The Mast Farm in Valle Crucis, North Carolina, is a stunningly pretty venue to plan a trip around. Located in the Appalachian Mountains near Banner Elk and Boone, it is surrounded by terrific country roads and beautiful scenery that helps to define a very special part of the Old North State. Going back in time, this area was like a magnet attracting immigrants from places like Scotland and Cornwall to a new home that was reminiscent of the ones they left behind.
Sadly, some of the mountain towns of North Carolina were devastated by the impact from Hurricane Helene in 2024. The surprise storm caused immediate heartbreak to local residents which was then compounded by the echoing economic impact of declining tourism and the loss of local resources. We can be resilient people, however, and the recovery is underway. Part of the impetus for that comes from entrepreneurial business owners striving to make lemonade from lemons. Which is the origin of this adventure’s story.
In an effort to drive new business, the Mast Farm staff began reaching out to motorsports clubs in the region encouraging visits to drink in the sights, the sounds, and the pleasures of mountain towns. A plan to make such a trip resulted. It is a perfect place to target for a vintage BMW adventure.
As the plan emerged, we also had the good fortune to have a very similar conversation with the owners of the Piccione Vineyards in the town of Ronda. An outreach from the owner confirmed that this would be a terrific stop along the way for our mountain adventure.
Recently, we had the good fortune of touring the West Country of England. This includes Cornwall, a beautiful land that is at once remote, sparsely populated, and more than a little bit reminiscent of North Carolina.
Cornish miners were renowned for their bravery, engineering expertise, and ability to create wealth from extractive industries. When the mines in Cornwall were played out, one of the places that they moved to was the Old North State. In fact, there’s an old proverb that says, “Wherever there is a hole in the earth, you will find a Cornishman at the bottom.” It refers to the 19th-century diaspora when highly skilled Cornish tin and copper miners traveled globally, driving the hard rock mining industry in places like The Blue Ridge Mountain region. One example is that they were critical players in the region’s Gold Rush of 1849. While on this trip we had a chance to stay at a place called Bovey Castle in Devon.
The “castle” was actually a country estate converted into a hotel in recent times, but it has a history that has a surprising parallel to the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, which is actually a few years older. In both instances the homes as constructed had surprisingly short lives as a house, but were quickly converted to other purposes which extended their utility well into the 21st century. Both are remarkable places to visit and should be part of an adventure in their respective areas.
While in the West Country we sadly didn’t have access to a motorbike. We did, however, for a time have access to a Morgan. These are hand-built sports cars that come from the same factory, in the Malvern Hills, that has produced every one since 1909. Some came as three-wheelers with vee-twin motorcycle engines, while others are four-wheelers. In both cases, they are open air affairs which offer minimal protection for the pilots. Side skirts (windows) are not part of the experience, for example. In the factory store Belstaff-style jackets are available for purchase. As those of a certain age will recall, these were the best foul weather riding jackets on the planet 50 years ago, with their wax infused cotton possessing waterproof characteristics reminiscent of a penguin. Why would you need one of these in a Morgan? When the weather is wet, and the top is down, the experience is reminiscent of being astride a classic BMW motorcycle. You are one with the environment.
Which gets us back to North Carolina. There won’t be a Morgan involved in the upcoming trip to Mast Farm but there will be a classic BMW. The route is now set, which will provide a great opportunity to cross the Piedmont and rise into the mountain region. On a BMW that has been rolling for a half century already, the preparation effort is half the fun.
This particular R90S dates to 1974. It is a European market bike, confirmed by the serial number, and was originally sold to someone in West Germany. Later it was shipped to San Francisco where some unfortunate fate befell her. It was left in the back of a BMW shop in The Bay Area and was picked over for parts. Later, with the shop closing, the carcass was picked up by someone who set about restoring her to former glory. The restoration process included converting to a 1976 format, including the color (Daytona Orange), switch gear, and instruments. The problematic transmission from the birth year was replaced with an outstanding gear box from 1977. To some this is a Frankenbike, to others it is a piece of rolling artwork. I am in the latter camp.
As the trip to Mast Farm was planned, I realized I had gotten a bit behind on some maintenance items. Catchup started with addressing the instrument lights which were decidedly poor. A Katdash unit which leverages LED technology, made a brilliant difference Then there was the matter of the speedometer.
While it was perfectly capable as a speedo, the odometer had gone AWOL a while back. This being a West German market bike, it sported a unit reading in KPH. The math wasn’t hard to figure out but I managed to strike gold with a BMW parts shop in Shelton, Connecticut, had a new old-stock unit which they sold for not much more than a repair. The new unit slipped in after the new lighting set up, and we were off to the races. One interesting problem, he needle on the tach is now noticeably sun faded. Somehow, I think I can live with that.
Speaking of faded, my favorite black and red riding jacket and gloves are now noticeably presenting as gray and pink. Somehow, I think I can live with that too, although perhaps I should reconsider the idea of acquiring a vintage Belstaff jacket after all.
The R90S is a unique machine in the BMW lineup. It was the top-of-the-line bike from Bavaria during its years of production (1974-76). It was a sports-touring machine from the start but easily transitioned into a racing role in many venues. This one is a pure touring machine, but I’ve learned that the high-performance origin story is only a twist of the throttle away. The most obvious part of this is the very Italian, Dell ‘Orto carbs that it shared with Ducati and Moto Guzzi offerings from the era.
With a nod to Tom Petty, I find myself learning to fly again with this machine, albeit in two dimensions. Other bikes I’ve had were more or less happy to be allowed to spin relatively slowly. Not this one. While getting acquainted with her, I remembered that 50 years ago my father, a former USAF mechanic, had lectured me to avoid “lugging” engines. Keeping them spinning was his mantra. That lesson faded from memory. Computerization on vehicles makes stuff too easy. Point and shoot can be a thing, since the computer will take care of the hard stuff.
It finally dawned on me that the R90S requires some of the lessons I learned, then forgot, all those years ago. She’s always a blast to ride, but it is easy to roll through the gearbox quickly and get planted in the top cog too soon. Allowing it to loaf is just a bad idea. Keeping the revs up above 4k, however, ensures that the motivational magic is close at hand. Rewarded with this revelation, I’ve been racking up the miles and getting ready for a trip to the Mast Farm area.
As a case in point, I recently headed out at dawn to beat the heat of the day. No traffic, pleasant temperatures, a chance to visit with Mother Nature. The gigantic turtle making his way across the road was entertaining. The vulture that buzzed me several times seemed puzzled by the orange beast. At my end-of-ride fuel stop, I found that a ladybug had hitched a ride, snuggled up next to the tach. Clearly, this was a good luck omen.
The Mast Farm was built in 1810, long before Bovey Castle, the Biltmore Estate or, for that matter, the R90S. It represents a perfect place to use as a base of operations for touring the Blue Ridge region while reflecting on the shared beauty, and history, between North Carolina and Cornwall.
Almost time to saddle up! More on the outcome of the trip soon.
