The Blue Ridge Parkway: Mayhem, Mountains and Madness (History Rides USA Book 1)

469 miles. 26 tunnels. 50,000 feet of climbing.
It sounded like a good idea at the time.

The Blue Ridge Parkway runs for 469 miles through the Appalachian Mountains, from Virginia to North Carolina. It’s often described as America’s most scenic road — a gentle, meandering drive through endless mountain views, historic landmarks, and carefully placed overlooks.

This is slightly misleading.

Because what that description doesn’t mention is that it also climbs. A lot. Around 50,000 feet of it, in fact. Which is roughly the equivalent of cycling up Everest. Twice. For fun.

It also doesn’t mention the stories.

The kind that tend to get left out of the brochures.
Civil War legends. Forgotten characters. Ghostly sightings in the woods.
A man who somehow managed to have the war begin in his front yard and end in his own living room.
America’s most decorated war hero.
And something called the Snallygaster, which nobody seems especially keen to explain properly.

This was supposed to be a straightforward trip. A steady ride through the mountains, taking in the scenery, learning a bit of history, and generally having a good time.

It starts with a missing bicycle, which is not ideal when your entire plan depends on it. Then there’s a man named Chuck, a stack of pancakes, and a lift to the start that probably should have been the first sign that none of this was going to go to plan.

From there, it becomes one of those trips where nothing goes spectacularly wrong… until it does.

Climbs that go on longer than seems reasonable.
A bike that is slowly disintegrating.
Two deer appearing in the road at exactly the wrong moment.

At one point, finding a toilet becomes the main objective for a worrying amount of time.

And then there are the people you meet.

Like the man who tells me, with complete confidence, that ticks were engineered by the CIA.

By this stage, I’m not entirely in a position to argue.

Out on the Parkway, you’re never really alone. There’s always something moving in the trees or wandering into the road at the worst possible moment — deer, snakes, wild turkeys… and the occasional reminder that bears also live here.

Somewhere along the way, it stops being about the plan and becomes about getting through the day with a functioning bike, enough snacks, and a vague sense of direction.

It’s a travel memoir about cycling the Blue Ridge Parkway the hard way — with mountains, mishaps, untold history, and the slow realisation that a “good idea” can unravel surprisingly quickly.

If you’ve ever set out to do something sensible and watched it drift quietly in another direction…

You’ll probably recognise this.