total miles: 2409.
We left Knoxville at about our usual time: 9am. After filling the tank we jumped onto I-40 east. At exit 407 we left the interstate intending to make our way to Pigeon Forge, in the direction of the Smoky Mountains.
Upon leaving the highway we were struck by the mind-numbing number of attractions, motels, food joints, shopping outlets, an endless sea of opportunities to persuade the traveler to part with money: a museum dedicated to the Titanic housed in a half-scale replica of the front half of the ship; a museum called Wonderworks, located in an upside-down building, billboard after billboard announcing the dinner theater featuring not Arthur Miller or Edward Albee but the Hatfield and McCoy feud and of course the many attractions offered by Dolly Parton. This was particularly true as we passed through Sevierville, Dolly's hometown.
And we were still 10 miles from Gatlinburg!
We had seen enough. We reversed course and after a couple of miles turned east on 411 to make our way to I-40. We soon found ourselves driving along gorgeous rolling hills, a world away from the kitsch of Dollywood and its retainers when lo and behold we came across a sign for the Bush's Bean Visitor Center! We love Bush's Beans so we just had to stop.
The visitor center was neatly laid out directly across from the plant and next to A. J. Bush's original homestead (he had gotten into the canning business with Stokely and Van Camp who lived just up the road apparently). We spent a pleasant half hour or so learning about the history of the company and, most importantly, how their wonderful canned beans are produced. For example, did you know they mix the beans with the sauce in the can and not before or that most people throw away the little piece of bacon they put in every can? Well, I didn't. . .
We were soon back on the road and before we knew it had switched to I-40 north. It wasn't long before we turned north on I-81 heading for Virginia. (Utterly useless note: we got on at the very beginning of I-81 and would eventually leave it at it's terminus just before Canada.)
After an hour or so we were in Virginia and the closer we got to Roanoke, the more memories began flooding back. Our nostalgia conflicted with the painful reality of traffic on this stretch of interstate: multiple trucks passing multiple trucks, slow RVs hauling their stuff up from points down south making their way to the cool climes of the northern US for the summer.
But it was a gorgeous day and we were in no hurry, an attitude we have tried to hold throughout our journey.
Eventually we left I-81 just short of Roanoke, at exit 141 and made our way to the Hampton Inn on Electric Road, Salem, home for the next two nights. After settling in Susie commenced to spend some quality time doing laundry in the hotel's on-site facility while I found my way to the fitness center.
Later that evening we drove around searching out two major haunts: the Berry house where we were married in 1983, which is still there, and our little home on 26th Street, which is also still there.
For dinner we ate at the Blue Apron and Red Rooster Bar on Main Street in Salem (a suburb of Roanoke and home of Roanoke College). The experience reminded us that, like Grand Rapids, Roanoke has come far in the food world.
 |
| the Berry home on Audubon, hidden in the trees |
 |
| 410 26th Street |
Our first stop was to locate a florist, which we found in short order. It was then off to see the Berrys -- it had been a dozen years since we had last spent any time with them and they were a large part of the reason for this very trip. Getting slightly turned around only once we soon found their home and spent the next hour and a half or so sharing news and stories. Although Margie is pretty wheelchair bound her wit is still as dry and lively as we remembered and Bob is as generous with his time and attention as always. The young companion who was there helping out -- she comes in three times a week -- commented on how wonderful it was for her to see two people so much in love and each so caring for the other, and, as a single mom raising two girls, a phenomenon she felt is becoming far less frequent.
After saying adieu to the Berrys we pushed on to a nearby entrance to the Blue Ridge Parkway.
After just a few miles we left the Parkway at Mill Mountain Road and made our way up to the Roanoke Star, another favorite place, and one that provides a superb view of the city below and valley beyond.
 |
| downtown Roanoke |
Leaving the Star we made our way to downtown. Finding a place to park we strolled the old marketplace -- much had changed inside since we were here last, it's primarily a food court of sorts.
 |
| inside the old marketplace |
 |
| across one corner of the marketplace is Billy's where we'll be eating this evening |
 |
| marketplace exterior |
We did find a place to sit outside and have a glass of chilled rosé before heading to the nearby Taubman Art Museum. Like the Grand Rapids Museum, the building itself is really the star. There is only one floor consisting of just several galleries and for us only the John Singer Sargent ("Norah Gribble") and Winslow Homer print were of interest. Still, others might find the more contemporary work such as the Bob Trotman installation to be more to their liking. An impressive structure though.
While browsing through the museum shop -- a leased concession we learned -- we met the shop owner, who had lived in the Cascade area near Grand Rapids years ago while managing the Hudson's store at Woodland Mall!
Leaving downtown we made our way back to the hotel and relaxed until it was time to return once more to downtown for dinner. We met John and Lolly Rosemond as we were walking into Billy's and they were pulling up curbside. The four of us spent an evening of catching up and sharing family news.
For those of you not privy to the historical details, in 1981 I took a leave of absence from my graduate studies at the University of Virginia and moved to Roanoke to be closer to Susan who was working there at the time. I found work at a family-run bookstore called Ram's Head in the Towers Mall. Owned and operated by John and Lolly the store was a refuge, a place to get lost in among the incredible world of books. I spent the next year or so meeting some of the most interesting people and just having fun playing with books. Lots of defining memories crammed into such a short time. . . .
After dinner it was time to say adieu and so we did. We hope it won't be another dozen years for returning this way, but then I'm
Tomorrow it's off to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania Don't touch that dial!
(edited for clarity and accuracy by Susan VandenBerg)
