Mabry Mill, Dan Meadows, Virginia
The alembic pot is located down the hill next to the stream, mounted on a stone oven. The copper tube leading to the cooling barrel is verdigris green. The wooden pipe that carried water to cool the steaming moonshine is green with moss, but the mash barrels look almost new. Once, the US government went to great lengths to destroy stills like this. Now, they are paying to maintain this “historic” still.
I take a photo of the still and the sign describing the whiskey-making process. I joke about stealing the governments moonshine recipe. “Let me know how that works out for you,” the park ranger replies, smiling.
I’m at Mabry Mill, at mile marker 176 on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Mabry’s Moonlight Still is one of many exhibits intended to give a snapshot of rural Virginia life in the early 20th century. Exhibits include the famous mill and sawmill, plus the carter’s shop, blacksmith shop, restored cabins and more. In addition to the historical exhibits, there is a gift shop and restaurant. The restaurant is famous for its buckwheat pancakes, but if you want a real treat try their “cakes and barbecue” for lunch.
During the season from May to October, park volunteers offer demonstrations of “country skills” such as soap and molasses making. Twice a year, a visitor can see the mill in operation. Gray Linville, today’s volunteer at the grist mill, knowingly talks about the mill’s inner secrets: “All you need to get everything running (the lathe, jig saw, tongue and groove mill, and sawmill) are new belts, a couple of gears and some grease.” For someone addicted to the smell of chopped wood like me, my imagination took over the description of him immediately. In my mind’s eye I could see the belts turning, hear the saw blades biting into the wood, and smell the sweet and sour smell of freshly cut wood. Grays’ enthusiasm for the mill made me want to roll up my sleeves, grab a board, and start cutting.
Demonstrations of ‘country skills’ leave the visitor to Mabry Mill with a romantic notion of mountain life in the early 20th century. The truth is that the Mabrys and their neighbors were cut off from most commercial sources of supply, and if something was needed they usually had to do it themselves or do without. If something broke, they fixed it themselves and had to find a local source for hardware and parts. Do you need some nails? Ed Mabry would do them for you. Do you need a wheel for your car? Ed Mabry would make you one. Do you need wood to build a house? See Ed. Mabry’s place was a mountain version of Lowes Home Center.
The independent and self-sufficient nature of the early Scotch-Irish settlers is still evident in the people of the Blue Ridge Mountains today. Sufficient paved roads and electricity didn’t come until after World War II, so people here grew up looking after their own needs. If something broke, you fixed it yourself or with a neighbor. My neighbors, Kenneth Dalton and David Terry, seem to be able to fix anything. Compare his skill set to my Washington, DC neighbor, who claimed that a properly conjured torrent of profanity and a quick swing with a wrench could fix almost anything.
Mabry Mill is more than just a scenic stop along the Parkway. It is a testament to the ingenuity and resourcefulness of the men and women of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It’s also a good place for buckwheat and barbecue pies.