Road Review - Back of the Dragon, Marion to Tazewell
Back of the Dragon store in Tazewell VA
“For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.” — Robert Louis Stevenson, Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes
In 1878, Robert Louis Stevenson set out alone across the Cévennes mountains of southern France with little more than some gear and a stubborn donkey named Modestine. Over twelve days he covered roughly 120 miles on foot, sleeping outside, getting lost, meeting strangers and crossing mountains. There was a destination, sure, but that wasn’t really the point.
Stevenson was interested in the going. The places between places. The freedom that comes from moving through unfamiliar country with nobody else’s schedule to keep. It was on that journey that he wrote, “I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move.”
Nearly 150 years later, I can appreciate the sentiment. I drove almost four hours into southwest Virginia on a Monday morning with no particular interest in visiting Marion or Tazewell. They just happened to sit at opposite ends of a road I’d been hearing about for years. I wasn’t really going to either place. I was going for the 32 miles in between.
That road is the Back of the Dragon.
Named roads have really gained popularity over the last ten years. Everyone wants a little of the magic that Deal’s Gap created with the Tail of the Dragon—a road shrouded in legend that, at its core, has become a backbone of the driving and riding community.
So when I first heard about the Back of the Dragon, my immediate thought was, “Ah, another me-too road trying to capitalize on the Dragon namesake.” Yet somehow, for whatever reason, it kept popping up in my Facebook feed. I figured maybe I’d eventually work it into a busy weekend in eastern Tennessee. A detour. A stop along the way. Certainly not a destination in and of itself.
As I mentioned in my last article, life has just gotten in the way of driving this year. After a week of moves, obligations, and a general sense of busy, I decided I needed a good drive to clear my head and reset. So I picked a Monday, when the rest of the world went back to work—a day when I could have the mountains mostly to myself and my thoughts.
I went through my usual list of escape routes: 50, 33, Seneca, Blackwater Falls. None of them really felt like what I wanted. If I was going to spend the day driving, I wanted to do something new.
And then there it was again on my Facebook feed.
VA-16. Back of the Dragon.
At the entrance of VA 16 waiting on the fog to lift.
A quick bit of research showed me that the starting point in Marion was only about four hours down I-81, well within my time budget. I could hit the road before the rest of the world woke up and be there around first light to see what all the hype was about. A solid enough plan, and an easy opportunity to check another road off my growing bucket list.
The drive down I-81 was anything but peaceful. In fact, I watched two semis collide barely a hundred feet in front of me. Neither driver seemed particularly fazed, but I was left dodging the debris they sent my way. Between that and the heavy fog, I considered turning around more than once and calling the whole thing a loss. I pressed on, though, and a few hours later I was clicking on my right turn signal for the Marion exit.
Much to my displeasure, the mountains were still buried under a thick blanket of fog. Rather than charge up toward Tazewell with barely fifty feet of visibility, I decided breakfast at Hardee’s was the more reasonable choice while I waited for the sun to burn through the haze.
Around 8:30, I decided the fog had cleared enough to make a run. I knew I’d be taking it slower than normal, being in uncharted territory. I eased into the first few turns, making sure the tires had good mechanical grip and getting a feel for the pavement beneath me. Almost immediately, I realized this road had a fantastic flow to it.
As I climbed, I eventually broke through the fog and began picking up the pace. The first stretch is a series of fairly open switchbacks, and the climb is rapid. Despite the steepness, there’s a cadence to it that lets you really feel the car settle into a rhythm. Enough straightaway to utilize the loud pedal, but enough corners to give the brakes a proper workout and really get the suspension loaded into the next. It’s a wonderful balance of acceleration, braking, and cornering that makes the climb an absolute joy.
Eventually, I arrived at Hungry Mother State Park and turned into an empty pull-off, where I was met with one of the most stunning views of southwest Virginia I could have hoped for. The sun pierced the fog hanging in the valley below, its light rolling across the surrounding hills. As a professional photographer, these are the kinds of conditions and vistas you pray to find one day. I took a few minutes to simply stand there in awe of it all.
Needless to say, that view alone had me feeling like the dangerous trek down I-81 was worth it, but there was still plenty more to see. I fired the car back up and headed out onto 16, descending the mountain. The next series of turns were technical in much the same way Route 28 feels coming out of Bryson City. Tight and winding, with very little straightaway between corners. The elevation dropped quickly, and before long I found myself in the next valley.
The view from Hungry Mother State Park overlook.
It opened up into sweeping, rolling corners that wove through cattle fields, farmland, and wooded stretches. The level of complexity changed, but the constant flow didn't. A lot of roads simply don't flow this way. There's always some weird, off-kilter turn that breaks the rhythm and forces you to reset. Not here. Every single curve seems like it was built with purpose.
I began climbing the next mountain, and the series of curves felt remarkably similar to the first. Long straights, tight switchbacks, and views that stretched for miles as the morning sunlight cut through what remained of the fog. Everywhere I looked, there was something worth seeing. Distant ridgelines, rolling hills, and valleys that seemed to go on forever. Eastern Tennessee is beautiful in its own right, and I've spent enough time driving through it to appreciate that. But southwest Virginia has a character all its own. It's a different kind of mountain country, and damn, is it a looker.
At this point, I was in the zone, riding the high that only drives like this can give you. I hadn't hit a single stitch of traffic. VA-16 was all mine that morning. These are the runs we dream about but rarely ever get in practice. The car was performing perfectly, the morning air was crisp and cool, and I honestly don't think I could have asked for much better.
Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I rounded a corner to find kudzu vines lacing the guardrails and trees. The famous Kudzu Corner.
To explain it wouldn't really do it justice, but I'll try my best. The entire mountainside is draped in these kudzu vines, and below it sits a valley that looks like something straight out of a Thomas Kinkade painting. On this particular morning, with fog rolling off the hillsides and rays of sunlight breaking through, it was the chef's kiss. This is the stuff you see in movies. I pulled the car into a nearby pull-off and just sat there, taking it all in.
If you've ever done this crazy backroad driving stuff, you know the moment. All the chaos and excitement turn off like a light switch when you find that overlook. You remember that even though the drive itself is important, sometimes those moments of quiet mean everything. Maybe you feel closer to God, maybe you just feel peace, but you know you're somewhere you were supposed to be in that moment.
I think that's truly why I keep chasing this high.
Kudzu Corner Overlook
After a few minutes, I decided it was time to press on and make my way toward the end of 16 and Tazewell. The last few miles chill out considerably, but that flow remains. I wanted to check out the store and meet the folks behind this whole thing. It was fairly empty when I arrived, so I pulled the car in front of the dragon statue and snapped a quick photo before heading inside.
What the folks have built here is something truly special. Not only have they put together a great little merch shop, but the walls are covered in photos, memorabilia, and all sorts of cool stuff to look at. Though I was too early to experience it, they've also got a full restaurant and bar. I imagine it's a pretty great hangout spot on busier days. I was definitely impressed.
I grabbed a poker chip and a sticker to add to my ever-growing windshield collection. I told the lady behind the counter how impressed I was with the road and that I'd definitely be back. She was even nice enough to show me a few other nearby drives on the Freeman map they had hanging on the wall.
I walked back outside just in time to see a bright red NA Miata pull in. The gentleman who hopped out introduced himself as Seran, and he was on his way to eastern Tennessee for the first time, all the way from Ontario, Canada. Good to know I'm not the only crazy person who thinks cross-country touring in a sports car is a good idea. Props to him for fitting everything he needed into that little Miata and making the drive.
Seran, my friend, if you're reading this, I hope the rest of your trip has been epic. Send us some shots, and we'll do a feature on your drive.
Seran’s Miata in front of the store.
From there, I decided to head back up to Kudzu Corner and grab a few drone shots. Shortly after I pulled in, a group of Harley guys arrived at the same overlook, coming from Marion. One of the gentlemen asked if they were on the Back of the Dragon, and I confirmed they were indeed. Apparently, they'd just come up from the Snake, US-421.
We talked for a few minutes about different roads and how great the one we'd just traveled was. I offered to snap a picture of their group together before getting back to the drone.
It was another good reminder that whether we're on two wheels or four, we're all out here chasing the same thing. These roads belong to all of us, and with that comes a shared responsibility for their stewardship. Keeping the driving and riding communities working together, respecting each other, and looking after the roads we love is how we make sure they're here for the next generation to enjoy.
After a few minutes of flying, I watched a dually pulling a trailer head back toward Marion. It occurred to me that spending the next hour following that truck south through all those turns wasn't exactly the drive I was chasing. With my time budget in mind, I decided to head back toward Tazewell and look for some roads to the north that would put me closer to home.
Kudzu Corne from the air.
But that story is for the next article.
So, what's my final verdict?
I'll put it like this. I've driven a lot of great, famous roads up and down the East Coast, and frankly, this one is in my top five. If you'd told me the day before that I'd be saying that, I don't know that I would've believed you. But here we are.
Back of the Dragon lives up to the hype and it earns the right to be called a Dragon.
If you've been on the fence about whether or not this one's worth the drive, I can promise you it is. Quit thinking about it. Pick a random weekday, forget about your responsibilities for a while, and point your car toward southwest Virginia.
There's still more to this story, though. What started as a simple day trip turned into something I hadn't quite expected. I'll be sharing a larger reflection on the day, the miles, and everything in between later this week.
I guess old Robert Louis Stevenson had it figured out all those years ago. Sometimes the best reason to go somewhere is simply to go.
Good drives. Good vibes. One tribe.