taste to belly than shoulder, and not deeply sauced, in accord with Eastern Tennessee tradition. 

While we were wolfing down our sandwiches, fried okra, mac salad, baked beans and a giant plate of rib bones, the owner rushed into the place.  Our cook had called him and said that a pair of Ferraris had pulled up.  The owner didn’t believe it, and came down to see for himself.  “Now, boys, I’m delighted you came, but what the heck are you doing in the ghetto?” “Sorry, did you say ghetto?” “Yup!  This is the ghetto of Knoxville!”  We told him that the food was fantastic, and we were glad that we braved the visit (the Google search hadn’t said anything about the neighborhood).

Unfortunately, because of yesterday’s torrential downpours, the transporter couldn’t catch up to us, which meant no unleashing of the McLaren F1.  We had grand hopes of seeing it in action on the Tail of the Dragon, famed for its “318 curves in 11 miles” and one of the most famous motorcycling roads in America.  Undaunted, we proceeded to drive the Tail, starting from the Tennessee side.  Hundreds of motorcycles, from sportbikes to touring rigs to fully chromed Harley Davidson cruisers ascend and descend the road, sharing it fitfully with pickups, campers and Tennessee law enforcement. 

We ended up completing the Tail of the Dragon not just once but three times, swapping cars and seats.  At the busy gas station and campground – staging area, really – on the North Carolina end of the Tail, we met some friendly motorcyclists who wanted to follow us back across the Tail to shoot some videos on their hero cams.

It was on this road that the Scuderia 16M finally revealed its true character.  Yes, you can drop the top and cruise through Beverly Hills.  But give it some leash, and the deep impression you get is that of sheer and utter violence.  One simply cannot turn away from the shrieking sound, the mace blow the transmission makes on a full-throttle upshift, and the head-snapping stopping power of the carbon composite brakes.  With the Manettino turned to Race mode, Dan attacked the curves with violence in his heart, the ripping canvas of the exhaust drowning out even the open pipes on the American v-twins and Japanese fours. 

The next time through, we elect to drive “The Pace”, a motorcycling term to describe the maximizing of cornering momentum and accurate targeting of corner apexes while using virtually no brakes – and absolutely no crossing of the double-yellow.  Done properly, the Pace is almost as fast –if not faster— than a more aggressive attitude, requiring only faith from the driver that the car can take a fast entry speed without braking.  Here, the 16M shines as well, sticking close to our new motorcycling friends, dragging their knees deep into the corners. 

The 612 Scaglietti comports itself with dignity, keeping mostly up, showing a dropped hem only in the wisps of smoke coming off the brakes at the turnout.  Pretty impressive for our luggage carrier.

We had to call it a day on the Tail of the Dragon, as the roller coaster ride had made Glenn and Mark very queasy.  From there, we headed for the Cherohala Skyway, a relatively new 36-mile road cutting through the Cherokee and Nantahala National Forests (well over 50 miles if you add in the bits at the start and end that are equally impressive).  This road deserves to join the pantheon of great American roads, as it offers Skyline Drive views and curves, with almost no traffic.

As the clock was ticking ever louder, we were now making a run for Nashville.  Stricken with hunger pangs, we stopped at the Watts Bar Grill and Chill, a roadside bar just after the twin cooling towers of the nearby TVA nuclear power plant.  We had hoped to be as unobtrusive as possible, to get back on the road, but it was not too be (yes, shocking), with patrons emptying out to check out the cars.  Still, the wings and cheese steaks were more than passable, longnecks were Monday’s $1 special, and the locals were very friendly –everyone in the bar introduced themselves and shook our hands.

Dark now, we put the hammer down, cruising up Route 68 and flying west on I-40, doing 102 miles in an hour and 18 minutes. We’re spending the night at a Fairfield Inn at the Nashville airport.  Why here?