In March 2022, Laurie and I embarked on a pilgrimage of sorts to learn more about the roots of American music. Our destinations included Nashville, Memphis, Muscle Shoals, Asheville and Bristol. This was a long-imagined trip for me and I was delighted that Laurie agreed to join me. Barb was happier that I went with someone rather than go alone — she was never a candidate for this journey — though I’m sure she would have preferred (on many levels) I didn’t go at all.
Here is my account of the trip in gory detail, in three parts: Nashville, Memphis, and Asheville/Bristol. I’ve also done companion posts, including my Memphis Music Education, National Museum of African American Music Playlists. I’ve posted a condensed summary of the trip (with no photos) for public viewing, along with public versions of my Memphis Music Education, National Museum of African American Music Playlists on Billzdaze.com.
- Tuesday, March 22 – Chattanooga to Asheville – Ocoee, Nantahela, Smoky Mountain National Park, Asheville
- Wednesday, March 23 – Asheville – Escape Room
- Thursday, March 24 – Asheville – Hiking
- Friday, March 25 – Asheville to Bristol – Birthplace of Country Music Museum
- Saturday, March 26 – Bristol to Home – End of the Road
- Afterword
Tuesday, March 22 – Chattanooga to Asheville
We got on the road before 10am, after Laurie navigated WalMart to find some medications for a nascent cold she’d started nursing – she tested negative for Covid the evening before, just as a precaution.
The drive from Chattanooga took us mostly uphill through the western slope of the Appalachians. Or are they the Blue Ridge or the Smokies at that point? We weren’t sure of the distinction. Before long, the road became the Ocoee Scenic Byway. I hadn’t realized this 30-mile stretch was on the route and had never heard of it, but it turned out to be beautiful, winding along river rapids and lakes formed by several dams. It was the prettiest driving part of the whole road trip.
The rapids were the site of the 1996 Atlanta Olympics whitewater events. We pulled off at the Whitewater Center which was the actual site of the Olympic events; the visitor center was closed but we got out and walked around a bit, taking pictures from the bridge. It was a cool looking spot with lots of pathways along the mostly dry rocks. It reminded me of the Boca del Asno park above Segovia where Laurie and I walked in the very peaceful woods. I’m sure these rapids are a different scene in a crowded summer or when the water is up, but on this sunny early-Spring day it was lovely and quiet.
We crested a ridge of mountains and entered the Nantahela National Forest. Laurie said that she and Maggie had rafted the Nantahela River a couple of times when Maggie spent a summer in the region in the early 2000s. We rounded a corner and came upon the Nantahela Outdoor Center which Laurie recognized as a spot she came with Susanna and her kids at some point. We stopped for lunch at the Center’s restaurant right on the river, very literally. We watched as a lone kayaker worked his way up and down the river a few times. We had a nice lunch – chili and “Sherpa Rice” which turned out to be mostly vegetables for me, a huge fried chicken sandwich for Laurie with good fries. For once, my meal was the healthier of the two.
Our next stop was a visitor center in the City Hall of Bryson City, a gateway to the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. The two folks manning the center were very friendly and yet not terribly informative in response to our dumb questions about what to see in the area and what was the difference between the Smokies and Blue Ridge. They did have some nice jigsaw puzzles and I got one for Barb, along with National Park Service stamps and maps.
We’d noticed signs to the “Road to Nowhere.” We also saw a reference to the Road to Nowhere School, which seemed a particularly inopportune name for a school (imagine claiming “I was first in my class”)…but its real name was Swain High School. The visitor center people said the Road to Nowhere was a nice scenic drive to a lake and view from the mountain. We gave it a try, winding up the wooded road about 6 miles before it ended abruptly at a parking lot and tunnel. No vista, no lake. We walked through the dark tunnel and found nothing more promising on the other side, so headed back to the car for the drive down. In the downhill direction we saw a few nice views of the valley and a lake/river/reservoir below. Turns out that was the lake, I guess. There is more to the story of the Road to Nowhere (see blog post linked above) but for us the drive was not what we hoped, merely a minorly aggravating diversion.
We rolled briefly through the town of Cherokee, a throwback strip of tourist traps that didn’t compel us to stop (other than a quick bathroom break at a Burger King), and entered the actual Great Smoky Mountain National Park, stopping immediately at the Oconaluftee Visitor Center at nearly 4pm. We asked the guide about what to see in the time remaining. He suggested the drive up to Newfound Gap, the highest point accessible since the road to Clingman’s Dome was not open yet for the season. The Gap would be closing later in the evening for potential high winds, but the day was still calm and clear.
We drove the 30 minutes or so to Newfound Gap, seeing some elk and a turkey along the way. There were a few pullouts for views as we drove upward but I figured we could stop on the way down if we wished. We made it to the parking lot at Newfound Gap and were surprised to find it teeming with people and cars. The views were frankly not especially awe inspiring. It was almost more fun hearing all the various accents and oddball comments from the other tourists crawling all over the site. My overwhelming sense was that there’s not a whole lot to do in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park unless you’re partaking in hiking or other moments in nature. There were few other roads or drives to other sights that I could find.
We drove back down, past the visitor center, got some gas in Cherokee, then embarked on the Blue Ridge Parkway in the direction of Asheville. The Parkway was a nicer drive with better views than the one main road in the national park. We wound through for about an hour before jumping off for the final 30 minutes or so on interstates to get to Asheville.
For much of the afternoon, Laurie and Susanna engaged in a long text dialogue about when we would arrive and whether Susanna would wait for us or go see her tennis team play their first match of the season. We finally decided she should go to tennis and we would get some food for ourselves and arrive after 8pm. We made our way to a Mexican place Laurie remembered near Susanna’s, Ole’s Guacamole, and had a very satisfactory meal – a spicy fish dish for me and chicken mole for Laurie, washed down with margaritas, chips and guacamole.
We checked in at Casa Susanna to find Riad starting to make dinner for the family. Amila showed up from checking on a neighbor’s cat, then Susanna and Reef arrived. We had a nice couple of hours catching up before turning in for the evening.
Wednesday, March 23 – Asheville
I made few plans for our time in Asheville, intending it as a chance to rest and recuperate a little from our trip and hang out in the hospitality of Susanna and her family. The weather obliged on this Wednesday with a cool, rainy day. For the morning, I caught up on notes for the trip while Laurie caught up on emails. Amila was at her Zigzag school for much of the day, Riad worked on a project at someone’s house somewhere in Asheville, Susanna worked on Galapagos Alternative communications, and Reef worked attentively for several hours on Lego stop motion videos. Mouse and Lolly kept company with Reef and me. It was a nice, quiet, low energy morning…just what we needed at that point.
In the afternoon, Laurie wanted to do some shopping in Asheville so I took her, exploring a part of the downtown I’d never seen. She was on a specific hunt for special yarn loops for Sam, and she found them in a specialty craft store. We had made arrangements to meet the Saidi family for an Escape Room adventure at 5:30, but had time to kill before that so Laurie and I wandered into the Asheville Club bar and became part of nearby apartment building’s happy hour. The residents weren’t quite sure who we were but Laurie struck up a long conversation with one who enthusiastically encouraged her to move into the building.
We met the Saidis at Breakout Games just as a downpour started. Laurie and I had never done a proper Escape Room, just some less than wonderful online ones. The Saidis, however, were enthusiastic masters of the genre. They chose the game Underground Alley, one of the eight available choices. It’s a good thing the Saidis were with us because Laurie and I would have been stumped after the first few clues. The Saidis worked well as a team with everyone cooperating to solve the various clues, with occasional help from the voice of God who was monitoring our progress. Eventually Laurie and I made small contributions and together we solved the puzzle and saved the town with 33 seconds left though we’re pretty sure God took pity and gave us a couple of extra minutes to make sure we finished.
We had dinner at Red Ginger, sharing some very tasty dim sum. The kids enjoyed eating with chopsticks, a novelty for Reef. Back at home, we cracked into Chattanooga Whiskey and enjoyed the rest of the evening.
Thursday, March 24 – Asheville
Susanna fixed us a nice breakfast of eggs, spinach, toast and bacon. She runs a very comfortable bed and breakfast. The weather was better this day and Susanna was eager to get all of us outdoors since she was foregoing a tennis game on our behalf. It had been well advertised by Laurie that I was not a fan of hiking but I would be happy to do a walk, preferably somewhere flat…something of a challenge around Asheville. Around 11am we headed out for a walk/hike that Susanna selected especially for me. It turned out to be a fairly long drive with some bad traffic on the way. We eventually made it past Brevard to Pisgah National Forest. We stopped just off the roadside for Looking Glass Falls where a couple was getting wedding photos in the middle of the stream.
We drove a bit further and parked for a short (3/4 mile) hike — and it was a hike though it was more or less flat — to Moore Cove Falls. There we had a nice picnic lunch of wraps that Susanna prepared. It was very pleasant at the falls though there was no place comfortable (for me) to sit. We stayed for a half hour or so as the kids wandered behind and all around the falls.
Got back about 4pm in time for Susanna (mostly) and Laurie to prep for dinner with Meghan’s family: Rob, Taja and baby Oia. Meghan, the daughter of Laurie’s Norwegian friend, Trudy, had just moved to Asheville with her family. It had been some time since Laurie had seen Meghan or her kids and it took a little time for everyone to warm up to one another, but once Reef and Taja started working on Star Wars drawings together things settled down.
Riad and Susanna laid out a nice grilled dinner of burgers, chicken and veggies. After dinner, we saw some bears and heard turkeys in the back which was cause for much excitement. After Meghan’s family left, we sat by the outdoor fire Riad prepared and played Heads Up for our first time. It was a goofy good time for all and a nice way to end our time in Asheville.
Friday, March 25 – Asheville to Bristol
We bid adieu to the Saidis after one more nice breakfast from Susanna. We headed north toward home with one more music stop on our agenda. Bristol, Tennessee/Virginia, is the home of country music’s “big bang” moment. We were heading to the Birthplace of Country Music Museum to learn more.
Bristol is only 90 minutes north of Asheville on Interstate 26 but we wanted to take a more scenic route on the Blue Ridge Parkway for a good part of the journey. Unfortunately, after only a few miles on the Parkway we learned the road was closed ahead due to downed trees. We backtracked and found our way to I-26 after all. We made it to Bristol in the early afternoon headed over to the museum.
Another Smithsonian affiliate, the Birthplace of Country Music Museum is quite impressive and well laid out. The introductory movie sets the stage, explaining the basics of the 1927 Bristol Sessions organized by Ralph Peer, sessions which featured the first recordings of the Carter Family, Jimmie Rodgers and about a dozen others. The exhibits let you listen to the recordings in some depth; I hadn’t realized there were so many other artists and songs, a total of 76 songs recorded by 19 performers. Five of those songs were from the Carter Family and two from Jimmie Rogers.
One can quibble with the historic significance of the music recorded over those two weeks in 1927, as pointed out by Encyclopedia Virginia. Country or hillbilly music had been popular since at least 1924 and Ralph Peer was playing catch-up for his new bosses at Victor when he brought his recording equipment to Bristol. The templates for new market genres of “country music” and “race records” were already formed, segregating music styles that sprang from the same roots. While the Carter Family and Jimmie Rogers were “discovered” at the Bristol Sessions, it was years of further, more famous recordings and performances that cemented their Hall of Fame status. But these recordings were done in Bristol and Bristol now lays emphatic claim to being country music’s birthplace. So be it. It makes for a good tourist promotion — we wouldn’t have come to town otherwise.
The museum rounds out its displays with a survey of other artists from the region and a nod to the wide expansion of country music in the decades that followed, but there’s not a lot of cohesion to the grab bag of ground it tries to cover. There was a fun special exhibit on the origins of Mountain Dew that was interesting but not very closely tied to the world of music.
The museum is also home to Radio Bristol with a DJ broadcasting live from a glass-walled booth. It was interesting to watch and listen for a while, though there’s no more spinning of disks or playing tapes — just hunts and pecks on a computer keyboard. I downloaded the Radio Bristol app and we enjoyed listening to it on our ride the next day, but I haven’t made it a regular habit. There was also a nice, small concert venue that showed an endless stream of recent performances recorded on site, also available on the museum’s YouTube page.
We felt like we’d covered the museum pretty well and Laurie’s cold was starting to get to her again, so we decided on finding an early dinner in Bristol. I’m pretty sure we opted for the 620 State Restaurant because it was a short walk and the food was an interesting mix of Southern and Asian. I don’t remember exactly what we got but I think firecracker shrimp tacos were involved.
State Street in Bristol straddles the Virginia/Tennessee border which makes a nice gimmick and a photo opportunity that we passed up. We got back in the car and drove a little bit around town but our exploring juices were just about run dry so we headed back to the hotel for an early evening. This road trip had just about run its course.
Saturday, March 26 – Bristol to Home
All that was left for us was a six-hour run up I-81 to get home. Of course, if Google says it’s six hours then it’s actually somewhere between seven or eight hours for me, for some reason. The day started clear but cool, with a front threatening to push through later in the day. Our drive was mostly fine except for several snow squalls that came over the mountains to the west. It was odd to suddenly go from a sunny day to heavy bursts of snow that cut visibility and slowed traffic…then back to sunshine.
We got home in the mid afternoon, more or less on schedule and in time to take Barb to Hot Pot Hero for a promised meal.
Afterword
I hesitated to put the label “Conclusions” on this section, choosing “Afterword” for the time being. I think I need to marinate a while longer before I can claim to arrive at any conclusions.
I’m very glad I had the opportunity to make this trip — glad that Barb let me do it, glad that Laurie was able to join me, glad that we mixed the Road Scholar tour with our own road trip and extra time to visit things beyond the tour, glad that Susanna and family were such hospitable hosts in Asheville for some relaxing family time, and glad that we completed the trip with no particular mishaps. The trip mostly met my expectations in terms of learning more about the roots of American music — I was able to see most of what I wanted to see. It would have been nice to get a little more intimate exposure to actual musicians and music performances but that wasn’t really in the cards or on our itinerary. This was a trip grounded more in history and museums rather than current live performances.
The trip did little to support any grand illusions of “discovering America” or “taking the pulse of flyover country.” We stayed firmly within a tourist bubble and any “real Americans” we spoke with were at best in a service industry related to tourism. We didn’t make any great efforts to break out of that tourist bubble either. That said, I was pleasantly surprised that the parts of Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, North Carolina and Virginia we saw did not feel at all foreign. We saw only a couple of Trump signs on the whole trip, balanced by a couple of Biden bumper stickers here and there. (For that matter, it’s worth noting that the Trump flag that flew for more than a year less than a mile from my house has finally come down. Phew!) There were lots of signs for local elections but none of them struck us as inflammatory or less than civil, nor were there any Confederate flags or other nonsense. What we saw was, for better of worse, pretty much your typical homogenized American sprawl amid a lot of green and pleasant countryside.
I haven’t yet drawn any grand conclusions about the unified sphere of American music. I’ve been exposed to a lot of older music I hadn’t known. I loved the database at the National Museum of African American Music that gave a little bio for each artist, their key songs, who influenced them, who were their peers, and who they in turn influenced. I’d love to have that available online. I’d also love a reference source for who played on what songs — a guide to the session players, studios and producers behind the scenes. The trip has deepened my knowledge and appreciation for American music of multiple genres, the connections between them and their links to locale and history.
The trip has spurred my to listen to a broader range of music and explore more music history. I’ve lately embarked on the podcast “A History of Rock Music in 500 Songs” which I’m finding informative. It should keep me busy for a while — I’m on episode 12. I will keep listening and learning and will let you know when I arrive at any conclusions.
One of the things I was looking forward to in taking this trip was learning more about the ineffable connective tissue that makes music magic. What makes one song or performer connect with me (or anyone) when so many others don’t? It’s some combination of lyrics, stories, musicianship, rhythm, melody, harmony, performer…all of it has to come together in the right alchemy to make a memorable connection. When it does, it can shoot straight to my heart, raise goosebumps and make me weep. What is that?
I have to admit that during the trip itself I didn’t get very far down the road on that question. We saw few actual performances and though we listened to a lot of music it was mostly in snippets, not conducive to moments of transcendence, though I certainly enjoyed learning more of the interconnected relationships among many of my favorite songs, musicians and their historical contexts. However, two concert experiences in proximity to the trip did bring highly emotional moments, among the best musical experiences I’ve enjoyed in many years.
- Just before the trip, my sister and I saw Allison Russell perform in support of her deeply personal and terrific debut album (after 20 years in the business), Outside Child. Her amazing and difficult life story deftly unfolded during the set and built to a happy and joyful present.
- A few weeks after the trip, I saw Molly Tuttle in support of her excellent Crooked Tree album. The high quality musicianship and infectious, relatable songs made for a highly satisfying evening with several goosebump moments.
It’s still very hard for me to put a finger on what makes that magic happen with music. I’m delighted when it does, and this trip fostered a deeper appreciation for the musicians that commit their lives to delivering those moments. There is an alchemy to conjuring all the elements needed and to be open to receive them at the right moment. When it all happens it sparks joy and maybe even rewires a bit of our lives.
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