At the end of July an opportunity to experience one of the mountains oldest singing traditions will take place at Warren Wilson College.  The festivities will take place on July 28th with dinner on the grounds!

Trout season is now in full swing on North Carolina’s hatchery supported waters, attracting local and visiting anglers, and offering a unique social sporting experience with tasty rewards.

North Carolina hosts three species of trout. The only variety native to the state is Brook Trout (Salvelinus fontinalis), a Pleistocene epoch creature which has changed remarkably little over the previous three million years. This species is identified by the white leading edge paired with black markings. Brook Trout thrive in habitats marked by very specific environmental conditions, many of which are currently under threat from development and poor watershed quality. North Carolina recently began a vigorous restocking and diversity program to ensure adequate numbers for the future.

Rainbow Trout (Oncorhychus mykiss), now recognized as the state fish, were originally imported from similar high-altitude streams of California’s Sierra Nevada range during the 1880’s. This species is distinguished by longitudinal red- or pink-colored bands accompanied by black spots. Resilient and capable of surviving in clear or muddy waters, with various oxygen ratios, the Rainbow Trout has become a staple of sport fishing.

Brown Trout (Salmo trutta) arrived from highland areas of Germany and Scotland around 1900. This species exhibits a sable coloration with black, orange or red spots. The Brown Trout may prove as adaptable as its California cousin—the limited scope of release across the state accounts for its smaller numbers. The largest of our three species, Brown Trout easily accommodates a full meal.

North Carolina offers more than 2,000 miles of streams and rivers open for Trout fishing. State hatcheries release over 600,000 individual fish into these waterways each year. Because many stocks are released into the wild in protected and sheltered locations, the casual angler may have some difficulty locating the best points of access. Attempting to locate these spots with regular road maps is frequently a difficult if not impossible prospect. Detailed county-specific or USGS topographic maps are more helpful in this regard. Trout season lasts practically the whole year, an eleven-month span punctuated by a no-fishing restock period during the month of March. You can find additional details here.

A number of vacation rental companies advertise properties convenient to fly-fishing access points. For one example, see Trout Rock.

Prepare beforehand: Make sure to purchase a license (if required) and observe the proper regulations. Also bring proper fishing attire—rubber boots are the footware of choice for fly-fishing, although attaching carpet to old sneakers also provides good traction. This is important because even shallow water packs a strong current and may be dangerous. Make sure to closely monitor your time in the water—mountain streams are notoriously cold even in the summertime, and hypothermia onset can begin within minutes. Many mom-and-pop general stores sell both live and artificial tackle, plus other supplies such as poles and fishing line. Happy angling!

A couple of summer ago, my friend Twyford and I undertook our annual trip to Asheville. We traveled with our friend Dragongirl who was nursing a broken heart and in serious need of the refreshing mountain atmosphere. Lo! and behold, our close friend (and my housemate during those days) Hedgepig was giving a concert in the nearby mountain hamlet of Hot Springs. We decided to make an evening of dinner and music.

The drive from Asheville to Hot Springs is accomplished via either of two roads, US 25 or NC 209–both marked as major highways, although we quickly discovered otherwise on state highway 209. This road follows possibly the most convoluted route possible between Asheville and Hot Springs, temporarily masquerading as the relatively straight “Leicester Highway” before become a snaking asphault monstrosity. Still, NC 209 winds through some beautiful country across Buncombe and Madison Counties, and those untroubled by motion sickness may enjoy the drive. The more direct (and by far straighter) route is US 25 North, which leaves Asheville bound for Newport, Tennessee. This road offers dramatic grades littered with runaway-truck ramps and signs warning “watch for falling rocks” (the subject of a tale once concocted by my mother to entertain a bored 5-year-old son). Those driving too fast through this area frequently “catch air” and occasionally touch down with spectacular results.

Hot mineral springs near the present town have been attracting visitors to the area for hundreds, if not thousands of years. These spring are among the largest and most consistent of a small number of such formation in Eastern North America. Cherokee Indian tradition records that these springs were regarded as beneficial to human circulatory and respiration systems since immediate pre-colombian times, and perhaps even during the golden age of Mississippian culture. European settlers arriving in Western North Carolina were also drawn to the waters and their alleged medicinal properties. The burgeoning town was thus already a popular tourist destination during Revolutionary times and especially during the early republic. The springs continued to draw visitors from across the Eastern seaboard well into the Twentieth Century.

Geological formations may have launched the town financially, but local transport improvements secured its future. Located beneath the towering Unaka Mountains, Hot Springs was a popular launching point for native trade and European migration between North Carolina and territories of the Old Northwest. In colonial times, the Appalachian Mountains presented a formidible challenge to settlement in Tennessee and Kentucky. Travelers prefered forging across rugged territory where mountain obstacles were suddenly broken by relatively low and easily-reached gaps. Such a gap exists near hot springs, and this geological thoroughfare proved extraordinarly popular among idealistic settlers and hardened mountain-men alike.

The construction of Buncombe Turnpike through the area in 1828 brought increased farm and stock traffic (also witnessed by modern street names in nearby towns, such as Weaverville’s Stock Road). This early Federal works project was constructed along the older native and colonial route known as “Old Drover’s Road”. The partially-macadamized thoroughfare linked “Warm Srpings” (now Hot Springs) to directly to Moriston (now Asheville), and beyond to Charlotte and the Atlantic Ocean. Increased traffic of all sorts soon drove the construction of several nationally-recognized hotels, including James Patton’s 350-room Warm Springs Hotel–then the largest structure in Western North Carolina, capable of simultaneously seating 600 dinner guests.

During the American Civil War, the town repeatedly hosted Union cavalry companies acting to disrupting vital Confederate food and supply transport across the Appalachians. These raids were generally well-received by northern-sympathizing citizens of Western North Carolina, with whom confederate goals had little currency. A thriving black market in strategic and contraband goods soon emerged around Warm Springs, where devious merchants took advantage of tariffs and trade irregularities between North Carolina and Tennessee–particularly regarding gunpowder, magnesium, and gold.

Railroad service arrived at Warm Springs in the 1880’s, bringing another surge of visitors–typically wealthy northern industrialists seeking the restorative properties of the warm mineral waters–guests in town were frequently identified as Rockefellers, Vanderbilts, and Carnegies. The discovery of high-temperature springs soon prompted local leaders to change the town name to Hot Springs. Another series of hotels were constructed to accommodate high-profile newcomers drawn to the geological riches, including the Mountain Park Hotel, which boasted heated indoor swimming pools, an 18-hole golf course, access to springs, and a massive ballroom.

Hot Springs suffered a major decline beginning in the early Twentieth Century. Automobiles had begun to capture the American imagination following Horatio Nelson Jackson’s cross-country motoring adventure in 1903. Many towns without adequate improved roads were beyond the range or interest of travelers enamoured with the new technology, and Hot Springs was no exception. Forced to compete with more easily-reached destinations, the town began fading away. The illustrious Mountain Park Hotel suffered several poorly-attended seasons, then proved most useful as housing for German prisoners of war during the First World War. An accidental fire burned the hotel to its foundations in 1920 and the structure was never rebuilt. The town seemed practically doomed.

Curiously, the town which had previously benefitted so much from tourism and increasingly modern transport was now revived through the oldest form of human movement–foot traffic. The Appalachian National Scenic Trail (often called simply the “Appalachian Trail”) opened its first route through New York in 1923. Over the next half-century, the trail extended southward, eventually establishing Hot Springs as a popular trailhead. The unique location on the North Carolina-Tennessee border and astride a large mountain gap encouraged hikers traveling the Appalachian Trail to linger and recover some strength. Although the precise route of the trail was contested for decades, the National Park Service designated a final version in 1971, guaranteeing Hot Springs trailhead status.

Today foot- and automobile-based visitors can enjoy tubing on the French Broad River, moutain biking along special scenic paths, hiking the Appalachian Trail and several other local routes, excellent mountain cuisine, beautiful scenery… and, of course, relaxing among the warm mineral springs. Our trip featured free-range buffalo hamburgers with Russet potato french fries and fresh apple pie, plus enjoyable solo-guitar tunes performed by Hedgepig. Great food, great music, great scenery… excellent town.

On 2 January, my friends and I set out from Charlotte, NC, where we spent the weekend breaking in the New Year, and headed up to the North Carolina Mountains with our sights set on a great weekend of skiing. There were six of us and even though we all had a different skill level, everyone was filled with enthusiasm and excitement as we made the trek up to the mountains. Being an avid skier myself—who hadn’t had the chance to ski in a few years—I was especially excited about getting back out on the slopes. I love having a chance to take in the beauty of the mountains while at the same time flying down the ski slope, feeling the wind in my face.

Shortly after arriving at our cabin, we picked up our skis and headed out to the slopes to try and make use of the remaining daylight, before taking on night skiing later that evening. One of my friends had never skied before, and I must admit when we first got her out on the slopes the scene was pretty comical. We started her off easy on the bunny slope–but eventually she decided for her own safety that she would enroll in a lesson or two at the ski school. Throughout the course of the week she fell more times then we could count, and ended up flying down the mountain backwards on several occasions—but all in all, she managed to pick up the basic skills of skiing within three days. By the end of the week she was having a lot of fun and was very proud to have accomplished the sport.

I myself had a wonderful time as well. I was a little rusty–having not skied for a few years–but after a couple of runs down the mountain I was back to the skier I had been before and challenging myself with new slopes and techniques. I also decided to take some intermediate lessons to learn a few new skills and just to get some feedback on my form and style. I had never taken a lesson before but I was glad I did. The ski instructors were very helpful and it was interesting to learn how to become a better skier.

All in all, our ski trip was a success. Although there was one tiny, little problem—I don’t know if any of you remember, but the week after New Year’s was an unseasonably warm one in North Carolina, even in the mountains. The ski resorts were only able to make snow the first night we were there. Although that snow maintained for a couple of days, by Thursday and Friday of that week we were constantly swerving to avoid various mud puddles and grassy areas on the slopes. I have to say we did not do much skiing towards the end of the week, but that was okay because we used that time to sightsee and to just bond as friends.

One ski resort I would recommend is the Wolf Ridge Ski Resort in Mars Hill, NC. This ski resort is a popular one, located about five miles from I-26 at Exit 3, about 30 miles north of Asheville. The resort holds 82 acres of ski terrain with slopes suiting all levels, from the wary beginner to the seasoned expert. It has 15 slopes, 4 lifts, and offers tubing, an option for the non-skiers in your group. It is a family-oriented resort with plenty of parking and two beautiful ski lodges complete with massive stone fireplaces that accommodate families, walk-ins, and large groups. The Wolf Ridge Ski Resort also boasts of its top-rated snow sports school, which offers group and private lessons which can be useful to both individuals and families. If you are looking for a place to ski near Asheville, Wolf Ridge Ski Resort is a great option.

Another ski resort, located in the Maggie Valley area, is the Cataloochee Ski Area. This resort has 10 slopes, 3 lifts, a rope tow, and a magic carpet lift. It is nestled in the Great Smoky Mountains of North Carolina and is about 40 minutes from Asheville. This resort, like Wolf Ridge, offers slopes for all different skill levels and even has a terrain park complete with ramps, rails, and boxes for the expert skier wanting to practice his tricks. The resort also has a cozy little lodge that is great for warming up and enjoying a nice mug of hot cocoa. If you are in the Maggie Valley area, this ski resort would be a great place for you.

I myself am trying to make it up to the mountains for one more weekend of skiing, before the warmer spring weather sets in, and hopefully I’ll be able to find time in my schedule to plan a trip. To me there is nothing more thrilling then skiing down a freshly coated mountain on a sunny day taking in that fresh mountain air and I know some of you must share my sentiment. Happy skiing!

Asheville has recently enjoyed a renaissance of sorts—motivated in equal parts by its upscale shopping, unbeatable mountain panoramas, art-deco architecture, and red-green political slant. However the unspoken ingredient in this Appalachian success story is something called local color.

Local color is that ramshackle barn decorated with hubcaps and rusty mid-century farm equipment… on the property beside your million-dollar-luxury-ritz-palace. Local color are Hare Krishna devotees chanting and banging tambourines outside your French bistro. Or heavily accented, flannel-clad working-class farmers selling organic tomatoes to yuppie tourists. Or the Picnics Chicken Man.

Picnics Restaurant and Bake Shop is the embodiment of local color. Established on Merrimon Avenue in 1995 by mother-and-son collaborators Minnie and Ron Smith, this local eatery is a favorite for famished UNCA students seeking a hot, off-campus (i.e. tasty) meal. Aside from chicken and barbeque plates, I think the Roast Duck with Ratatouille Provencale sounds delicious. The Great Dame informs me that Picnics also bakes incomparable peach pies. But the star attraction here is the Picnics Chicken Man—a sports-style mascot who wanders the parking lot to greet visitors and waves to passing motorists.

Last October, Grade-A Bureaucrats informed Picnics that the Chicken Man would need to cease and desist. According to city functionary Christine Logan, the Chicken Man operates in contravention of the city sign ordinance. Logan claims that the Chicken Man constitutes a dangerous distraction to motorists passing the restaurant, despite remaining strictly within the Picnics parking area. Apparently similar laws regarding mobile phone use were overlooked. The revelation shocked longtime residents of Asheville, liberal-leaning students, and loyal restaurant patrons—especially considering the innocuous nature of the Chicken Man, whose benevolent mission hardly seems a threat to anyone or anything. Picnics Attorney Wilder Wadford expressed surprise that the city would bring a legal challenge to the mascot, commenting that the Chicken Man “fits no definition (of a sign) that’s set out in the ordinance.”

Why target the Picnics Chicken Man? I would personally propose cultural imperialism on the part of recent transplants from elsewhere—people for whom the mascot is either too provincial, uncouth, or (most likely) unbearably Southern. Strange that other instances have slipped through the crack, such as the obnoxious mascots dressed as mattresses who advertise along Swannanoa River Road, or the ever-present sign-urchins who appear whenever a TJ Maxx outlet closes down. Need we remind our seasonal Floridian residents that their state extols the virtue of an equally ridiculous mascot named Mickey?

Fortunately for everyone involved, the Asheville City Counsel will soon consider an amendment to the sign ordinance which could relieve the pressure on Picnics to stop having fun… a relief for everyone who feared Asheville was about to become a suburb of New Jersey. Chalk up another victory for local color!