This is an account of my ride through the mountains of western North Carolina and eastern Tennessee on October 25, 2002, on my Kawasaki Vulcan 800A: The Dragon has been tamed, At rest if not quite slain. For I rode him fairly slow, In the rain, solo! Our family planned to attend the Fall Harvest Days at the Western NC Agricultural Center the weekend of October 25th to pull antique tractors.  I came up with a plan to go up on Thursday, stay the night with my mother who lives there, spend Friday riding in the mountains, and meet up with the rest of the family on Friday night.  I especially wanted to go "slay the dragon" at Deals Gap.  The tail of the dragon is an eleven-mile stretch on US 129 between Deals Gap in NC and Tabcat Creek Bridge in TN that contains some 318 curves.  Needless to say, it's a famous ride in the motorcycling community.  Some friends who were going to make the trip with me ended up not being able to go.  But other than the chance of rain and the lack of riding buddies, everything was looking good for my journey to come together.  I was going to do it on a Friday, when the traffic would be light, the temps were cool to mild, and the leaves hadn't even peaked yet.  In my mind that day had turned into some sort of quest-I knew I was going to go it alone if need be.   So, alone, I left my mom's house in Asheville at 7 a. m. that Friday on US 19 headed for Maggie Valley & Cherokee.  It was still dark, and misting rain.  The last I saw her, Mama was shaking her head, mumbling something about "… but we could be shopping!"  The rain stopped after about an hour, and I enjoyed the rural scenery and a few good twisties along #19.  I turned on US 74 near Bryson City, and got up to about 60 mph on the nice four-lane, at which point my homemade map pouch (magnets and a Ziploc bag) flew over my head.  Oh well, I'd sure pondered that thing enough that I knew where I wanted to go.  I picked up Hwy 28, skirting a little of the Fontana Lake area before picking up #143 into Robbinsville.  After gassing up in Robbinsville, the Cherohala Skyway was beckoning.  It was amazing.  It felt as if I were in my own little universe.  I'd go for 15 to 20 minutes without passing another motorist.  The big sweeping curves taken at 45 to 50 mph were great fun.  Still not much color, but I figured I'd see more as I climbed. When I got above 4,500' (the Cherohala ascends to about 5,400') to where the color surely was, it didn't matter, for I was in a cloud so thick that I could only see about 20 feet.  I had to raise my helmet shield, and I was wearing glasses, which were immediately useless, so I was pretty much riding blind.  The yellow line became a fast friend, and after what seemed like forever at 15 to 20 mph, I exited the cloud and fog as I descended down into Tennessee.  Enjoyed some more fast sweepers, then I picked up Hwy 360 near Tellico Plains and headed for US 411.  The only time I got lost on my adventure was when Hwy 360 dead-ended into another road, and there were no indications as to which way to turn to continue on #360.  I turned right, and it didn't really feel right, for the highway mile markers stopped, the road kept getting narrower, and the standard of living more obviously, ah, Appalachian.  When the banjo music started, I did a quick 180 and booked it out of there!  It was pretty country and an interesting detour, but I lost at least 30 minutes. I finally reached Hwy 411, then a quick hop to Hwy 72, and then a right on US 129.  It had started raining again on #72 and was 1 p.m. at this point, so I stopped for lunch at the diner right at the Hwy 72/129 intersection.  Maybe I was just famished, but the burger and fries were mighty tasty.  The light rain stayed with me for the rest of the day. Off to slay the Dragon!  The traffic was very light.  A Tennessee trooper was in front of me for a while, and then he stopped in the middle of the road.  I could tell he wanted me to go around him, so I did, and he escorted me to the state line.  I was surely not approaching the speed limit in the rain, so I guess he was just concerned about having to scrape me off the pavement if I crashed.  I wasn't nervous, but was actually glad he was back there. The Dragon was neat, but would definitely be more fun in dry weather.  Curve after non-stop curve, with very few straight sections.  I'm looking forward to returning one day in better weather. After a stop at Wheeler's for a t-shirt and a gas stop in Robbinsville, I headed south on #129 for Topton.  There I picked up US 19 north and went up through the Nantahala Gorge (beautiful!).  Once I picked up Hwy 74, my plan was to take it to the Blue Ridge Parkway and ride it back to Asheville, but once I got on #74 I was able to cruise along at 65 mph using my throttle lock a good bit.  My right hand appreciated the rest, so I remained on #74 all the way back. My total time was about 11 hours, and I traveled 340 miles.  The Vulcan handled beautifully in the rain.  Usually in the mountains, you'll get behind someone in a car who drives you nuts, going too slow and using the brakes in every curve.  That never happened on my trip, which was fantastic.  And, no bugs!  Being from SC, I really appreciated that.  Before this trip, I'd never been on a bike for more than a few hours at a time, so it's good to know the ole bod can take it.  Thanks to Mike Corbin, my butt was fine; my hands were what worried me.  I have a few plastic joints in my right hand, but they seem to be OK. While writing this, I looked something up in a publication of the NCDOT, NC Scenic Byways, and discovered that Hooper's Bald (elev. 5429'), along the Cherohala Skyway route, was once the site of a private hunting preserve and that wild boars still inhabit the region.  I'm sure glad I didn't know that when I was up there putting along in near zero viz!  It is great to be home now, warm and dry, but I wouldn't trade the experiences of my "big adventure" for anything.  As with another sport I enjoy, cave diving, you enter another zone, or "kick it up a notch", as Emeril would say, when you depend on your gear, your skill, and your wits in order to survive. I'd like to thank Speedy, husband and trailer-builder extraordinaire; ma Kaw, builder of such a super, reliable bike; and my own mom, provider of stunning mountainside accommodations and professional worrier services.