Four days. A long trailer haul south. And then 318 curves in 11 miles — the most famous stretch of asphalt in America. If you ride, you already know the road: US 129, the Tail of the Dragon.
Day 1:
We left Toronto early on June 1st with the bikes loaded in the trailer. The Dragon sits down in the southeast corner of Tennessee, on the border with North Carolina, and there isn’t a fast way to get there from Ontario — you just point the truck south and start eating miles.
The first day was all about logistics: fuel stops, swapping drivers, stretching legs at the rest areas. It’s funny how a trip to ride the best road in America starts with the most boring driving in America — straight interstate through Ohio and Kentucky.
We rolled into our base in the early evening. The hills around Deals Gap already feel different — low green mountains, narrow valleys, and roads that start twisting the second you leave the parking lot. Slept well. Tomorrow was the real reason we were down here.
Day 2:
318 curves. 11 miles. No intersections, no driveways, no houses — just pure, relentless asphalt snaking between Deals Gap, NC and Tabcat, TN. That’s the Dragon. It’s been called the best motorcycling road in the world for a reason, and as soon as you drop the bike off the trailer and roll up to the starting stretch, you understand why people drive thousands of miles to ride it.
First run through, I took it easy. You hear the stories — the Tree of Shame at the Deals Gap Resort is covered in broken plastic from bikes that didn’t make it — and a 900-pound Victory Cross Country is not a sportbike. The turns come at you in sequences, one feeding into the next, some tightening mid-corner in ways that’ll catch you out if you’re not reading the road.
By the third or fourth pass, you start to find a rhythm. You stop fighting the bike and start flowing with the corners. That’s when the Dragon really opens up. The professional photographers from Killboy are stationed along the route catching everyone mid-lean, and you start to feel like you’re actually riding the thing properly instead of just surviving it.
We ran the Dragon over and over until the light started to fade. By the end of the day my hands were tired, my grin was permanent, and I understood exactly why people put this road on their bucket list.
Day 3:
You can’t just ride the Dragon and leave. This whole corner of the Smokies is stitched together with roads that would be legendary anywhere else — they just happen to live in the shadow of their famous neighbor. Day 3 we went looking for them.
The Cherohala Skyway is a 43-mile scenic ride through the Cherokee and Nantahala national forests. It has none of the technical intensity of the Dragon — but it has sweeping elevation changes, long open corners, and overlooks that make you want to stop every five minutes. After a day of white-knuckle tight stuff, it felt like riding music.
We chased the light back down into the valleys in the late afternoon, stopping for gas and coffee at a little roadside place where every customer was on two wheels. That’s the thing about this corner of the country — everyone you meet is a rider, and every conversation starts with where are you from and what are you on.
Day 4:
The last morning is always bittersweet. You wake up knowing the bikes are going back in the trailer today, and you’re about to trade mountain switchbacks for 800 miles of interstate.
We loaded up, pointed the truck north, and started the long haul back to Toronto. You spend the whole drive home replaying corners in your head. That’s how you know it was a good trip.
Would I ride the Dragon again? I already have a date in my calendar. If you haven’t done it yet, stop reading blogs and go. You’ll understand the second your tires hit that first curve.