Higher Calling-Part Three

Roll On Don

Backroads and mountain roads, rolling on 151 about a quarter of the way up the Allegheny Mountains. With each hairpin curve, we unwind and remember less of where we had been than where we were. Brother Don and I are under a spell of sorts getting lost with the welcome unknown. We are on a higher calling.

We were on a mission heading south past Roanoke to Smith Mountain Lake and a cabin in the woods. This was where Uncle Kenneth was living and dealing with cancer. Aunt Mary was by his side and he was facing the inevitable bravely. This was a return trip and it felt right.

We ditched the big I-81 just after Harrisonburg and took Rt 33 clear through the mountain to the other side. Got off at 340 and forgot about numbers after that. It was all about making sure we were in unfamiliar territory. Lot of kinfolk in southern Virginia, so we had been up and down the main routes a million times.

For this road trip, we packed a few essentials, rolled down the window and threw caution to the wind. Stopped at a four-corner town for gas and a sandwich. Much obliged and touched the brim of our hats for respect before we moved on. 

Picked up 151 outside of Afton, near Waynesboro. This winding road parallels Skyline Drive and snakes through Nellysford, Roseland, Piney River before it dead ends in Amherst. We found out later the length of the road was only about 35 miles. With patches of fog throughout the ride, the magic set in. With sharp curves and plenty of deer, we know we are locked in, right where we want to be. Thirty-five miles felt like days.

Coming around one sharp curve, we saw a pull off. We got out to stretch our legs, let nature take its course. Side of the road, high on the mountain, we took in the view. Inside the truck, a brand new song was coming off the radio…Bob Dylan was singing something about Dignity. This ball of fire of a song spoke to us on many levels and our thoughts turned to Kenneth. Without hesitation, we turned up the volume, opened the doors wide and let the deer listen in.

Fat man lookin’ in a blade of steel
Thin man lookin’ at his last meal
Hollow man lookin’ in a cottonfield
For dignity

Wise man lookin’ in a blade of grass
Young man lookin’ in the shadows that pass
Poor man lookin’ through painted glass
For dignity 

lyrics by Bob Dylan © 1994

Right there on the mountain, as chords on the song changed, with darkness settling in, we felt the higher calling. We knew this one was a moment to bottle up. We did and kept rolling. At some point, we came to the road’s end in Amherst on this side of Lynchburg. We headed on south.