01 THE TALES OF SQUATCH ROCKET
Name’s Squatchy. Folks call me Squatch Rocket when the gravel starts flying. I’m built more like a camp chair than a race bike, I ride a big blue twin, and these are my roads, my favorite stops, and my mostly true stories from the Smokies.
THE LEGEND, ACCORDING TO THE LEGEND
“I don’t chase perfect lines. I chase the kind of day that gets funnier every time you tell it.”
SMOKEY MOUNTAIN 500
The SM500 is the loop that made me Squatch Rocket: roughly 500 miles through North Georgia, East Tennessee, and Western North Carolina, with about seventy percent dirt and gravel and three or four days to get properly lost in the right way.
SQUATCH SAYS: “Call it beginner-friendly if you like. Rain, ruts, and a fully loaded bike may request a recount.”
Georgia
This is where the pavement loosens its collar. Forest roads, creek shadows, and a camp full of riders who will absolutely improve your story for you.
Ride note: settle in, look through the turn, save some biscuits for morning.Tennessee
The gravel gets louder, the river keeps you honest, and Starr Mountain reminds a loaded bike which way gravity works.
Ride note: fuel when you can; weather writes the difficulty rating.North Carolina
Rock, rhododendron, Appalachian gaps, and the kind of evening where everybody smells like campfire and chain lube.
Ride note: never trust a shallow-looking puddle or a quiet Squatch.Routes change. A line on a screen is not permission, a weather report, or a substitute for your own judgment.
BDR COUNTRY
From Gulf sand to Appalachian ridges, the official BDR network now runs straight through my home range—and connects onward from Damascus. Here’s how I see the neighborhood.
≈1,300 miles · 5 states
This one rises from Florida sand, finds its mountain legs, then crosses Tennessee and North Carolina right through my smoky backyard. The Tellico-to-Maggie stretch is 165 miles of rivers, forest roads, gaps, and grins.
My take: the SEBDR is a whole season of stories strapped to one bike. Witt Road is optional. Wet boots are apparently not.Official SEBDR map & updates
350 miles · North Georgia loop
Graded forest road, primitive two-track, creek crossings, and the towns of Ellijay, Dahlonega, Suches, and Helen. It is the right size for a long weekend and the wrong size for clean boots.
My take: compact, punchy, and deeply green. Download the latest track—this forest likes to edit the route.Official BDR-X map & updates
≈1,100 miles · Damascus north
The SEBDR hands you off in Damascus, Virginia. From there, the MABDR follows the Appalachian spine toward Pennsylvania on forest roads and country lanes.
My take: when somebody asks if the ride is over, point north and pretend you never heard them.Official MABDR map & updates
FIELD NOTES
No star ratings here. Stars are for looking at after the fire gets low. These are the spots I’d point you toward when your tank, belly, boots, or soul hits empty.
CAMP · EAT · STAY
Suches, Georgia
The front porch is a story exchange. Creekside tent spots, lodge beds, rider food, and enough tire opinions to last all winter.
CAMP · STAY
Stecoah, North Carolina
An adult-only motorcycle resort with creekside rooms, cabins, bunk space, wagons, and camping. Pull in dusty; nobody blinks.
DRINK
Tellico Plains, Tennessee
A small local brewery near the Cherohala end of town. They do the beer; you handle the food plan and the ride-home plan.
EAT · STAY
Robbinsville, North Carolina
Riverside cabins, lodge rooms, and Tapoco Tavern with a full bar and wood-fired pizza. Fancy enough for clean socks; friendly enough for panniers.
EAT · STAY
Fontana Dam, North Carolina
A full mountain reset: rooms and cabins, dinner at Hazel’s, and early coffee before you point the front wheel at the next ridge.
STOP · STARE
Maggie Valley, North Carolina
A museum full of running American motorcycle history. Give yourself more time than you think. Then add another hour.
Trail towns run on mountain time. Check each stop’s current hours, seasons, reservations, and food service before you point the bike there.
SQUATCHY’S BADGES OF HONOR
Finish the route, fix the flat, spot the bear, survive the creek, or find Squatchy in the wild. These aren’t podiums. They’re stories you can stick on a pannier.
Closed the SM500 loop and still had stories left.
Rode the Smokies stretch of the Southeast BDR.
Three states of mind. One fine Georgia loop.
Took a trail nap. Picked it up. Carried on.
First flat fixed where the signal bars go to die.
Water crossing one; dry socks zero.
Saw a bear. Gave it the whole road.
Spotted the legend before the dust settled.
Had a beer with Squatchy after the kickstands dropped.
Kept it kind, quiet, legal, and on your side.
Honor system. No gate-cutting, no trespassing, no wildlife selfies, no riding after the beer. The story is better when everybody gets home.
TALES FROM SQUATCH ROCKET
The best trail stories begin with confidence, pass briefly through poor judgment, and end with somebody heating dinner on a camp stove.
I told everybody I was checking the soil moisture. The motorcycle told everybody else the truth. We lifted together, laughed harder than necessary, and named the dent after the creek.
The sky turned charcoal, the wind smelled like pennies, and every rider suddenly discovered a deep personal interest in making excellent time. We reached Tellico with rain in our gloves and lightning in the retelling.
It stood across the road like it had reservations. I stopped, gave it room, and waited. The bear left first. That is my official version, and the only one my dignity recognizes.
A NOTE FROM THE WOODS
The Smokies don’t need you to conquer them. They just ask you to show up prepared, ride with respect, spend a little in the trail towns, and leave every road better than you found it.
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