Did you go up Tusquittee and Tuni Gap?
I've been back there a few times... from the South I ended up where
Tusquitte goes dirt (and rutted and fuhgettaboutit)... another time
from the South I tried Tuni Gap, but the bridge was out... Another time
I tried to come in from the North and ended up probably on Junaluska/Wayah...
-Mike
Did not do that.
I've come down Tusquitte once on the Valkyrie and once up on a KLR.
Would NEVER do it again on a Valkyrie.
Tuni Gap is fine either way.
Tuni Gap is accessed off Big Choga Rd at the northern end from Junaluska Rd.
Tuni Gap isn't signposted. It goes off to the right at an angle from Choga.
From May 2005Sunday May 22nd 2005 I rode with the local club I belong to.
http://northgeorgiamotorcycleclub.com/The destination was the Cherohala Skyway
http://www.westernncattractions.com/cherohal.htm via a few back roads. We left Canton, GA just after 9a.m. under an overcast sky. The weathermen had hoped the sky would be blue and cloudless. As seems the case lately they screwed up.
The round trip was to be around 300 miles, which along with the overcast sky could be why only 11 of us turned out. I had elected to lead and the ride to T ellico Plains was uneventful. 4 of the riders peeled off in McCaysville and headed south homeward bound. Anthony (Scooter dude) was riding his 500cc Aprilia with daughter as passenger. Upon arriving in Tellico Plains, the western end of the Skyway Anthony had a grin as wide as the Cheshire cat. He thought Hwy 68 to Tellico plains was the dog’s bollocks.
I assured him that once on the Skyway he would reassess Hwy 68. After lunch at the Exxon gas station Jack let Anthony’s daughter ride passenger on his I/S. By now the weather had brightened considerably.
By the time we got to the first main overlook on the Skyway Anthony thought he had died and gone to heaven. Now Hal let Anthony’s daughter ride passenger on his Goldwing and we have our next stop at the highest overlook on the Skyway at 5,300 feet.
I stopped at the entrance to the overlook to make sure everyone following pulled off.
Not until I rode up into the parking lot did I realize one of the riders wasn’t present. I ran over to the edge and waved as he rode by. Shame he couldn’t see me standing silhouetted against the sky in my bright red jacket and white helmet waving.
I told the rest of the group I would chase him down to make sure he didn’t just keep on going and going and going. A rider we had just spoken to at the last overlook was closely following him on an older Goldwing. Within about 3 or 4 minutes I had caught both bikes up and thought I would be pretty visual in their rear view mirrors with my headlight modulator flashing. The Goldwing rider for some strange reason was riding right behind our club member, no staggering and way too close. If I ever have a stranger ride too close behind me I just roll off the throttle and let them go by. Don’t need them to run into me.
Eventually I have to blast past both of them to get in front so that our guy knew when to stop again.
At the end of the scenic part of the Skyway by the turn to the Joyce Kilmer Forest there is a convenient pull off with an information board. We all regrouped there and then the decision was to be made as to the route home. I had already told the group there was a “short cut” I wanted to take that meant riding on about 5 or so miles of hard packed dirt road. Hal elected to lead the group and I left them to return home.
My route was to take me to the north side of Hayesville, NC just above the Georgia State line. To get there I was going to ride south on Wayah Bald Rd for a few miles and then head west on Junaluska Road to Big Choga to the dirt road. Now this dirt road I had already used to go up and over the mountain to get to Hayesville but looking at maps and Streets & Trips it seemed there was a better way to go which would get me back onto blacktop near to where I usually did.
After about a mile of dirt I turned left onto the section I had never ridden before. I’m not a stranger to taking the Valk off blacktop
http://www.northgeorgiamotorcycleclub.com/stories/jb001-cwa.pdf is a story written by a friend of mine I had persuaded to ride on dirt with me.
The dirt road I normally use is wide enough for 2 vehicles and only slightly washboarded on a couple of the bends along its 5-mile length.
Immediately the unknown dirt road is narrower and obviously not traveled as frequently. This I deduce by the few tufts of weed growing in the center of the single track. The track rises pretty sharply on bends tighter than those at Deals Gap. Oh well the sooner I go up the sooner I go down. Still rising the track is deteriorating slightly but forward motion keeps the Valk pretty steady. Up I ride with the weeds in the center getting more prolific.
After a couple of twisty miles the option would be to turn around and retrace my route. Easy to do if not riding a bike the length of the Valk. I reckon I would either have to have my front wheel up a slope or the back wheel getting close to the edge to be able to complete the 180-degree maneuver. I have gone too far (stubborn) to be able to back down so I press on. At last I reach the summit and start to gingerly descend on the worsening surface. Minimal maintenance has been done to the track and in sections it feels like I am riding on pool balls on top of marbles. The handlebars are wagging from side to side and the front wheel keeps trying to slide away. It’s a strange feeling knowing that to stop falling over when the wheel slides I have to release the rear brake to get more forward speed and hence more stability.
By now the blackberry bushes are starting to crowd the track and I have to close my visor to keep them from hitting my face. As I do this I realize I have trapped a small bug inside my helmet so quickly I lift the visor and try to blow it out whilst still keeping the Valk from steering itself towards the drop off on my left. If I go over there I’ll never be found. The bug escapes and the visor comes back down. Why didn’t I stop to do this? I just knew if I stopped whilst going down the steep “slippery” slope I ran the risk of the bike falling over.
I’m now at the bottom of the slope and there is room to turn around and go back but after 3 ½ miles I know the end must be just around the corner. In fact just around the corner is a shallow stream I have to ford. This is done easily with both feet up on the pegs. A hiss of steam and the track starts to rise again.
Now the surface is not only covered in loose rocks and stones but also slick with water and moss. This section is in perpetual shade and my headlight modulator sensor ceases to work the light is so dim. The front wheel is wagging so much it feels like I have a flat.
This dimly lit section last for a short time and I start to break into sunlight once more after having to ford a deeper, wider stream. Only have to dab once with my left foot to keep the bike straight on course.
Up the track rises again and now it’s so rough I have to keep a firm grip on the handlebars which are wagging faster than a dogs tail. My grip on the gas tank with my thighs is getting tighter and tighter and I’m moving forward at about 4 miles an hour. So far I’ve gone 5 1/2 miles. Up and up and up. Rounding a bend there’s a small clearing to my right occupied by four horses and their on foot riders. I chug slowly by under the incredulous stare of all four. I raise my left hand for a quick wave and one rider bemusedly raises his in return. Going down a slope and rounding a very sharp hairpin bend I see why they stared. The track is now completely broken up with water channels running at a very gradual diagonal. These try to capture both front and rear wheels to make me ride off the edge into the trees alongside and below. For the first time I have to stop and use both legs whilst I paddle walk the Valk up and over these ruts. This continues for about 100 yards. Great for trail riding on a horse. I guess that’s why the riders were out. They knew there was no chance of a motorized vehicle coming along!
Down the track goes again and levels out with yet another stream to ford, the biggest so far. I’m able to put the Valk onto its sidestand and test the depth of the water with a stick. The stream bottom is made up of small stones with a good solid rock surface underneath. About 9 inches deep in the center and 6 feet wide the edges slope gradually and I make it across with minimal water in each boot.
7 miles traversed and I must be getting to the end of the dirt road soon. There are a couple of old wooden shacks covered in weeds off to the side and I hear the faint echoes of a banjo playing in the back of my mind. Scenes from Deliverance, X-Files and Wrong Turn flash through my head and my right hand forces a tad more gas into the engine causing the back wheel to slide away. My thighs are aching and sweat is dripping off my nose. Who knew going so slowly could be such hard work. Constantly changing from first to second and back has meant I have only had to use the rear brake for the past 1-½ hours. 15 more minutes and here is the blacktop.
I know if I stop straight away there’s a chance that my legs will cramp up and I’ll drop the bike. So I decide to ride for about a couple of hundred yards and then stop to give my legs a chance to relax.
Rounding a bend my jaw drops. There are about 100 Harley Davidson’s of all shapes and sizes parked all over the road and verges. Customs with rear wheels the width of a cows butt. Choppers with extended forks, full dressers and people walking in the road. I hit my Fiamm horns a couple of times to open a path through them. All the pedestrians freeze. They must know it’s a dirt road just around the bend so WHERE THE HELL HAVE I COME FROM? I thread my way through them with the dust accumulated from THE 8-mile dirt road rising from the Valk and I like talcum powder from a Whigs wig..
One rider with WOLVERINE printed on the back of his T-shirt wobbled his bike out in front of me and in response to a couple more blasts of my horn quickly rode onto the grass verge. Now I’m through the gaggle of bikes and riders and open up the Valk hoping to get more dust off me.
I look in my mirror and 15 or 20 bikes have pulled in behind me. I assume that they heard my horn and thought the group was on the move. OH well I don’t mind leading them a merry dance. There’s a couple of customs I can see and a couple of bikes with passengers. Now I’m on a road I’ve ridden 3 or 4 times before so I just ride at a good peg scraping speed around the bends slowing down a little on the short straights. The bends are only 30 to 45 mph. In my mirrors I can see riders crossing the centerline trying to keep up. This continues for about 5 miles when I see another large group of bikes parked on the right in front of a “General Store”. Five or six people step out in front of me waving their arms in a slow down motion. Now I’m sure these guys are friendly but I move over to the left and pass them by as the bikes behind me pull over and stop.
Into Hayesville and then southwards home.
No more dirt roads for me for quite a while.
