Driving the Tail of the Dragon – does 'America's Nürburgring' live up to its reputation?
We flew to Tennessee to find out whether the Tail of the Dragon is among the world’s greatest driving roads.
This Mini JCW seems to have an appetite for small Japanese coupes. The first Toyota GT86 in the convoy peels off into a lay-by on the right to let us through, shortly followed by the second. The third seems to be unmodified and the most humble of the lot – no big wing or shouty exhaust, and a sensible ride height – but it’s being pedalled by someone who clearly knows what they’re doing, and exactly where and how this relentlessly winding road meanders through the forest. The Toyota’s slim body is dancing through direction changes and carrying momentum beautifully, hooking tight lines and kicking up the autumn leaves lining the inside of the corners. It’s a joy to watch.
Neither of us is pushing especially hard, but the cars seem finely balanced, the varied spread of switchbacks and sweepers highlighting their relative strengths. The lighter, more lithe Toyota seems better on the brakes and tips into corners with more speed than the more nose-led JCW can, but it loses its advantage on the exit, where the Mini’s low-down muscle and good traction close the gap. Eventually we’re in a trance-like flow, no traffic in sight as we jink and dive through the heavily cambered twists, the burnt-orange whoosh of the trees filling the periphery. And then we hear the siren…
Our driving has been far from dangerous – swift but sensible speeds, without crossing the solid yellow lines (‘cutting the mustard’ as it’s known around here) – but the blue lights of a police cruiser are fast approaching in the mirror. I do the sensible thing and pull over, but the Toyota driver has other ideas, dropping a gear and bolting down the road. Brave, I think, but it soon dawns that the North Carolina border is a few corners ahead, and the pursuing trooper must be confined to this state, Tennessee. Smart thinking from GT86 man, but it means I might be about to bear the brunt of the law.
It turns out I’d crept over the speed limit by a few clicks while in tow of the Toyota, but thankfully there’s no ticket – just a warning and a few wisecracks from the trooper (he wonders if I’m going to be ‘driving like an ass’ today). After the telling-off, I head gingerly towards the border and eventually catch a glimpse of the GT86 hidden in a car park, shielded by a gaggle of modified cars. As well as being a brilliant place to drive, the Tail of the Dragon is renowned for speed and mischief, and harbours a fascinating car culture. Some even call it America’s Nürburgring.
With 318 corners packed within 11 miles, it’s described as one of the greatest driving roads in the country – potentially the world. Officially known as the US 129, viewed on a map it looks like someone has draped a Super Noodle across the Great Smoky Mountains, so tightly stacked and technical are its hundreds of turns. It’s notorious for driving fun but, like the Nürburgring, crashes too. You’ve probably seen clips on social media of cars falling off or clattering into each other, and Japanese-style Touge runs often take place after dark, sometimes ending in tears.
We’re tackling it in the latest Mini JCW, which should be the ideal car: small and agile enough to nip through the narrow, technical twists, with a decent but not unmanageable level of power. But I’m apprehensive about whether the JCW is the right tool to enjoy the Dragon to the full. This isn’t the first time I’ve driven the F66, and as well as being lumbered with a flat-sounding engine and an automatic gearbox, it was jarring on anything other than smooth roads – so stiff and tightly wound that it threw me out of my seat at times. Mini’s ‘maximum go-kart feel’ tagline seemed an apt description, because on certain roads it felt like it had no suspension at all. It did have its moments, however, feeling as sharp and spritely as a Mini should in the right conditions, and surprisingly playful handling-wise. Here, the JCW will have plenty of time and the perfect road to reveal more of its character.
‘Argh!’ Things don’t start well. Minutes into our hour-long journey to the Dragon, photographer Aston winces from the passenger seat as the JCW thumps over an expansion joint and the rear wheels almost get airborne. Still stiff, then. But soon we’re going faster on a smooth freeway and the Mini feels solid and substantial for a hatch, doing a decent job of passing the miles. It does feel like a fish out of water though. We’re barely filling our lane and everything looks massive through the pillarbox glasshouse, our eyes level with the wheelarches of passing Escalades and Ford Super Dutys. Like jaywalking or choosing not to tip, driving a Mini here makes you feel like an outsider.
Later though, when we pull off the highway and the road starts weaving its way through woodland towards the Great Smoky Mountains, it starts to feel more at home. The roads are decently surfaced, which filters out the disturbances and allows the Mini’s agility to really come to the fore. Roll is well controlled and the quick steering is a great match for the repeated flick-flack sequences that precede the Dragon. For a while the road keeps me busy enough that I’m locked in second gear, so I’m not even missing a manual gearbox that much.
After that initial taste, we arrive at the Dragon proper, and at first it’s not quite the motoring mecca I expected it to be. The car parks near the Tail of the Dragon gift shop, the main hub for visitors, are largely empty, save for a modified Volvo hatchback and a well-used Toyota MR2 Spyder, from which emerges a man bizarrely dressed in a full Sasquatch suit. Aston shoots me a glance that says ‘What the hell are we doing here?’ – I think we were both expecting Nomex and racing gloves rather than fur. It turns out we’ve arrived during one of very few quiet moments at the Dragon, because moments later an R35 Nissan GT‑R, Shelby Mustang and Cayman GT4 howl past in symphony. More convoys follow shortly afterwards. We’re definitely in the right place.
The road begins with a calm, uphill build-up, the Mini’s 228bhp 2-litre four-pot lugging away as we head towards the Tennessee border. And then, literally on the borderline, the surface goes from decently smooth to perfect, with what looks like freshly laid tarmac (clearly Tennessee has more spare cash in its highway budget). The first mile or so has a similar feel to the roads we’ve used to get here, with some breathing space between the long, slow bends, but soon they become tighter and bunched up. The talking stops between Aston and me as corners lead into one another thick and fast, most of them blind. It’s like we’ve been dropped onto the Akina Pass from Initial D.
For my first run I take it smooth and relatively steady, working with the flow of the road. The similarity of the corners means it’s easy to find a rhythm, but equally easy to lose your bearings. Visually, everything is so similar that you’re in a constant state of déjà vu, feeling like you’ve driven the same sections three or four times. We’ve been going at a decent pace but leaving plenty of margin for the unsighted turns, and after a few miles the baby blue Volvo from earlier appears in my mirrors, smelling blood. Solid yellow lines cover the entirety of the Dragon, meaning no overtaking, so I peel into one of the many tarmac pull-offs, the Volvo’s turbo chuffing and whistling as it accelerates past.
Though much of the Dragon looks the same, there are flashpoints that keep you very much on your toes. Steep, Zandvoort-style bankings that compress the car heavily into the road, for example, and deceptively tight hairpins that wind back on themselves with no margin for error – such as one we later learn is called ‘Brake or Bust’. ‘Gravity Cavity’ is another challenge, and probably the most exciting corner on the entire 11-mile stretch. Heading north, it’s a swooping right-hander that corkscrews down into a heavily cambered left with a sharp dip in the middle, which immediately launches the car into another right. In the space of a few seconds you experience g-force in every direction – it’s a shame the Mini’s onboard g-meter doesn’t give vertical readings.
It’s a fantastic, sustained rush from start to finish; all the Dragon is missing is the stunning vistas that characterise many of Europe’s greatest roads. The woodland intensifies the sense of speed and narrows your focus, but there isn’t a dramatic, hauntingly beautiful backdrop to make the drive even more memorable. It’s just trees and more trees. It doesn’t impact the enjoyment you get from the road or your car, but the sense of traversing a spectacular landscape is, in my experience, central to all the truly great drives.
We pause in a lay-by overlooking Calderwood Lake and the surrounding mountains – and that’s when the convoy of GT86s flies by. Even amongst the Porsches, Corvettes and occasional Ferrari or Lamborghini, this group of drivers seems to be having the most fun, wringing their cars out and making a lot of noise without going especially quickly.
Following them, a part of me wishes I was in one of their cars, or perhaps something like a tuned Miata or Civic Type R. The Mini is quick and can hang with the group, but it’s strangely lacking joy. Using the leading Toyotas as a reference, I push harder than before, and the handling is very much led from the front – much more so than in the last JCW I drove, strangely. The rapid-fire corners put such relentless strain on the tyres that the front Continentals overheat and become less willing to bite as every mile passes. The best hot hatches reward you for getting stuck in and always seem to have something extra to give, but this one doesn’t.
Following our brief encounter with the law, we regroup with the Toyotas at the Tail of the Dragon gift shop, opened by Ron and Nancy Johnson, who did much to establish the Dragon’s notoriety. The road was previously known as Deal’s Gap, but in 2000 the couple coined and trademarked the ‘Tail of the Dragon’ name, and subsequently set up a shop and website selling branded T-shirts. Ron sadly passed away last year, but is known by some as ‘Father of the Dragon’ and named many of its corners.
The group of tuned and modified cars gathered here gives the feel of an underground Japanese meet. The GT86s are lined up near a ratty RX‑7 with bolt-on arches, a bewinged S15 Silvia, a track-spec BMW E36 and a Mk1 MX-5 Miata riding low on wide wheels with a bodykit and what sounds like a straight-through exhaust. The owner describes it as ‘nearly stock’, which must mean something different around here.
It turns out some of the group have driven from as far as Florida to sample the roads and log some practice miles before the Dragon’s annual Tougefest. This, by the sounds of it, usually involves balls-to-the-wall driving and more than a few crashes. That’s verified by what’s known as the ‘Tree of Shame’, decorated to the hilt with damaged bodywork and motorcycle parts from various ‘offs’ over the years.
‘It gets crazy,’ says Noah, the owner of the Miata. ‘The best way I can describe it is like Forza Horizon in real life. Everyone’s on the mountain at night, some of us timing ourselves. Five runs going all-out is the maximum I usually do. Last spring we had three crashes in one night, and that’s usually when the police start hovering around. The nature of the road means that if you’re in something small and light like a Miata, you can keep up with C8 Corvettes and Camaros.’ I suspect the Mini isn’t quite their style, but James, the GT86 driver we were following earlier, is impressed. ‘Honestly, I’m surprised that thing stayed with me! I know modern Minis are pretty bulky so that was really impressive.’
On their recommendation we go further afield and explore some of the lesser-known roads surrounding the Dragon, and find ourselves on a more open stretch tracking along a river towards the Fontana Dam. As much as I enjoyed the Dragon, it is nice to take a breather and get out of third gear for the first time in a while, and the fresh landscape is exactly what Aston needs to gather his last remaining images.
It’s a wonderful stretch of road, starting high above the river with fast, flowing corners that gradually descend closer to the water’s edge. But while the JCW is sharp, peppy and agile, it’s still not quite hitting the spot. The engine, for one, doesn’t feel a good match for a small hatch – muscly and flexible but never rewarding in that final rush to the red line. And now that there’s more scope to work through gears, I am starting to miss having three pedals. This seven-speed DCT doesn’t have the sharpest shifts, and working the gears with your hands and feet seems an integral part of driving a hot, frantic Mini. It’s a shame to be denied that.
Now being back on the North Carolina side, the roads are decidedly more bumpy – as we find out through a fast right-hander with an evil hidden compression at the apex. It doesn’t spring us wide, but the rear end does momentarily pogo off the ground in quite dramatic fashion. Some might see the JCW’s tense, boisterous energy as being part of the fun of a hot hatch, but while it can be entertaining, it feels like it’s overcompensating for a lack of real depth. A bit like turning up the sharpness and saturation on a TV to make up for its so-so picture quality, it doesn’t quite work.
We pull up close to the river and there’s blissful silence as I switch the engine off. Nothing but the occasional click of Aston’s Nikon, and some light rustling from the woodland over the road. Moments later this turns into much heavier rustling and movement in the bushes, and then I remember that as well as driving, the Dragon area is notorious for bears. ‘If it’s black, fight back. If it’s brown, lie down. If it’s white, goodnight.’ That’s about all I can recall from an old episode of Real Survival Stories when it comes to bear attacks. Aston wonders whether he can scare it away with his drone, but sensibly bails into the car with me as we head back to civilisation.
We return to Deal’s Gap for a final fill-up, and into the fuel station pulls a modified Subaru Impreza, followed by a tasty Porsche 997 and the Miata from earlier – all three drivers beaming after a run. The Tail of the Dragon isn’t the most spectacular road I’ve ever driven, but it is one of the most relentlessly challenging and addictive to drive. America’s Nürburgring? In how it attracts enthusiasts from every corner of car culture, unified by a love of driving, it earns the title.
