Passport Ride: South Mountain State Park

Originally Published in Southeastern Rider Magazine, April 2017

This is the second in a series of articles of my, and my favorite riding partner’s, trips to fill up our North Carolina State Park Passport.

We started by cutting through the warm, August morning air, heading north out of Locust, North Carolina. Central Avenue, also known as 200, is a road we travel often to get to Concord, the nearest urban area with everything we need, and a lot more.

Above us was a thin cloud cover, but the sun was already working on burning that thin layer off. We would be left with blue sky, the color Carolina is famous for having. The clearing would last for most of the day. Central Avenue ends by merging into 601, continuing us north, and into the Charlotte suburb. Next was the ramp to Highway 73, which began our trip west. We had to do this jockeying around, or go straight through the Queen’s City.

Also known as Davidson Highway, 73 has spots where it feels like a highway, but most of the time,  it feels like city street. The stop and go at the numerous lights was getting tiring, and I was thankful that hydraulic fluid was doing most of the working of my clutch on my VTX 1800. The journey felt long, but I am not too familiar with Charlotte traffic, and I’m not sure I want to cut my teeth on two wheels.

Our long and winding road to South Mountain State Park as provided by Microsoft's Streets & Trips.

We made it west of Interstate 77, and while the suburbs continued, we were afforded some nice vistas of the south end of Lake Norman. The businesses began to fade, as well as homes and traffic lights. Kasey, my back seat riding partner and I sighed through our smiles as moved into the rolling hills that would become The Smoky Mountains.

At this point we were on Highway 27, and would be passed Lincolnton, and then on to 182. The trees are lush, with branches full of deep green leaves, along with wide open areas where the grass waved in the gentle breeze. Kasey and I marvel at how much land is “unused” in North Carolina. We are used to every free square foot of land being used for corn, soy beans, housing or a commercial endeavor. For us, the raw land is useful eye candy.

State Road 18 was marked with the town of Fallston, and it was time for a break. The fueling station we stopped in on looked as though it had not changed since the days of leaded gasoline. As we have always found in North Carolina, the store was manned with a heaping helping of southern hospitality.

The break was welcoming, as the sweeping curves, and gentle rolls were becoming a bit hypnotizing. Polkville was a turning point, and a spot that I had picked for a bite to eat, but we had made good time, and our hunger had not hit us yet. Via 226, we turned on Melton Road, as we climbed the base of South Mountain. The road was narrowing, and becoming less of a road. We thought we were on the way to the campgrounds, but when gravel arrived, we decided to turn back.

We made our way back through Polkville, turning north this time and headed for the park’s main entrance. The power from the 1800 cc’s rolled on as we made our way up. A hard left hand turn marked our entrance into the state recreation area.

The South Mountain State Park Office is anchored by this topographical
map of the area. In addition, there is the usual compliment of items
featuring the park's name.

It wasn’t long until we arrived at the park office. This was really our destination, as our mission was to get our passport stamped. We browsed the shelves in the gift shop, and strolled through the displays, and then headed back outside. The air seemed to have changed some, but it felt moister. There was still lost of park to explore. We weren’t here to see the major attractions, just get an overview. South Mountain sports 40 miles of trails, including paths for horses, hikers, and bicycles.

The main draw could be the 80 foot waterfall. With all this natural beauty, it is hard to understand that it
became a state park as recently as 1974. The idea started in the 1940’s, however. The area first got popular in the late 1820’s when it was discovered that there was gold in them there hills.

The waterfall view included a hike, and we felt like we didn’t have the time, so we cruised along the road through the park to survey the campgrounds. We passed several sights. We could imagine ourselves roughing it here for a few days.

We made our way back out of the park, and exited on Wards Gap Road, heading north. After meandering for a bit, we joined up on Old North Carolina 18. We were beginning our journey east. It wasn’t long before stomach’s started grumbling. Town after small town we passed through had no offerings of sustenance. We continued on Highway 10. The bike was also getting hungry, so on the western edge of Newton, I pulled into a gas station.

Kasey stepped inside the small shop to grab a bottle of water. After the tank was topped off, I rolled the bike in front of the store. As I dismounted, I heard thunder roll across the sky. I quickly looked up, but the skies looked clear? I pulled out my phone, and clicked to the weather radar. Shortly after, I was distracted by a open bottle of water waving in front of me. I showed her the image on my phone, lots of green, blue and red on the screen between where we are, and where we want to be.

Another stamp added. Where will we venture
off to next?

We figured if we hit the road right away, and followed our route, we could miss the rain. As we continued through Newton, the skies grew darker, and eventually started
releasing liquid sunshine on us. It was a light mist, but a sign of what was to come. As we waited at a light, I looked across the way, and I saw a sign that mentioned steaks and buffet. It was an invitation to get inside from Mother Nature.

Sure enough, it did pour while we were eating, but the skies appeared to be clearing as we finished up. With our appetites sated, we made our last leg for home. We were hoping that Lake Norman would be the only water we would see, but no such luck.

I tried some detours to move around the storm, but to no avail. By the time we had a spot we could pull over to put on the rain gear, there was no reason. We were soaked to the bone, and would be until we made it home. I hoped the rain would end, and we would get blow dried, but the
precipitation persisted.

We arrived home safe and soaked, but also satisfied that we had gotten another stamp, and the passport was safe, inside a Ziploc bag. 

For more information:
North Carolina Parks & Recreation: http://www.ncparks.gov/

To read more of my motorcycle stories, you can check out my Motorcycle Blog at www.Blogspot.RodneysMCBlog.com