Smoky Mountain Living, August 2016 by Smoky Mountain News

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING

PERFECT CORN BREAD | CHOW-CHOW TRADITIONS | GRANDFATHER MOUNTAIN AUGUST/SEPTEMBER 2016

Celebrating Southern Appalachians THE

ADVENTURE GUIDES | OLA BELLE REED | GRANDFATHER MOUNTAIN | CHEROKEE FOOTHILLS HIGHWAY

Adventure is Calling!

AUGUST/SEPTEMBER 2016 • VOL. 16 • NO. 4

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Ola Belle Reed’s Legacy of Blue Ridge Music

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Contents

FEATU RE STO RIES

THE XX FACTOR The mountains drive these women to extremes—climbing the steepest rock faces, paddling the fastest rapids, biking the most gnarled trails. But what really motivates them is sharing their gifts with outdoors enthusiasts looking for a new challenge. BY CONSTANCE E. RICHARDS

PAGE

OLA BELLE REED In this book excerpt, the late Appalachian folk singer, songwriter, and banjo player reﬂects on her upbringing in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Ashe County, North Carolina. BY HENRY GLASSIE

PAGE

GRANDFATHER’S KEEPER Learn about North Carolina’s iconic Grandfather Mountain from the words of one of the men who knows it best— Randy Johnson, author of a new deﬁnitive guide to its history, hiking, and photography. PAGE

{

}

Human. Nature.

Seems like we’re all drawn to nature. And whether it’s childlike wonder or an adult sense of discovery, you’ll ﬁnd it here, in abundance. w w w. g ra n d f a t h e r. c o m

GRANDFATHER® MOUNTAIN WONDERS NEVER CEASE

Contents

SWEET APPALACHIA

DEPA RTME N TS

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Comforts for the mountain soul, from a snapshot of 1930s life in Cherokee and a literary take on Depression-era Appalachia to the perfect wedge of corn bread and jar of chow-chow. Plus: tips to prime your garden for fall and a musical collaboration that resounds with Asheville spirit.

MOUNTAIN EXPLORER

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Must-dos as summer winds down in the Smokies: Dance with strangers (or at least tap your toes) to old-time music. Take a camping trip at all costs. Contemplate the possibility of cougars lurking in the woods or the age-old tradition of shape-note singing. Jump in the car and discover your new favorite pocket of wilderness in Tennessee, small town in Georgia, or scenic byway in the South Carolina foothills.

FROM THE MANAGING EDITOR . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7

ON THE COVER

CROSSWORD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

Mountain biking guide Eva Surls leads a trail ride in DuPont State Recreational Forest. PHOTO BY TIM KOERBER

AT THE PARK . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12

CONNECT WITH US. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10 MEET OUR CONTRIBUTORS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 PHOTO ESSAY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 STORIES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80

Good Living 4

Southern Appalachian Mountains Gallery Guide . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44 Select Lodging . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 â&#x20AC;¢ ISSUE 4

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SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

FROM THE MANAGING EDITOR Community

Publisher/Editor . . . . . . . . . . . Scott McLeod scott@smliv.com General Manager . . . . . . . . . Greg Boothroyd ads@smliv.com Sales Manager . . . . . . . . . . . Hylah Birenbaum hylah@smliv.com Managing Editor . . . . . . . . . Katie Knorovsky editor@smliv.com Art Director . . . . . . . . . . . Travis Bumgardner travis@smliv.com Graphics . . . . . . . Micah McClure, Emily Moss Finance & Admin. . . . . . . Amanda Singletary Sales . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Greg Boothroyd, Whitney Burton, Amanda Bradley Distribution . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Scott Collier Contributing Writers . . . . Olwen Claiborne, Ashley English, Henry Glassie, Don Hendershot, Holly Kays, M. Linda Lee, Carroll McMahan, Jeff Minick, Marvin Newman, Jen Nathan Orris, Tim Osment, Constance E. Richards, Fred Sauceman, Chris Smith Contributing Photographers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Leigh Ann Browning, Terri Campbell, Angelica Conde, Jo Harris, Randy Johnson, Holly Kays, Tim Koerber, Scott Martin, Jamie Matzko, Carroll McMahan, Vonda B. Magill, John Northrup, Carla Passmore, Stacy Pierson, Chris Port, Gary Pinholster, Meg Reilley, Mark Roberts, Paul Villacort Contributing Illustrators . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Mandy Newham-Cobb Smoky Mountain Living has made every effort to ensure listings and information are accurate and assumes no liability for errors or omissions. For advertising information, contact Hylah Birenbaum at 866.452.2251 or hylah@smliv.com. For editorial inquiries, contact Katie Knorovsky at katie@smliv.com. Smoky Mountain Living assumes no responsibility for unsolicited manuscripts or photographs. Queries should be sent to Katie Knorovsky at katie@smliv.com. ©2016. All rights reserved. No portion of this magazine may be reprinted without the express, written consent of the publisher. Smoky Mountain Living is published bimonthly (Dec/Jan, Feb/Mar, Apr/May, Jun/Jul, Aug/Sep, Oct/Nov) by SM Living, LLC, 144 Montgomery Street, Waynesville, NC 28786. Periodical Postage paid at Waynesville, N.C., and additional mailing offices. POSTMASTER: please send address changes to Smoky Mountain Living, PO Box 629, Waynesville, NC 28786.

SECOND STREET PHOTOGRAPHY

VOL. 16 • NUMBER 4

One picture-perfect October afternoon, I met a group of strangers at a farm pasture in the Hickory Nut Gorge near Fairview, North Carolina. We piled into a couple of all-terrain SUVs, forded a rocky stream, and parked at a trailhead on private land. From there we trudged a mile and a half up to a mountain bald with 360-degree views of the surrounding peaks. Once we’d caught our breath, we unrolled our yoga mats, and our guru for the day led us through a blissful practice of stretches and balances. Over the course of the day, I made a new friend, learned about land easement projects of the Southern Appalachian Highlands Conservancy (the host of the hike), and refreshed my body in a stunning setting that I couldn’t have accessed on my own. I’m sorry to admit that the experience was an outlier for me. Like many folks here in Southern Appalachia, I’m used to doing things my own way. Independent, self-reliant, stubborn—whatever you call it, I prefer to call the shots. I plot my hikes, set my own pace, decide when and where to pull out the trail snacks. And, for better or worse, I tend to have a pretty good idea of what to expect when I head into the woods. It’s a different story when I travel, especially in other countries. I still do my own careful research, sometimes meticulously planning each step in a new city. But when it comes to exploring wilderness in foreign places, more often than not I rely on locals to lead me. How else would I have found myself napping in a hammock, sated from a home-cooked lunch, wine, and cross-cultural companionship following a morning of kayaking through Argentina’s Tigre Delta? Or bumping along a remote dirt path in a rickety truck to discover the indigenous birds and plants of coastal Mexico? The beauty of letting someone else plan the adventure lies in relinquishing that control—allowing for the sense of wonder that’s at the heart of why we delve into the wilderness in the first place. I had never done yoga on a mountain before that sunny fall day, but the serenity of the experience left me wondering why not. In a similar vein, becoming a mom last fall transformed daily life into one unpredictable adventure. Like a tourist in an unknown land, I have found myself leaning heavily on the knowledge of others. Navigating the world of conflicting baby advice has taught me that the best experts provide the framework to help you figure out your own approach—and otherwise stay out of your way. The same is true with adventure guides, whether they’re helping people maneuver woods, whitewater, or rocks. The top-notch guides featured in this issue strike that delicate balance between teaching the foundation of Puzzle is on page 9. a sport—and helping would-be adventurers find their own paths forward. Perhaps it’s no coincidence that all the guides we selected are female. Maybe women possess an instinct for helping others achieve their all. I’m not sure. What I do know is that women guides don’t always get the respect they deserve in the male-dominated outdoor sports industry. What’s more, our research into the region’s top guides (of any gender) kept surfacing amazing stories of women at the top of their game who also excel at inspiring others. And so, like a coach who helps you uncover a talent that’s just below the surface, we decided to shine a spotlight where it belongs.

Crossword answers

— Katie Knorovsky, managing editor WWW.SMLIV.COM

WNC Garlic Fest e SA AV VE THE TH DATE: T Oct 1, 2016

Octopus Garden

The

SMOKE SHOP

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SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

EQUAL HOUSING

OPPORTUNITY

ACROSS THE MOUNTAIN Crossword

1 Climbing coach who works Southern Appalachia, two words 6 Prominent rock on a hill 8 “You send ___” Sam Cooke 9 Doc for a lab 10 Large rocks 14 Enjoy a vista 15 Feature of a skunk 17 North Carolina paddling coach, ___ Sontheimer 19 “The” in Spanish, ___ montanas 20 Cheered on 22 Traveled on snow 24 Put into service 25 Smokies folk singer who wrote “High on a Mountain,” two words 28 Like some deer 30 Ascend 32 Mountain ______ 35 Lamprey or conger 36 Dove cry 37 Occupied an aerie 38 Elegant bird found in the Great Smokies

HENRY GLASSIE PHOTO

Across

Down

1 Kayaking guide who could be called a “Water Warrior,” Anna ____ 2 Establish, as a walking pace 3 Walks slowly 4 New prefix 5 Total quiet, sometimes experienced in the Great Smokies 6 Lace up, as a shoelace 7 Echoed 11 It’s from sea to shining sea.... 12 Fox’s lair 13 ____ High swinging bridge on Grandfather Mountain 16 Walk softly, as a predator 18 Key quality to survive in the mountains 21 Small ravines 22 Spanish for sun 23 Compass direction 26 Religious book 27 Antlered animal 29 Survey 31 Joined 33 Lake covering in winter 34 Figured out

Answers can be found on page 7. BY MYLES MELLOR • ILOVECROSSWORDS.COM

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CONNECT WITH US Community

Where You Want to Be

Words Matter

LOOK FOR SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING AT THESE UPCOMING FESTIVALS

onesborough, Tennessee, reader Jo Harris, who is also a frequent writer for Smoky Mountain Living, wrote to express her appreciation for the June/July issue. “I started reading it at the mailbox and didn’t stop until I’d had a few chuckles over Reno Harrell’s ‘State Sponsored Swimming,’ on the last page,” she wrote. “The excerpts from Jeremy Jones’s piece stirred some old memories—not always good ones—about how my native Appalachian language pegged me, incorrectly, as a simpleton,” Harris continued. “Survival in the business world demanded that I ‘clean up’ my language, but I ﬁnd myself slipping into the old dialect from time to time. Like Jeremy, I

“Like Jeremy, I say

mash the button instead of push it, and I can’t help but wonder if he uses a buggy at the grocery store instead of a cart?” say mash the button instead of push it, and I can’t help but wonder if he uses a buggy at the grocery store instead of a cart? “I remember thinking, also incorrectly, that my mother was one of those simpletons when she’d talk about the sarvisberry tree. Didn’t she know it was serviceberry? And why were things quare instead of strange? And ropes quiled instead of coiled? To describe a comfortable chair, I’ve heard, ‘hit sets good.’ These days if I should ever hear someone say, ‘That baby has yeller jaunders,’ right away I’d know we were kindred spirits. “I may have been embarrassed by the language used by my Smoky Mountain ancestors, but that so-called ‘bad’ English just might not be so bad after all. Undoubtedly some of it rolled off the tongues of nobility in England and Scotland.”

y Culinary creativity takes takes center stage during the eighth annual Asheville Wine and Food Festival, starting with a showcase of all things sweet on August 19 and culminating in the grand tasting on August 20. ashevillewineandfood.com. y On September 17, the Hardman Farm in Sautee Nacoochee (just south of Helen, Georgia) will host the inaugural Spirit of Appalachia Food, Wine & Art Festival, a free showcase for the flavors of the mountains. Nearly 80 juried arts vendors will appear alongside live performances by Georgia musicians such as bluegrass band Radford Windham & Step Back Cadillac (pictured above). y The following weekend, on September 24, Agri-Fest Country Market and Pottery Comes to Town will enliven Cleveland, Georgia, with vendor booths, local crafts, and produce, and opportunities to come face to face with alpacas, goats, cows, and other farm animals. y From September 16 to 18, the annual Bristol Rhythm and Roots Reunion will celebrate the birthplace of country music with performances by more than 100 bands including headliners Loretta Lynn, the Indigo Girls, and Béla Fleck and Abigail Washburn. bristolrhythm.com. y On October 1, Asheville seed company Sow True Seed will host the third annual WNC Garlic Fest, complete with workshops, a street fair, and garlicky taste sensations (past examples have ranged from salt and aioli to ice cream and ganache). wncgarlicfest.com.

Even More

Need a Smoky Mountain Living fix between issues? Sign up for our free monthly e-newsletter at smliv.com. Get daily updates and connect with our community at facebook.com/smokymtnliving, twitter.com/smokymtnliving, and instagram.com/smokymtnliving.

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

The sights… the seasons…

ISSUES OPINIONS A&E OUTDOORS & MORE

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:_^dç^çIZææçXW"U_] ,&,!(-,!&&%% :_^dç^ç 8ç] A_bdY 7çb_æZ^ç WWW.SMLIV.COM

AT THE PARK Community

People of the Century

hether explorers or stewards, park creators or residents—countless people have left their mark on the Smokies. Yet the Great Smoky Mountains Association has gone ahead and counted 100 such people who it has deemed the most influential people in the Smokies’ history. The list, published in the GSMA’s Smokies Life magazine, commemorates the 100th birthday of the National Park Service. Historians, writers, GSMA directors, and members of the public pooled their opinions to develop the final lineup—an “extremely difficult” task, according to magazine editor Steve Kemp. “I told people I wished it was the 200th anniversary of the National Park Service, because I would have felt a lot more comfortable including 200 people on the list.” Some of the suggestions were predictable, such as Horace Kephart, an outdoorsman, Horace Kephart, a famed figlibrarian, and writer from Missouri, is ure who wrote on Apoften called one of the fathers of the palachian culture and was Great Smoky Mountains National one of the most vocal propoPark. DONATED PHOTO nents of the park’s creation, and Carlos Campbell, a writer who blazed the Appalachian Trail’s path through the park. Other well-known names also populate the list, including photographer George Masa, Wilderness Society cofounder Harvey Broome, and businessman John D. Rockefeller, who contributed millions to the park creation effort. Deciding which modern-day heroes to include proved a bit more difficult, however, considering history hasn’t yet determined which contributions will become legendary and which are destined to fade into the background. The selection committee focused on how influential the candidate was, as well as length of tenure. Hattie Davis, who was born in what is now the Cataloochee Valley area of the park and currently resides in nearby Maggie Valley, is a prime example of the “length of tenure” qualification. Through books and films and interviews, Davis has spent her whole life preserving the valley’s history. Then there are those who put the spotlight on the biological riches of the Smokies, such as Susan Braton, a plant ecologist who began directing the Uplands Field Laboratory in 1975. Her work

has led to “long-lasting contributions,” says Kemp. After deciding on the names, the next challenge was to sum up each life’s long and colorful story in one succinct paragraph. “The article could’ve taken up every page of this issue, and many more,” says Courtney Lix, who wrote the article and is also author of the book No Place for the Weary Kind: Women of the Smokies (see sidebar). “Celebrating a broad and diverse group of people offers a fresh look at the inspired dedication necessary to protect, steward, and share what’s special about the Great Smoky Mountains.” The list may be written and done with, but the Smokies’ history, of course, is not. Kemp jokes that anyone who’s disappointed to be left off this list will have another chance in 2034, when the Smokies has its own centennial. And the years to come will no doubt bring many more champions of America’s most visited national park, rising up to protect its resources and share its story. “I hope [the list] will stimulate people to think about not only the people that did make these major contributions for the creation of the national park,” Kemp says, “but also their own lives—how their actions and what they do now may not seem historically signiﬁcant at the moment, just as a lot of these 100 people didn’t really feel like they were making history.” The magazine is available at smokiesinformation.org. —Holly Kays

The Women Who Embody the Smokies Courtney Lix has penned plenty of words about the Smokies and the people who shaped their history. But over the course of time and words, she came to a realization—that female contributions to the Smokies have largely been “underdocumented and under-appreciated.” She aims to fix that oversight with the publication of No Place for the Weary Kind: Women of the Smokies. The book takes an in-depth look at the stories of 19 women with strong ties to the region—everyone from singer Dolly Parton to naturalist Ila Hatter to Cherokee basket weaver Lottie Queen Stamper. “They loved the area in different ways—for their sustaining bounty of wild game and plants, for the scenic beauty found wandering hiking trails, for the artistic and musical traditions that fostered their own work—but each of their lives was shaped by the mountains in a profound way,” Lix says. The book is available for $14.95 at park visitors centers and online at smokiesinformation.org. Proceeds benefit park programs and services. —HK

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

MEET OUR CONTRIBUTORS Community

Henry Glassie

n the 1960s, folklorist Henry Glassie spent months with musician Ola Belle Reed, recording her memories and also her deep repertoire of Appalachian songs. Those interviews form the heart of a new book about Reed’s legacy, called Ola Belle Reed and Southern Mountain Music on the MasonDixon Line, published by Dust-to-Digital in Atlanta. On page 64, we feature an excerpt of that book in which Reed reflects on growing up in the Blue Ridge Mountains, with an introduction by Glassie. Recently retired as a professor of folklore at Indiana University, Glassie boasts a distinguished career that includes such awards as the Chicago Folklore Prize, the Haney Prize in the Social Sciences, Cummings Award of the Vernacular Architecture Forum, the Kniffen and Douglas awards of the Pioneer America Society, the Nigerian Studies Association Book Prize, and formal recognition for his contributions from the ministries of culture of Turkey and Bangladesh. Three of his works have been named among the notable books of the year by The New York Times.

Randy Johnson

TODD BUSH

or many writers, their first published article says little about their future work. Outdoors enthusiast Randy Johnson, on the other hand, started right on message. As an early member of the Virginia Wilderness Committee, he wrote his first magazine article in support of the start of wilderness designation in the state. On page 72, Johnson shares photos and his expertise on North Carolina’s Grandfather Mountain— the topic of his sixth and latest book dedicated to exploring and protecting the natural wonder of Southern Appalachia. Then again, actions speak louder than words, a

truism he lives to the letter. In addition to his decades as an outdoors writer, Johnson launched Grandfather Mountain’s fee-based trail system in the late 1970s after encountering no trespassing signs on a winter backpacking trip. He also encouraged the Southern Appalachian’s first Peregrine falcon reintroduction project and consulted on the design of the Blue Ridge Parkway’s roadside Tanawha Trail. He designed and constructed a stretch of North Carolina’s Mountainsto-Sea Trail. The list goes on. As a journalist, Johnson’s prolific career has included serving as the editor of Hemispheres magazine (the in-flight magazine of United Airlines) and as the travel editor of National Parks Traveler, a popular website devoted to coverage of the park system. Johnson now lives in Banner Elk, North Carolina. Learn more about him at randyjohnsonbooks.com.

Constance E. Richards

sheville writer Constance E. Richards has built a journalism career navigating difficult terrain—from her days as a correspondent in Moscow to her work unearthing the secrets of our region as the coauthor of Insiders’ Guide to North Carolina’s Mountains (published by Globe Pequot). The latter experience provided her the first opportunity to raft the French Broad River. She was attacked by a goose and got a sunburn (but she insists she’d do it again). As the author of “The XX Factor” on page 50, she had the opportunity to interview a few of our region’s top adventure guides who excel at pushing people out of their comfort zones. “I loved being confronted with my own ‘sporting life’—or lack thereof,” Richards says. “And how inspiring it was to learn of a prime athlete who only became so as an adult—after an unwell childhood—by learning and keeping up with those more advanced than she. There’s hope for us all!” In addition to her writing career—which includes writing credits in international publications such as Sports Illustrated, Conde Nast Traveler, and BBC News—Richards serves as director of the Grand Bohemian Gallery in Asheville’s Biltmore Village and as curator of the Vadim Bora Collection, her late husband’s body of work.

WWW.SMLIV.COM

PHOTO ESSAY Community

Few things endure quite like the memories made on an endless summer day in the mountains. Our readers share their views of those special moments.

Mark Roberts Night rhododendron.

Carla Passmore Grandfather Mountain.

Jo Harris A slice of summer, Sevierville, Tenn.

Vonda B. Magill Watching the wildlife.

John Northrup Swallowtail on Turks Cap.

Jo Harris Dining al fresco, Greeneville, Tenn.

John Northrup Chimney Tops.

“Summertime

is always the best of what might be.” — Charles Bowden

PHOTO ESSAY Community

“In summer’s heat her kisses sweet They fall from leafy bowers. She cuts the grain and harvests corn. The kiss of fall surrounds her.” —“Nonesuch,” a traditional English folk song

Terri Campbell The Channels Natural Area Preserve near Abingdon, Va.

Stacy Pierson Bryan Road.

Angelica Conde Cades Cove, Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

Gary Pinholster Late summer sunset. Blue Ridge Parkway near the Craggies.

ach issue of Smoky Mountain Living features photographs taken by our readers. The October/November 2016 issue will focus on craftsmanship in the Smokies. Send us your best photos depicting your favorite Appalachian heirloomsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; whether those made by human hands or those forged by nature.

Email photos to editor@smliv.com by August 12; include information on where the photo was taken and by whom. Reader-submitted photos are unpaid but may be rewarded with publication in our nationally distributed magazine. Connect with us at smliv.com and on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @SmokyMtnLiving.

Leigh Ann Browning Historic Jonesborough, Tenn.

Vonda B. Magill Enjoying the cool aquarium.

Look closely into the mountains of North Carolina and you’ll discover a place unlike any other. Hendersonville calls out to all to seek out and explore new experiences year-round. Stroll through our downtown Main Street ﬁlled with boutiques and eateries or ﬁnd a trail that will take you to new heights in DuPont State Recreational Forest. Belly up to a cold brew at Sierra Nevada Brewery or indulge in regional wine tastings — it’s all up to you!

Be moved. Because that’s what happens in Hendersonville.

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SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

SWEET APPALACHIA COMFORTS FOR THE MOUNTAIN SOUL

ECONOMIC BACKBONE Prolific Smokies photographer Charles Grossman took this image of Anne George and her young son, Edward, in Cherokee, North Carolina, in 1936, possibly during the annual Cherokee Fair. Examples of pottery for sale to the tourists visiting the area can be seen scattered on the ground. “When I look at this image I think more about the future than the past,” says Mike Aday, the librarian-archivist for the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. “Tourism was as important to the Cherokee economy then as it is now. The coming of the national park posed a management challenge for many local communities, the Cherokee not least among them. Though I’m sure they struggled against the urge to exploit their culture for the tourist dollars, they seem to have struck a fair balance between the demands of the tourist economy and the need to maintain a balanced culture.” NPS, GREAT SMOKY MOUNTAINS NATIONAL PARK PHOTO

THE VIEW FROM HERE Sweet Appalachia

Corn-Bred BY ASHLEY ENGLISH

ot too long ago, I was chatting with a friend—a lifelong Southerner who had relocated to northern California several years prior. Though she adores the Golden State’s rugged Paciﬁc coastline, the ancient redwood forests, and the laid-back vibe, she relayed how profoundly much she missed Southern food. “What I wouldn’t give for some corn bread and collard greens,” she said, sighing. The state could keep its abundant avocados, award-winning vineyards, and orchards of almonds; she couldn’t shake the craving for a basket of hush puppies and a mug of iced sweet tea.

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

Having experienced a parallel withdrawal myself, I knew exactly what she meant. After a life of living in the southeast U.S., I moved to Washington, D.C., the summer I turned 20. There I experienced Korean bulgogi, Salvadoran empanadas, and Ethiopian injera for the first time. I heard Yo Yo Ma perform (for free), took my time observing Alexander Calder sculptures in the National Gallery of Art (also free), and counted a veritable United Nations of individuals as close friends. The international cuisine, wealth of free art and cultural performances, and vast diversity, however, didn’t assuage a deep and abiding longing for the tastes of my upbringing. More specifically, I wanted corn bread—and not just any version would do. In a spectacularly Goldilocks fashion, I pined for a corn bread that possessed no added sugar, that had a moist interior and crumby exterior, and that was simultaneously smoky, salty, and naturally sweet. It would be baked with bacon grease and butter, and contain no trace of processed vegetable oils. Essentially, I wanted my grandmother’s corn bread, the kind she baked regularly, having learned from her own mother, my Mamaw. A deep affinity for corn bread, and all things corn, pervades the southeast U.S., and for good reason. Corn has been cultivated and consumed in the Southern Appalachian region—and throughout widely scattered parts of North and South America—for centuries, if not millennia. Having traveled north to Appalachia from Mexico by way of the southwest U.S., corn has been a consistent and ubiquitous element in regional cuisine for a very long time. Hoecakes, hominy, hush puppies, corn cakes, spoon bread, suppone—there have been as many names for corn-based dishes in this area as there have been permutations for preparing it. That’s before even considering its nonedible uses, such as made into livestock feed or rendered into moonshine. Given such a long-term association with corn—owing both to its iconic Southern food status and my own family’s love affair with the stuff—it stands to reason that corn bread now regularly makes appearances on my kitchen table. I’ve been honing my corn bread recipe for some time, adjusting the type of cornmeal I find most preferable (medium-grind), the fats utilized (a blend of butter and bacon grease), and the liquid employed to bring it all together (buttermilk, forever and ever, amen). The version I’m offering here is as close to the way I remember it being prepared by my ancestors as I can recall, my great-grandmother and grandmother no longer around to confirm or deny my recipe. I recommend a heavy pat of butter, and if you’re feeling sweet, a generous spread of apple butter, come serving time. Maybe I’ll bake up a batch and send it to my homesick friend in California. Then all she’d need to make her Southern soul soar is a screened-in porch with a swing and overhead fan and some Dolly Parton on rotation.

Southern-Style Corn Bread Makes 6-8 servings

YOU WILL NEED 6 tablespoons butter 2 tablespoons bacon grease* 1 ¼ cup yellow cornmeal, medium grind 1 cup all-purpose flour 1 teaspoon baking soda 1 teaspoon salt 1 ½ cups whole fat buttermilk, room temperature 3 eggs, room temperature * Note: For a vegetarian version, replace bacon grease with an equal amount of butter.

In a spectacularly

TO PREPARE 1) Turn the oven to 400 degrees F. Place the butter and bacon grease (if using) into a 9-inch cast-iron skillet. Put the pan in the oven, allowing the fats to melt and the pan to heat while you prepare the batter. 2) In a medium mixing bowl, sift together the cornmeal, flour, baking soda, and salt. Set aside. 3) In a large bowl, whisk together the buttermilk and eggs. Remove the heated pan from the oven, and carefully pour all but several teaspoons of the melted fat into the bowl. Whisk until fully combined. 4) Whisk the dry ingredients into the wet, combining just until the batter is free of lumps. 5) Pour the batter into the heated pan. Bake for about 20-25 minutes, until the top is golden brown and the sides of the corn bread begin to pull away from the edges of the pan. Cool 10-15 minutes before serving.

Goldilocks fashion, I pined for a corn bread that possessed no added sugar, that had a moist interior and crumby exterior, and that was simultaneously smoky, salty, and naturally sweet.

MEG REILLEY PHOTOS

Candler, N.C., homesteader Ashley English is the author of seven books. See smallmeasure.com.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

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ROOTS Sweet Appalachia y

From left: Dinosaur, red Russian, and Vates Scotch curled kale.

SOW TRUE PHOTO

Kale Until Christmas

hris Smith, the community coordinator of Sow True Seed— an Asheville-based company that specializes in open-pollinated, heirloom, and organic seeds—answers gardening questions in each issue of Smoky Mountain Living.

I can never seem to get it together to have a fall garden. Any tips for success? It’s August, you’re drowning in tomatoes that need to be canned, your kids have turned mutinous over zucchini, and your okra seems to flower, pod, and go woody within hours. Every day you’re squishing bugs, harvesting fruit, and trying to persuade your winter squash to stop invading the peppers. So when we tell you it’s time to start your fall garden, you have every right to scream. But don’t panic. With decreasing bug pressure, the satisfaction of a homegrown Thanksgiving meal, and the promise of kale until Christmas, a fall garden is worth the little extra effort and doesn’t need to be overwhelming. Here are some ideas to lessen the burden: y START YOUR OWN FALL TRANSPLANTS INSIDE. Away from the fray of the summer garden, you can take a deep breath and start some seeds inside. You can be organized

and plan what you want. Growing transplants means you’ll avoid most of the bugs and buy yourself a little extra time before planting outside. TIMING IS KEY TO THE FALL GARDEN. Look up the “days to harvest” in your seed catalog or on your packet. Then, count backwards from your “average first frost date” to work out your planting date. You are aiming to have your plants around 75 percent mature by the time that first frost hits. If you are planting Brussels sprouts (90 days to harvest) in Asheville (where the average first frost is October 25th), then you’ll want to start the seeds around the end of July and definitely before the end of August. DON’T WORRY IF YOU’RE LATE. The last point is valid, but don’t panic if you’re a little late. The mountains can be funny and we often have warm Novembers. There is definitely a period when low temperature and lack of light means nothing will grow (often called the Persephone period), but it’s always worth throwing down some lettuce, kale, collards, spinach, radish, or beets. Often, if they don’t produce in the fall, they’ll come up early in spring. BE SNEAKY. Direct sow some lettuce under your dying tomato plants, plant peas at the base of your okra so they can climb the stalks even once the okra has succumbed to the first frost, and throw bunching onion and radish seeds everywhere (they are quick to harvest and grow in small spaces). COVER CROP. Always remember to use cover crops in any sections of garden that don’t have plants growing. Cover crops can build soil, protect from erosion, and look good during the winter months.

Can I plant the garlic I buy from the store? It always sprouts in the fridge. This is a great and common question, which is also often asked about potatoes (the answer is pretty much the same). First, if your garlic is nonElephant garlic (left) and Chesnok red organic, there is a chance that garlic (right). SOW TRUE PHOTO it has been sprayed with a growth inhibitor, which would reduce the chances of having a healthy plant. If it is organic garlic, then there is no reason why you couldn’t grow garlic from the cloves, but a risk persists. Garlic is reproduced by clonal division (you plant the cloves), not by seed. This makes garlic fairly susceptible to diseases. When you buy seed garlic it is certified. This means that samples of the garlic have been sent to an external laboratory to test for fusarium (and a few other diseases). Fusarium is the big one; it rots your garlic and the disease can persist in your garden for multiple years. So, while certified seed garlic costs more, it is worth the investment. If you are going to plant garlic that is not certified, then I’d recommend a local farmers market. This gives you a chance to speak with your farmer, who is likely to be honest about their rotation practices and the health of their soil. Garlic is otherwise an easy-to-grow crop that fills a winter niche nicely. Email your gardening questions to ask@sowtrue.com.

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

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READING LIST Sweet Appalachia

Hard Times and Tough People BY JEFF MINICK

n Over the Plain Houses, Atlanta writer Julia Franks gives us a powerful story of a disintegrating marriage, social change, and religious struggles, all set in Southern Appalachia.

The year is 1939. Irenie Lambey, a mother and wife born and raised in the mountains of Western North Carolina, has grown increasingly dissatisﬁed with her marriage and with her life. She questions the decisions made by husband Brodis, a crippled logger turned fundamentalist preacher who despises the changes that have come to the mountains and who rules his household like an Old Testament patriarch. Irenie also feels beaten down by the rough work and poverty of farming, and wonders whether she might not live a fuller life away from this hardscrabble existence. She feels “owned” by her husband and restricted by her past. Enter Virginia Furman, a USDA agent sent along with her own husband to Irenie’s mountains to foster modernization among the farmers and their families. Even before she meets Irenie, Virginia has heard of Matthew, the Lambeys’ academically talented son, and she encourages Irenie to send the boy to a school in Asheville, where he can more fully realize his gifts. Eventually the two women become conﬁdants, and it is Virginia who assists Irenie when she makes the attempt to escape her husband and the farm. Though we readers are clearly meant to sympathize with Irenie Lambey and her new friend, Virginia, the character of Brodis Lambey dominates the pages of Over the Plain Houses just as he strives to dominate his wife. Having experienced a religious conversion when he survived a logging accident, and having later felt the call to preach the Gospel, Brodis wrestles with God and with modernity throughout the novel. As he tries to pick his way through a thicket of complexities—his attempts to understand Irenie, his desires for his son, his skepticism about the government’s intrusions into mountain ways—Brodis seeks guidance from scripture. In another author’s hands, such struggles over interpretation and understanding would likely have become a caricature, but Franks gives us a full, vivid portrait of a man caught between two different eras and two ways of looking at the eternal questions. The tension between Brodis and his wife ratchets up when

Franks lets her readers see, hear, and feel the work and leisure of her mountain people.

Brodis discovers Irenie slipping out of their bed to walk at night in the hills. Though Irenie uses these excursions to escape her husband and find solitude, Brodis suspects her first of having an affair with another man and then of practicing witchcraft. Franks masterfully records for us the preacher’s shifting perceptions and his efforts to discover what is driving his wife to such strange behavior, never realizing that he himself has become her tormenter, the oppressor she seeks to escape. In addition to its finely drawn characters, Over The Plain Houses deserves commendation for its poetic language and descriptions. Here is a brief look at Irenie in bed with Brodis: “It was her husband, and she was in their bed, and it was late spring. Other sounds made their way through: the low thrush of the creek branch, the insects, a vigorous scurry in the walls, who-who-who-cooks for you somewhere to the south at the tobacco fields, below the first ridge. The dawn was on its way, and something inside her had ripped open.” That writing is pure music to the ear of any attentive reader. And this music runs throughout Over the Plain Houses Over the Plain Houses. Hub City Press, 2016. 275 pages, $26. Then there are Franks’ descriptions of mountain life. Not only does Franks give us flesh-andblood characters, even the minor ones, but she also lets her readers see, hear, and feel the work and leisure of her mountain people. Her familiarity with local plants and wildlife, doubtless enhanced by a lifetime of hiking the Smokies, shines on every page. One small example: Her portrayal of Brodis as a teenager learning how to ride the logs down a river left me marveling at the research she must have compiled to create such a scene. Nor does she miss a beat when giving us pictures of women cooking or sewing, of men plowing and planting. Here, for instance, Brodis is plowing his field with a mule: “Brodis swung his crippled foot around and up the new-turned furrow, and then again, and again, and it wasn’t long before sweat damped his collar and slid down his spine. He leaned on the hickory grips, and the dense grain of the wood told him of the rip of the share, and the upboil of earth, and how the soil resisted a man’s effort until it had no choice but to yield with a sigh of mud and mold and rot.” The details in this brief passage—“the hickory grips,” “the dense grain of the wood,” “the rip of the share”—reveal an author intimately familiar with the people and place of her story. Over the Plain Houses offers us drama and humor, accuracy in detail, characters who will stay with us long after we’ve read the last page, and a story relevant to our own time. What else could we ask for? Highly recommended.

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

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“I love this mirror between

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the people and the land, and how they captured that with this project.”

B Y J E N N AT H A N O R R I S

usic weaves its way through the hills of Asheville. A ﬁddle tune unfurls on a busy street corner, jazz ﬂoats out the windows of a wine bar, and rock clubs shake with raucous energy. Down the street, the Asheville Symphony spins its own magic in a quiet concert hall.

learn more:

JESSE KITT PHOTO

Rarely have those disparate sounds come together in the past. But the city’s classical musicians collaborated with local bands for a recently released album, the Asheville Symphony Sessions. Each of the album’s eight tracks resounds with the diversity of Asheville’s musical spheres. The orchestra’s string and woodwind sections surge through rock, folk, country, R&B, and jazz music written by local artists and scored by notable arrangers. Created at downtown Asheville’s Echo Mountain Recording Studios, the album features well-known musicians including Steep Canyon Rangers, Rising Appalachia, Shannon Whitworth, Matt Townsend, Lovett, Doc Aquatic, and Electric Owls. Between nine and 24 members of the Asheville Symphony added depth to each track, and some 150 people worked on the album in total. Though nationally known Echo Mountain usually reverberates with indie rock and roots music, the classical performers ﬁt seamlessly into the recording sessions, according to Asheville Symphony Orchestra executive director David Whitehill. The Asheville Symphony “To get out of the concert Sessions is available on iTunes, hall and into a nontraditional Amazon.com, by calling the space was pretty exhilaratsymphony office (828.254.7046), and at select local shops. ing,” Whitehill says. The experience also gave rock, country, and jazz artists the opportunity to be backed by an orchestra. Echo Mountain manager Jessica Tomasin served as a driving force behind the project. Her longtime friendships with music industry professionals made a signiﬁcant impact on the project. She brought in world-class arrangers including Michael Bearden, who

— Lizz Wright

works with Lady Gaga and Neil Young and was the musical director for Michael Jackson’s This Is It tour, as well as Van Dyke Parks, who arranged the score for the animated Disney ﬁlm The Jungle Book and composed Smile with Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys. The album comes at a high point in Asheville’s music scene as more nationally recognized artists move to Western North Carolina. Internationally renowned jazz and R&B vocalist Lizz Wright collaborated with Free Planet Radio, an Asheville-based multi-instrumental world music trio, for a track on the album called “Circle Round The Flame.” A Georgia native, Wright moved to the area from Brooklyn eight years ago, in part to ﬁnd respite from city life and also to take inspiration from the region’s musical traditions. “The very feel of the music here really does look like the land, with the mountains and incredible broad rivers and creeks,” says Wright. “I love this mirror between the people and the land, and how they captured that with this project.” Whitehill says he felt especially fortunate to work with such high-caliber musicians for the album. “It was so special to work with Lizz Wright,” he says. “She was on the cover of DownBeat Magazine in January and she’s all over the world. For her to take time out of her schedule to collaborate with Free Planet Radio and craft this new work is just incredibly meaningful.” Wright describes this album as a creative release for a growing community of music professionals in the region, and also as a reflection of Asheville’s evolving place in Southern Appalachian culture. Whitehill agrees, adding that Asheville is emerging as a musical hub of the Southeast. He describes the project as a “thank you card” to the musicians and audiences who support the city’s musical efforts, saying, “We really wanted do something special for this community that would stand the test of time.”

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

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TRADITIONS Sweet Appalachia

Genius in a Jar BY FRED SAUCEMAN

he making of chow-chow involves far more than the blending of vinegar, vegetables, and spices. Canning this mysterious relish, made for generations in the Mountain South, signals change and ingenuity. The seasons are about to change—and Appalachian cooks know just what to do. In the latest days of summer, when garden vegetables are in decline, when their shapes and colors are not as strong and bright as before, resourceful cooks find a use for them. Often that use is chow-chow. True to the eternal spirit of mountain frugality, pickling and preserving perpetuate the goodness of the garden. Making food last, so that memories of the summer garden brighten even the darkest of winter days, is a hallmark of the Appalachian kitchen. Cooks in these mountains are among the best in the world at stretching and saving the products of the land. Concentrated by cooking, fortified by vinegar, and intensified by once exotic spices like cinnamon and turmeric, chow-chow offers piquant counterpoint to one of the region’s enduring and iconic meals, a bowl of soup beans. With each spoonful of chow-chow, in any season, my thoughts turn immediately to the humble kitchen of the late Janette Carter, in Scott County, Virginia. She was the daughter of the First Family of Country Music, A.P. and Sara Carter, and she inherited her chow-chow recipe from her mother. In early 2002, four years before her death, I visited Janette’s kitchen, in the Maces Spring community, to get a few lessons about chow-chow and a lot of lessons about life. While internationally famous for their music, the Carters never forgot their own very personal connections to the land—to Poor Valley, to Clinch Mountain, to Brickyard Gap. Making chow-chow strengthened those connections. Despite constant media attention and never-ending demands on her time as the owner of the Carter Family Fold, a live music venue, Janette always made time to stir up and can a big pot of chow-chow so that she and her family and the members of Mount Vernon United Methodist Church could enjoy it until the cycle restarted the next year. Her brother Joe forged an S-shaped tool solely for the chopping of the cabbage, onions, green tomatoes, and bell peppers. Janette told me that the chopper made the rounds, in kitchens all over her end of the county. “That’s what people do here in the valley,” she said. “Everybody helps one another.” That old family recipe, on a yellowing card, was mounted inside a notebook and surrounded by family photographs and documents. The tape that held the recipe to the page was amber-colored and

brittle. But its place in the collection of family heirlooms and memorabilia was clear and permanent. Making chow-chow was as much a part of Janette’s identity as playing the autoharp. Stardom never changed her. In middle age, she worked in the cafeteria at Hilton Elementary School, dishing up soup beans and handing out light bread to students. As far as chow-chow recipes go, the Carter version is one of the longer ones. There are countless variations of chow-chow in Appalachia and beyond. Some are spartan, incorporating not much more than chopped cabbage, peppers, and vinegar. Others, like Janette’s, call for a lengthier list of ingredients—in her case, 12. A trademark of the Carter version is the use of brown sugar. Janette cautioned me to add the brown sugar “scantly,” even though the recipe calls for three pounds of it. Food historians and scholars still argue over the origin of the name chow-chow and how recipes for it originally came into the Appalachian region. It has close cousins all over the world: atjar Janette Carter made music and chow-chow in Southwest Virginia. PHOTO BY LARRY SMITH

pickles in Indonesia, torshi in the Middle and Near East, the chutneys of India, and Great Britain’s piccalilli among them. Eating chow-chow with the Carters offers a reminder of the rhythm of the seasons. The previous year’s batch is passed around the table while the remnants of the waning garden simmer on the stove. Janette’s daughter, Rita Forrester, continues the tradition to this day. Some of Nashville’s most famous musicians once sat around Janette’s simple table, eating bowls of soup beans and ladles of chow-chow, refreshed by her humility and nourished by the labor of her work-worn hands. ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Fred Sauceman’s latest book is Buttermilk & Bible Burgers: More Stories from the Kitchens of Appalachia, published by Mercer University Press in Macon, Georgia.

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 â&#x20AC;¢ ISSUE 4

PAINTING THE TOWN Front porches are few and far between in downtown Asheville. But each summer, the spirit of the porch jam session lives on during the weekly Shindig on the Green, now celebrating its 50th year with performances on August 13, 20, 27, and September 3. Gathering at Pack Square Park “along about sundown” (around 7 p.m.), music lovers towing law chairs, blankets, and the occasional instrument come together to wind down summer nights with traditional mountain music and dance. The event continues the legacy started by folk historian and musician Bascom Lamar Lunsford, who in 1928 first brought ballad singers, fiddlers, banjo pickers, and string bands out of the mountains and coves and onto the stage of the annual Rhododendron Festival, entertaining some 5,000 people at Pack Square. By 1930 the event had grown into the Mountain Dance and Folk Festival— the country’s first folk festival, marking its 89th year this August 4,5, and 6 at the Diana Wortham Theatre at Pack Place. Both events have become summer fixtures in Asheville. Now, a large new mural honoring Shindig on the Green’s first half century guarantees year-round exposure thanks to the work of local artist Doreyl Ammons Cain. VICKI PASSMORE PHOTO

MOUNTAIN EXPLORER ROVING THESE HILLS AND VALLEYS

OUTLOOKS Mountain Explorer

Alone in the Woods B Y H O L LY K AY S

Morning fog rises from Panthertown Valley. HOLLY KAYS PHOTO

here’s always that moment of no return: the instant you are forced to admit that whatever foolhardy plan you’ve been batting around, there’s no longer any option to back out. For me, that moment occurred at the bottom of the trail sloping down from the parking lot at North Carolina’s Panthertown Valley, an overnight pack strapped to my back and a pine-shaded camping spot in the crosshairs. The sun was sinking toward evening, the birds were singing through thick August leaves, and my hiking companions were in their car, heading to their home 50 miles away. I was well aware that backcountry camping is firmly on the list of Things Females Should Not Do Alone—a list I hate with a passion, by the way. But this idea been rankling itself in my brain for days, refusing to leave. So here I was. The plan had been much more sensible, in the beginning. My two friends and I would head up to Panthertown together and spend the day hiking its spiderweb of trails to explore the creeks, waterfalls, mountains, and surprisingly sandy creek-side beaches. Then we’d pitch our tents and spend the night in the woods. The hiking part of the day had passed in all the perfection of late summer high in the mountains—not too hot, not too cold, following routes featuring sheer rock faces and hidden alcoves along fresh mountain streams. Two happy dogs ran giddily up the hills and splashed in the water. A violent cloudburst soon gave way to sunny skies, drying everything out as quickly as it had gotten soaked. But all that was set against my friends’ announcement the day before that a scheduling conflict meant they wouldn’t be able to stay the night after all. I could feel my pile of camping equipment sink in disappointment when the news came. I felt the same way, and an idea crept into my head—why not camp solo? My heart had been so set on this camping trip and the prospect of waking up in a song-filled forest. Part of me knew there’d be temptation to chicken out, though,

so I left the question open-ended. I drove separately from my friends and left my overnight gear in the car. I juggled the decision all day, tracking changes in the weather and in my motivation. As our hike concluded, I found myself running out of excuses. The sky was clear, the campsite I’d been eyeing since morning remained unclaimed, and the fact that a group of acquaintances happened to camp just down the trail made the solo aspect seem less risky. Still, that voice in the back of my head kept repeating with each step down the trail: You can still turn back, you can still turn back, you can still turn back. I ignored it and kept walking, though not without wondering if I’d regret the choice come morning. When I reached the campsite and began to perform all those familiar evening tasks— hanging a bear bag, setting up a tent, boiling water—a funny thing happened. I calmed down. The light ﬁltered verdant through the leaves of the trees and onto the ferns below. Closer to my tent, sky-high pine trees threw shadows on the red-needled carpet. This was nothing strange and new, I realized. This was just another adventure within the awe-inspiring beauty of creation. Eventually, all the chores were done, the light gone. I crawled into my sleeping bag, shortly followed by my comfort-loving dog, Arti. The night sounds melded together outside. Distant thunder grumbled, cicadas competed with—and beat out—the last of the crickets. Sporadic drops of water—holdovers from the afternoon rain—hit my tent from the trees above. Arti heaved gusty sighs, so very tired. I got out my journal and scribbled some thoughts about fear and adventure, beauty and God, ﬁlling nine pages before my thoughts ran out and sleep demanded my full attention. I’d be lying if I said it was a peaceful night, that the dark hours

I’d be lying if I

said it was a peaceful night, that the dark hours passed free of fear or wakefulness.

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

passed free of fear or wakefulness. Arti and I took turns startling, she occasionally waking to bark at (seemingly) nothing, and I jerking out of sleep periodically to hone in on a noise that my sleep-drugged self was sure must be a bear. But the sun rose, as it tends to do, and we woke to yet another beautiful day, a camp untouched by any marauding wildlife, and a clear sense of accomplishment. The last of those led me to answer my journaled question of the night before: Why do I insist on pushing myself this way, pursuing the harder uncertainties rather than the easy, comfortable things? By morning, I knew the answer. I do it because staying home doesnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t let you watch the woods wake up, the fog burn off, and the conďŹ dence of competence surge your soul. ConďŹ dence is only semi-perishable, and I knew Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d need this batch in the near future, to push me on to the next adventure. And who knows what that might be? Waynesville reporter Holly Kays is a foresterâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s daughter who is happy to live in the land of many trees.

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Sarge the St. Bernard mix splashes in one of the valleyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s many creeks. HOLLY KAYS PHOTO

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FIELD GUIDE Mountain Explorer

The Return of the Lord of the Forest? BY DON HENDERSHOT

landagi, or “lord of the forest,” was the Cherokee name for cougar. The Cherokee revered the big cat; that and the owl were the only two animals to reach the seventh (highest) level of purity and sacredness.

Once fairly common in the Smokies, this noble beast’s reign once spread from the Yukon to the southern Andes and from the Atlantic to the Paciﬁc. It’s no surprise that such an impressive animal with such extensive range could come to be known by so many different names; other common names include mountain lion, panther, painter, and catamount. Europeans, however, didn’t revere Klandagi. To them, cougars were large and scary nocturnal predators. During mating season, they produce a piercing shriek said to resemble a woman’s scream. They competed for game and killed livestock. Settlers feared and loathed the big cats. They were shot on sight and hunted with abandon. This persecution, coupled with the destruction of habitat, led to the extirpation of cougars in the eastern U.S. by the early 20th century. The last report of a wild mountain lion being killed in the Smokies was in 1920. According to the story, Tom Sparks was herding sheep in Spence Field when a lion attacked him. Sparks said he fought the animal off, inflicting a deep wound in the cat’s shoulder. A few months later a mountain lion was killed near present-day Fontana Village; the cat’s left shoulder blade had been cut in two. It was believed this was the cat Sparks had wounded. Sightings in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park continued, however. In a 1977 report on the status of mountain lions in the park, 12 sightings had been reported from 1908-1965 and 31 sightings from 1966-1976; reports of cougars have continued since. Biologists and game managers shrugged those sightings off as either cases of mistaken identity or “western” cougars that had either been released by hunters or captive cougars that had escaped.

But this gris-gris of the mountains is not going gently into that good night despite the fact that the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service declared the “eastern” cougar extinct in 2015. The declaration simply added another layer of intrigue. The USF&W relies on the taxonomy of S.P. Young and E.A. Goldman, established in 1946, that lists 15 subspecies of cougar in the country. The eastern cougar was known as Felis concolor cougar. Since then the genus name has been changed to Puma, and recent DNA investigations seem to point to only six subspecies. Five of those are from Latin America, leaving only one puma in North America, Puma concolor cougar. And this cougar is showing up in the East. A male cat killed in June 2011 was found, through DNA testing, to have originated in the Black Hills of South Dakota. In 2014 another male cougar was killed in Arkansas, and DNA testing also linked this animal to the Black Hills of Wyoming and/or South Dakota. The first confirmed female cougar east of the Mississippi was noted in northwest Tennessee in 2015, and there have been five other sightings from trail cameras in Humphreys and Obion counties. Closer to the Smokies, the Tennessee Wildlife Resources (TWR) received photos of a cougar in January that was purportedly taken in Kodak, about 22 miles south of Knoxville. Though TWR hasn’t confirmed the sighting, it seems Klandagi could be returning home. Don Hendershot is a naturalist in Waynesville, North Carolina.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

CREATIVE COMMONS PHOTO

Tennessee Wildlife Resources received photos of a cougar in January that was purportedly taken in Kodak, about 22 miles south of Knoxville.

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

GO WILD Mountain Explorer

GO OFF ROAD The rafting put-in at the Waterville exit

Rafting the Pigeon River. SMOKY MOUNTAIN RAFTING PHOTO

Cocke County AT THE CORNER OF ADVENTURE & SCENERY BY O LW E N C L A I B O R N E

rivers know the stretch of Interstate 40 between Hartford, Tennessee, and Canton, North Carolina, as a white-knuckled experience wedged between concrete barriers and moving walls of tractor trailers. Passengers see soaring mountain peaks and the plunging Pigeon River Gorge. Locals know this as Cocke County—aka the “adventurous side of the Smokies” at the intersection of the Cherokee National Forest, Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and Pisgah National Forest. “The national forests provide the same scenic beauty and recreation opportunities as the national park, but can be a lot less crowded,” says Cheryl Summers, recreation manager for the Cherokee National Forest. Better yet, many of these outdoor opportunities are just a short drive or hike away from the busy I-40 corridor. Bonus: Though national park regulations prohibit mountain biking and hiking with dogs, no such restrictions apply on the trails and roads of Cherokee and Pisgah. Also permitted: horseback riding and operation of street-compliant, registered, off-road vehicles on certain state and county roads.

BASE CAMP Hartford and Cosby, Tennessee, make ideal bases for exploring the neighboring forests. Known as “the rafting capital of the Southeast,” Hartford is home to 11 outfitters conducting guided whitewater and scenic float trips on the Pigeon River, named for the extinct passenger pigeon. This thriving ecosystem supports rainbow trout, river otters, and nesting bald eagles and also hosts thousands of commercial rafting visitors and private boaters annually as the third most popular whitewater river in the United States. Hartford features two riverside campgrounds: Foxfire Mountain Campground, or the new Pigeon River Campground. The closest hotels are in Newport, Tennessee, about 20 minutes west on I-40.

off I-40 provides a starting point for an excellent “gravel grind” bicycle ride. This route includes a shallow river crossing and is best suited for bikes that can handle off-road terrain. Not for the faint-of-heart, the three-hour trip “offers amazing climbing with unbelievable views that you will not see anywhere else on a mountain bike,” says Doug Sharp, coach of the Smoky Mountain Bears Mountain Bike Team. Depart from the parking lot below the Waterville Bridge, and pedal upriver past the power plant. At the end of that road, turn left up Highway 32 (Mount Sterling Road) and climb 4.5 miles to the Mount Sterling trailhead. Turn left across from the trailhead onto logging road 287. At the crest of that climb, stay left and begin a nine-mile descent. Veer right on Forest Road 288 and ride 1.5 miles past Tower Road. Look for a pull-off on the left and a hanging rope marking the path to Buzzard’s Roost, where outstanding views await. Then backtrack 1.5 miles to turn right onto a rough “pig trail”—a beautiful riverside ride with a creek crossing. Once you return to Highway 32, turn right to coast 1.5 miles back to your car. Another route with a birds-eye view is Rocky Top Road, not far from Hartford’s center. This destination provides an outstanding vista of the French Broad River Valley for mountain-bikers, horseback riders, and high-clearance fourwheel drive motorists. Along the summit of Rocky Top Road, the views are dramatic. Look for a Forest Service pullover on one side, and on the opposite side, an unmarked dirt embankment. Scramble up that embankment to find a maintained one-mile footpath along the Rocky Top Ridge. After a steep climb, it’s a fairly level walk with soaring views. Make it a loop hike by returning to your car by road. Dogs must be leashed.

Cherokee National Forest. COCKE COUNTY PARTNERSHIP PHOTO

MORE ADVENTURES At the Smoky Mountain Premier RV Resort, Smoky Mountain Adventures operates Ultimate Terrain Vehicle tours. This is the first licensed offroad tour operator in the Cherokee National Forest, offering an off-road adventure that can last up to 2.5 hours. Horseback riders might want to head to the Harmon Den area, located in Pisgah National Forest. Here one can ride 15-plus miles on a series of loops composed of forest trails and roads. Harmon Den can be accessed off Interstate 40, exit 7, onto Cold Springs Road. Olwen Claiborne is the marketing director for Smoky Mountain Outdoors (smokymountainrafting.com).

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IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD Mountain Explorer

Life’s a Peach in Clayton, Georgia BY TIM OSMENT

“I

s that what I think it is?” I asked my wife, Dawn, as we stepped onto the outdoor deck of Grapes & Beans, a Main Street coffee shop in Clayton, Georgia. She took a moment to examine the object of my gaze: vine that beautifully climbed the deck’s wooden trellises, providing shade overhead this open-air dining room. “Yes, it’s kudzu,” she said. In effect, this unassuming cafe had managed to train the much-despised vine known to control the South. The scene was but one surprise on a sunny Saturday spent exploring this charming town in the heart of Rabun County. In addition to the kudzu on the deck, French Gypsy music and a smile greeted us at the coffee counter. Grapes & Beans, it’s worth

noting, is a member of Slow Food, USA, an organization encouraging folks to trade their hectic schedules for long-lasting enjoyment. We did our part lingering over two cups of Dancing Goat organic coffee and a cinnamon roll hefty enough to share. A few doors down, we found another, newer coffee shop, White Birch Provisions. Local, original art and chandeliers made of wrought-iron gates soften an otherwise modern aesthetic. To the left, the Wine Cave features cigars, accessories, and ﬁne wines. To the right, the Farm offers cheese, charcuterie, snacks, honey, and other regional products. Upstairs, visitors recline in the Coffee Loft, with a bird’s-eye view of the goings-on below. Out the door, with about an hour to go before lunchtime, we chose one of our favorite pastimes: strolling around. We entered and exited two throwback barbershops. It was hard to determine if the locals waiting for a cut or a shave were particularly happy with our curious presence. A tattered image of a smiling, well-known politician decorated a very visible dartboard in one of them, and we decided it best to keep the conversation brief. Busy tables full of crafts and fresh fare beckoned over at the Main Street Farmers Market. Storefronts advertised ice cream and live bait. At Prater’s Collectables, where the owner has been collecting old postcards for over 30 years, one could spend a day thumbing through the huge variety of vintage snapshots. While there, we checked out the old books and enjoyed the shop’s special blend of Guatemalan coffee and fresh-baked biscotti. I do love the smell of old parchment and new pastries. I had heard about the fried chicken at the Clayton Café, and just as the noon steeple chimed, we found ourselves right in front of the restaurant. We entered, slid into a corner booth, and scanned the menu. Quickly realizing this place existed to satisfy rather large

The kudzu-shaded deck of Grapes & Beans. Left: Main Street shopping. TIM OSMENT PHOTO • RABUN COUNTY TDA PHOTO

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

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appetites, and that we were still full from earlier delights, we apologized to the waitress for changing our minds but made a mental note to return soon. We noticed a crowd gathering down Main Street, so we decided to investigate. We had landed in Clayton on the same day as the “Tour of Georgia,” a Gran Fondo National Championship Series bike competition. The back roads and mountains of Rabun County provide a beautiful setting for the three race categories (33, 69, and 108 miles), and its central location attracts racers from up and down the East Coast. The after-party and awards ceremony were to happen at the Universal Joint, a refurbished garage and gas station that now specializes in juicy burgers, cold drinks, and tater tots. The street was roped off, and a local band was already on stage scorching through a variety of rockabilly favorites. Our lunch spot had found us. My brisket with fried onions and Dawn’s blackened ﬂounder tacos with jalapeno aioli—and a pico that she referred to as “good north Georgia catsup salsa”—blended perfectly with the music and a full-bodied micro-brew. We could have stayed all day, but we had one more stop before we were to leave Clayton. Every small town is richer when its public library is convenient, open every day, and full of life. The Rabun County Public Library in Clayton ﬁlls the bill. The beautiful facility has come a long way since its 1915 one-room roots and provides both physical and virtual resources for kids and adults. And the interesting, original art is worth the visit on its own merits.

Built in 1935 by the Works Progress Administration as its county headquarters, Clayton’s Rock House now hosts city events. Below: Universal Joint is a Main Street hangout. RABUN COUNTY TDA PHOTOS

Leaving Clayton, we headed north back to our home in Sylva, but decided to stop in along the way at Porter’s Coffee House and Antique Mall in Dillard. This huge store has a bit of everything, but what we were really interested in were the vintage books. From early editions to rare out-of-print volumes to old series that many of us remember as our first grade-school “chapter books,” the titles in these stacks bring back a flood of memories. Awash in nostalgia and our appetites more than satisfied, we drove home, looking forward to our next simple adventure. ABOUT THE AUTHORS: Tim Osment and his wife, Dawn Gilchrist, explore small towns in Southern Appalachia in search of fresh coffee, smart books, and good eating.

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

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LIVING HISTORY Mountain Explorer

Hollow Harmonies BY CARROLL MCMAHAN

armonious voices—often described as spirited, soulful, poignant, even haunting—ring out from Middle Creek United Methodist Church in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. These shape-note singers practice an art centuries older than the historic country church where they’ve assembled. Grouped according to vocal range, a dozen or so members of the dedicated group sit in a hollow square formation, allowing the a cappella voices to focus inward instead of project outward. One by one, members move to the center and lead a selection of their choice, proudly carrying on the generations-old tradition. “The sound of it is what ﬁrst drew me in,” says Andrew Whaley, a fourth-generation shape-note singer. “There’s no other sound like it on Earth. There are no instruments, just pure voices. When you are up leading a song, you can almost get up and walk on the sound.” David Sarten, leader of the Sevier County (Tennessee) Shape Note Singers for 15 years, and his brother, Joe, also come from a long line of shape-note singers. In fact, most of the faithful members of this group descend from Smoky Mountain pioneer families who have handed down the tradition. Shape-note singing (also known as Sacred Harp, or Old Harp) is a participatory, not performance, style of music. Notes of the scale are written in four geometric shapes—right triangles, ovals, rectangles, and diamonds—and are interpreted in song by the voice, or “the harp,” the instrument humans are given at birth. The sevenshape style is called Christian Harmony. This genre, which has origins in late 17th-century England, stems from Colonial America. Through the 19th century and into

the 20th, singing school teachers visited churches and small, often isolated communities to teach untrained singers to read the special notation. The teachers, whose sole credentials were likely to be enthusiasm and a little self-instruction, usually moved from town to town, at each locality starting a subscription for his school. Hundreds of hymnals exist in shape-note notation. The group practicing in Pigeon Forge uses The New Harp of Columbia by M.L. and W.H Swan, ﬁrst published in 1848. Unlike some other forms of music, shape-note compositions were not written as a result of church patronage or commissioned by wealthy patrons. Instead, the music is composed by and for avocational singers who promote cultural literacy through both music and lyrics. Shape-note singing is intended for the immediate experience of community singers who share in the joy of singing—not for select performance ensembles or highly-trained singers, though the singing groups and enthusiasts often include trained singers. While many shape-note singers trace their family’s participation back several generations, there are plenty of newcomers to the tradition, too. Bill Gathergood, a retired teacher from Columbus,

Old Harp singers gather at the Center for Campus Ministries at Maryville College in Tennessee. Top: Generations of shape-note singers have used songbooks such as New Harp of Columbia. CARROLL MCMAHAN PHOTOS

Ohio, had never heard of Old Harp singing until he moved to the Wears Valley community near Pigeon Forge six years ago. Gathergood saw Old Harp Singing on the schedule for Pigeon Forge’s annual Wilderness Wildlife Week and expected to be entertained with song and harp music. He says he was surprised and greatly touched by the exuberance and spirituality of the music and soon joined the local group. “The ﬁrst time I attended a practice,” Gathergood says, “the oldest person there was 92 and the youngest 19. Everybody is accepted. There are singers representing all [religious] denominations.” Michael Nichols, a retired public school teacher and adjunct professor at Western Carolina University, says shape notes were created to more easily teach those who had no formal music training. “In the rural south particularly,” Nichols says, “there were no funds for music

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

High Notes Observe or try shape-note singing for yourself at these upcoming public events. y AUGUST 11-14 Wildacres Retreat, Little Switzerland, North Carolina. doremicamp.org. y AUGUST 21 2 p.m., Cades Cove Primitive Baptist Church, Great Smoky Mountains National Park. y SEPTEMBER 3 10 a.m.–3 p.m., Etowah Lions Club, Hendersonville, North Carolina. y SEPTEMBER 4 Wears Valley United Methodist Church, near Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. y SEPTEMBER 11 5:30 p.m., Music of Appalachia (a University of Tennessee class), Laurel Theatre, Knoxville, Tennessee; potluck. y SEPTEMBER 11 11 a.m., Old Folks Day; Morning Star United Methodist Church, Canton, North Carolina. y SEPTEMBER 24 10:30 a.m.–3:30 p.m., Mountain Heritage Day, Western Carolina University, Outreach Center Gym, Cullowhee, North Carolina. y SEPTEMBER 25 10 a.m., Headrick Chapel Church, Wears Valley, near Pigeon Forge, Tennessee; potluck.

“The sound of it is what ﬁrst drew me in. There’s no other sound like it on Earth.”

— Andrew Whaley, fourth-generation shape-note singer

education, and that fell to the church and community.” He learned shape-note singing when he was a boy. “There’s deﬁnitely been a renaissance,” he adds. “In the early ’70s, there were only three or four singings a year; these days there’s one just about every weekend.” He admits a scene of shape-note singing that appeared in the movie Cold Mountain may have spurred some interest in the genre. But in the end, Nichols believes the beauty and “poetry of the genre” speaks for itself: “People are simply attracted to the music and want the tradition preserved.”

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BYWAYS Mountain Explorer

Highway through History BY M. LINDA LEE

ndulating through forests and farmland in what the Cherokee called the “Great Blue Hills of God,” the Cherokee Foothills Scenic Highway (SC Highway 11) crosses the Blue Ridge Escarpment from Gaffney to Fair Play, South Carolina. Its gentle curves trace part of the Upper Warriors Path, which the Cherokee blazed to connect their principal town of Keowee with the tribe’s Lower Towns in the days before the Europeans breached the Blue Ridge Mountains. Beginning on the eastern end, the two-lane National Scenic Byway passes Cowpens National Battleﬁeld, then coasts by peach orchards—a lovely sight in spring when the trees burst with pale pink blossoms. It intersects Greenville County’s Dark Corner, an

Built in 1820 from locally quarried stone, the Poinsett Bridge remains the oldest surviving bridge in South Carolina. Above: The Cherokee Foothills Scenic Highway winds through Upstate South Carolina along a path used by the Cherokees as well as English and French fur traders. UPCOUNTRY SOUTH CAROLINA

area shrouded in mystery and moonshine. Beyond, the highway continues in the shadow of the granite peaks of Glassy Mountain and Table Rock Mountain, arches over Lake Keowee, and skirts Lake Hartwell State Park just before joining Interstate 85. Short detours off Highway 11 lead to two superlative bridges. The Gothic brick arch of Poinsett Bridge, built in 1820 on the old toll road between Asheville and Charleston, is the state’s oldest span. South Carolina’s sole surviving covered bridge, 38-foot-long Campbell’s Covered Bridge, was built in 1909 across Beaverdam Creek. Elsewhere along the route, side roads wind up to Caesars Head, Jones Gap, and Devils Fork State Parks, and climb to Sassafrass Mountain, the highest point in South Carolina at 3,554 feet. “What I love about this highway is that all along its length you can see evidence of how the mountain people lived,” says historian Dean Campbell, who is known locally as the “Squire of Dark Corner.” From fruit farms and historic sites to waterfalls and hiking trails, it’s all accessible from Highway 11. “I’ve driven scenic highways all over the U.S.,” Campbell says, “and nowhere have I seen

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

Fall at Table Rock State Park. Left: An interpreter quilts at Hagood Mill Historic Site. UPCOUNTRY SOUTH CAROLINA

year-round Friday night fish fry accompanied by live bluegrass music, or stop by any time for some country cooking at lunch or dinner. 107 Country Creek Drive, Pickens. Two miles east of Table Rock State Park. 864.878.4366. auntsuescountrycorner.com.

MICHAEL GOULD

the number of natural and cultural sights that the Cherokee Foothills Scenic Highway packs into 112 miles.” With stops along the way, it’s easily a full day’s drive to tackle the entire length of highway. Listed from east to west, the highlights below can be found on the section between I-26 and Route 178, a more approachable distance of 42 miles.

admittedly a struggle to grow vinifera grapes in South Carolina, but the Jayne family has succeeded in producing some good wines from fruit grown on the mountainside about a mile off Highway 11. Treat yourself to a wine tasting, and stay to have lunch (pressed sandwiches, salads) on the airy terrace overlooking the vine-covered hillsides. 1360 S. Saluda Road, Cleveland (same turn as Aunt Sue’s). 864.878.5307. victoriavalleyvineyards.com.

UPCOUNTRY SOUTH CAROLINA

VICTORIA VALLEY VINEYARDS It’s

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THE RED HORSE INN Peace and privacy are hallmarks of his luxurious inn, located on 192 rolling acres of Greenville County hunt country (two miles off Highway 11; look for the sign after crossing Highway 14). The perfect perch for exploring the Cherokee Foothills Scenic Highway, the Red Horse offers six inn rooms and six private cottages, all of which come with a coffeemaker, minirefrigerator, microwave oven, and a pantry stocked with breakfast items. 45 Winstons Chase Court, Landrum. 864.895.4968. theredhorseinn.com.

AUNT SUE’S COUNTRY CORNER Steps off Highway 11, this rustic wooden complex of homespun craft shops dates to the late 1980s and includes a full-service restaurant and ice-cream shop. Join the crowd for the

TABLE ROCK STATE PARK A landmark along the Blue Ridge Escarpment, the sheer granite face of Table Rock Mountain (elevation 3,124 feet) can be seen from the Cherokee Foothills Visitor Center, nestled on the banks of Lake Oolenoy. Cherokee legend holds that a giant chieftain used the massive mountaintop as a table, and nearby Stool Mountain (to the right) for a seat. 158 Ellison Lane, Pickens. 864.878.9813. southcarolinaparks.com. HAGOOD MILL HISTORIC SITE & FOLKLIFE CENTER Five miles south on Route 178, this 1845 gristmill on Jennings Creek still grinds corn with its two 1,600-pound millstones, powered by a recently restored waterwheel. The site is also home to Hagood Creek Petroglyph Site, housing a group of Native American petroglyphs estimated to be between 1,500 to 2,000 years old. Celebrate local folklife the third Saturday of every month, when you can watch the mill grinding corn, enjoy live music, and explore the site’s two restored log cabins, blacksmith shop, cotton gin, and moonshine still. 138 Hagood Mill Rd., Pickens. 864.898.2936. visitpickenscounty.com.

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AROUND BACK AT ROCKY’S PLACE The Ultimate Folk Art Gallery in the South! Representing a plethora of self-taught artists. Best selection by artist “Cornbread” in the Universe! Established 2002. 3631 Hwy. 53 E. at Etowah River Rd. Dawsonville, Ga. • 706.265.6030 aroundbackatrockysplace.com Sat. 11-5; Sun. 1-5 BLUE RIDGE MOUNTAINS ARTS ASSOCIATION AT THE ART CENTER Come visit one of the largest fine art and fine craft gallery experiences in North Georgia at The Art Center. The Art Center is home to the Blue Ridge Mountains Arts Association and features multiple gallery spaces showcasing a variety of regional artists and one-of-a-kind artwork. 420 W. Main St. • Blue Ridge, Ga. 706-632-2144 • blueridgearts.net Tues.-Sun. 10-6

ADVERTISING SECTION

SOUTHERN APPALACHIAN MOUNTAINS

GUIDE

he Southern Appalachians have a rich artistic history. As long as folks have lived in these majestic landscapes, they’ve been molding, shaping and putting together items that serve not only practical purposes but also aesthetic ones, too. From weavers to potters, painters to metalsmiths, glassblowers to woodcrafters, these artisans reﬂect generations of heritage and innovation. Promoting and perpetuating this beauty are the galleries that are as unique and varied as the artists themselves.

EXPLORE

BURTON GALLERY Welcome to Burton Gallery, a northeast Georgia tradition of fine art and craft. Paintings, pottery, wood, jewelry, folk pottery, and other handmade work by local artists. 150 Burton Dam Rd. • Clarkesville, Ga. 704-947-1351 • burtongallery.net HICKORY FLAT POTTERY Watch potters at work daily in Historic Old Farmhouse. The gallery is connected to the studio. All pottery is functional stoneware, microwave, oven, and dishwasher safe. Cindy and Cody specialize in copper red glazes. The work of other artists, including pottery, stained and blown glass, jewelry, ﬁber, metal and wood is also represented. 13664 Hwy 197 N • Clarkesville, Ga. 30523 706.947.0030 • hickoryﬂatpottery.com MADISON COUNTY ARTS COUNCIL The Madison County Arts Council will present the fifth annual “Art On The Island Festival” on beautiful Blannahassett Island, downtown Marshall, Saturday, Sept. 24. This all-day affair presents artists, crafters, food, music, and kids activities from 10 a.m. until 5 p.m. and is free! madisoncountyarts.com MARK OF THE POTTER The oldest crafts shop in Georgia in the old Grandpa Watts’ Gristmill, celebrating over 45 years in the same location. Mark of the Potter features handcrafted pottery, a potter working weekends, and other crafts. Don’t miss the best view on the Soque River with generations of huge brown and rainbow trout (protected, of course). 706.947.3440 • markofthepotter.com MIMI’S ORIGINAL ART, INC. Representing self-taught artists that use impressionist styles, with vibrant and exciting colors captured on pillows, cards, coasters and more. You can entertain and decorate from favorite scenes and famous cities. mimioriginalart@gmail.com 386-265-6380

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SEVEN SISTERS GALLERY Discover something different at Seven Sisters Gallery, a staple in charming, historic Black Mountain since 1981. The gallery has one of the broadest ceramics collections available, plus furniture, original artwork, jewelry, and more. Everything is made in the U.S.; much of it is local. 117 Cherry St. • Black Mtn, NC 28711 828.669.5107 • 7sistersgallery.com Mon.-Sat. 10-6; Sun. 12-5

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SCENIC HIGHWAY 197 Beautiful Scenic Highway 197 starts in Clarkesville and follows the Soque River up to Lake Burton. Besides being voted the most beautiful scenic drive in Georgia, it has some of the best art in the state. Along the route one will find galleries, stained glass, folk art, a theatre, wine tastings, lodging, great restaurants, a marina, and even a realtor to find your perfect mountain getway. Shop, dine, stay and play on Scenic Highway 197! TPENNINGTON ART GALLERY Teresa Pennington is a self-taught colored pencil artist who renders, in amazing detail, the scenery and landmarks of western North Carolina and beyond. See her distinctive work at TPennington Art Gallery in downtown Waynesville, N.C. 15 North Main St. • Waynesville, N.C. 828.452.9284 • tpennington.com TWIGS AND LEAVES GALLERY Stroll down Main Street in Waynesville to find a unique gallery where art dances with nature. Browse through an unforgettable collection of nature-inspired works by 150 primarily regional artists and crafts persons. Take home a piece of art that echoes the wonder of nature. 98 N. Main St. • Waynesville, N.C. 828.456.1940 • twigsandleaves.com WAYNESVILLE GALLERY ASSOCIATION The Waynesville Gallery Association is represented by 9 unique galleries: Burr Studio, Cedar Hill Studio, Earthworks Gallery, Haywood County Arts Council’s Gallery & Gifts, The Jeweler’s Workbench, the mahogany house art gallery and studios, TPennington Art Gallery, Twigs and Leaves Gallery, and Village Framer. The group promotes and participates in Art After Dark which happens the first Friday evening May through December. waynesvillegalleryassociation.com THE WILLOWS POTTERY Creating functional handmade stoneware since 2003. Specializing in custom dinnerware and vessel sinks, we are proud to provide an excellent selection of locally made gifts. 7273 S. Main St. • Helen, GA 706.878.1344 • thewillowspottery.com

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Eva Surls. TIM KOERBER PHOTOGRAPHY

Anne Sontheimer. CHRIS PORT PHOTO

Lisa Rands. DONATED PHOTO

Anna Levesque. SCOTT MARTIN PHOTO

THE FACTOR B Y C O N S TA N C E E . R I C H A R D S

iving in the mountains doesn’t mean we’re all experts at being in the mountains. Scouting trails, rafting rushing rivers, bicycling through primordial forests—becoming truly one with the mountains tends to be reserved for a choice few. Fortunately, in and around Southern Appalachia, an array of expert guides are more than happy to help others connect more deeply with this place by climbing, mountain biking, rafting, kayaking, hiking, and more. But forget about the outdated notion of mountain men with their hand-chiseled walking sticks and dog-eared moleskin notebooks. The following local women lead their industries in outdoor adventure with grace and skill—inspiring men, women, and children with their leadership, experience, and patience.

THE ROCK STAR Lisa Rands, climbing coach

everal years ago, clinging to the side of a granite rock face high in the mountains, Lisa Rands faced a point of no return. Looking up at her next gear placement, ten feet above, the Chattanooga climber saw a blank and crumbly section of rock separating her from the next “zone of safety.” Some 35 feet below, her climbing partner and protective belay equipment hung too far away to protect her from a potential slip. “I had to complete the next sequence of moves without falling,” recalls Rands. “I had to shut out the thought of plummeting 80 feet down, then swing across the rough granite cliff.” A compact bundle of sinew and muscle, Rands delicately moved up, distributing her weight carefully on the poor holds. She reached her anchor point, belaying her climbing partner up

through the same moves. “As my partner was climbing through that same friable section, he grabbed a small ﬂake [area to grip in the rock] I had used both for my hand and then my foot,” she says. “As the hold broke, he teetered, and barely caught his balance to avoid falling. We looked at each other wide-eyed—knowing how thin that line was between success and disaster.” That keen mental focus, especially in the face of danger, is what helps top climbers such as Rands rise above the competition. It’s also what makes her an exceptional coach and guide in addition to being a formidable athlete in her own right. “This is something that I have trained over the years,” says Rands. “But until you are actually in a dangerous situation, you

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DONATED PHOTO

came after a moment of staying calm while being afraid was never know which reaction your body will have—fight or flight.” something I had never experienced before, but really enjoyed.” In addition to being a former open national champion, over the For college, she pursued a geology degree from Cal Poly course of her 25 years as a rock climber Rands has become the Pomona in Southern California. Rands first American woman to climb the elite knew she was hooked on climbing when bouldering grades known as V11 and V12 LISA RANDS she began scheduling her classes to allow as well as the first to win a Bouldering for a two-hour drive to climbing areas World Cup, in Lecco, Italy. She reached y WHAT: Rock climbing classes, such as Joshua Tree or Taquitz. Geology the rank of No. 1 in the world at outdoor guiding, and personal taught her about the properties of rocks, competitive bouldering and, in the coaching sessions. helping her, she believes, to more fully process, raised the bar for women’s y WHERE: High Point Climbing gain a comprehension of how to conquer climbing across the world. In 2015, she School at High Point Climbing and these natural obstacles. and her husband, Wills Young, moved Fitness, 219 Broad St., Chattanooga, A pivotal moment occurred when she to Chattanooga to run the climbing Tennessee won the U.S. Bouldering National school at downtown’s High Point y CONTACT: 423.602.7625 and Climbing Competition and decided to Climbing and Fitness Gym. 760.920.5348; quit her full-time job at a geotechnical Her love affair with rocks was carved highpointclimbing.com firm so she could pursue the life of a into stone long ago, as a little girl in professional rock climber—traveling for California. Always an outdoors lover, she outdoor rock climbing goals and climbing competitions. amassed a small collection of rocks. In high school, she began “I started traveling and climbing, winning competitions, and I climbing boulders. was kind of pushing women’s bouldering at that time, and it just “When I was introduced to the sport of rock climbing, I progressed into a career,” explains Rands. Her competitive realized it was the perfect sport for me,” she says. “Every new climbing career would take her far beyond the mountains of her climb presented a new mental and physical challenge on the side native California—from harsh and rugged mountain environs in of a pretty rock face in an outdoor arena. The adrenaline rush that

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

China to Patagonian and Australian peaks to the gritstone cliffs of England, and closer to home throughout North Carolina and Tennessee’s rock faces. She has forged bouldering paths in the emerging climbing area of Rocklands, South Africa, and teamed up with Canadian mountaineering and rock climbing legend Peter Croft to establish ﬁrst ascents in the Sierra backcountry. Drawing on her own nail-biting experiences, Rands encourages her climbing clients to work through their anxieties with an authenticity that can’t be faked. “Coaching the mental side of climbing—the ability to control your

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nerves and your fears—so you can relax your muscles and focus on good body positions, while continuing to breathe regularly and not freeze up, is the greatest challenge that I encounter while training people to climb,” says Rands, who has taken a break from competing to focus on her coaching. In addition to their work at Chattanooga’s High Point, Rands and her husband, Young, who coached her through many of her big wins, have become unofficial spokespeople for the unique outdoors scene of their adopted hometown. “There is balance that is required in all types of climbing, and there is the balance in everyday life that is required to become a good athlete while being a successful person in your everyday life,” Rands says. “Getting outside and enjoying and respecting nature is part of that balance.”

Switzerland Café and General Store Where European Charm meets Appalachian Comfort. Milepost 334 on the Blue Ridge Parkway in “Downtown” Little Switzerland.

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Top photo provided by the McDowell Tourism Authority

Anna Levesque, kayaking guide

nna Levesque lives to navigate choppy waters—whether maneuvering rapids on a kayak, gliding over waves on a stand-up paddle board, or facing the tumult of pursuing the male-dominated world of outdoor sports. To all her pursuits she brings the poise of a yoga teacher as well as the focus of a student of meditation—both of which she just so happens to add to her credentials. “Whitewater kayaking is a practice in facing and maneuvering through challenges,” says Levesque. “The river mirrors life. How I approach challenging rapids—the fear and self-doubt—is how I approach challenges in other areas of my life.” A member of the Canadian Freestyle Kayak Team from 1999 to 2003, Levesque earned a bronze medal at the Freestyle World Championships in 2001. Now based in Asheville, she has paddled in over ten countries around the world, placing in the top three in numerous freestyle competitions and extreme races during that time. Twelve years ago, she launched her company

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

SCOTT MARTIN PHOTO • SCOTTMARTINIMAGES.COM

THE WATER WARRIOR

Girls at Play, which specializes in whitewater kayaking instruction and trips for women. When she started whitewater kayaking ANNA LEVESQUE in 1994, she often found herself as the y WHAT: Everything from only woman introductory whitewater, stand-up paddling with paddle boarding, and SUP yoga groups of men, experiences in Asheville, North especially on more Carolina, to six-day wilderness trips difficult rivers. Her in Idaho and more advanced eightﬁrst encounter with day trips in Costa Rica and Ecuador. the sport was during Group size can be as small as onea summer job with a on-one private instruction or as rafting company in large as a twelve-person trip, Canada near her always with a five to one participant hometown. Though to instructor/guide ratio. she worked in the y WHERE: Girls at Play in Asheville, kitchen rather than North Carolina y CONTACT: 828.333.4482; on the water, she watergirlsatplay.com quickly fell in love with whitewater kayaking and the guide lifestyle that summer. “I was blown away by how the guides lived in the moment, lived joyfully, and really loved what they were doing for work,” Levesque says. She continued as a receptionist there the next year, and after graduating from UNC-Chapel Hill, spent the summer at a rafting company in West Virginia, ultimately completing her

THERE’S THE WAY YOU’LL REMEMBER THE RIVER. AND THE WAY YOUR KIDS WILL.

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“The river mirrors life. How I approach challenging rapids—the fear and self-doubt—is how I approach challenges in other areas of my life.” — Anna Levesque

raft guide training. She has never looked back. Since her early days on the water, she’s noticed a marked change in how many more women are kayaking. Large groups of women paddle together at events on challenging whitewater. Her original instructional video for women, Girls at Play, and her instructional tours have undoubtedly had a positive impact on women in the sport. Over the last four years, Levesque has added stand-up paddle boarding (SUP) and stand-up paddle board yoga classes to her repertoire. She also trains instructors for the American Canoe Association in stand-up paddle boarding and whitewater kayaking. She describes her coaching and guiding style as direct, yet compassionate, and says her unique background in whitewater kayaking, yoga, and personal transformation work has helped her develop tools that allow her to stay calm, trust herself, and focus on what she can control about a situation and know where she needs to let go. She prides herself on imparting those tools to others. Patience and the ability to stay calm—balanced with a direct approach that holds people to their commitments and goals—is her winning combination to staying at the top of her ﬁeld.

Her ultimate pursuit has become coaching people to lead fulﬁlled, healthy lifestyles combining all of her life’s teachings— whitewater kayaking, stand-up paddle boarding, yoga, and Ayurveda (a sister system to yoga with historical roots in India). Launched last year, her newest program, called Mind Body Paddle, takes place at the conﬂuence of Hominy Creek and the French Broad Rivers. Practicing yoga on stand-up paddle boards enhances balance, strength, and focus. “It is a very peaceful, mindful, active way to be outside and connect with nature,” Levesque says. She also teaches traditional yoga (on a mat, rather than a paddle board) and graduates this August from a program as a Ayurveda Wellness Counselor. “We are not separate from nature, although we like to think that we are,” says Levesque. “We are made up of the same stuff. Whitewater kayaking is a beautiful way to learn to dance and connect with the water. Stand-up paddle boarding is the closest we get to walking on water. It’s not about not giving up, but about letting go and allowing ourselves to connect with what is truly important to us.”

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

A hiking group led by A Walk in the Woods traverses the Appalachian Trail near Rocky Top. Left: Tour guide Esther Blakely shares her expertise of Cataloochee Valley in North Carolina. JAIMIE MATZKO PHOTO • CATALOOCHEE VALLEY TOURS PHOTO

Leading Ladies Check out these top tour companies run by women CATALOOCHEE VALLEY TOURS Master naturalist Esther Blakely of Waynesville, North Carolina, leads eco-tours into Cataloochee Valley of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. As a longtime volunteer with the Elk Bugle Corps, which offers presentations about the reintroduction of elk to Cataloochee, she discovered a need she was happy to fill: a way for visitors to discover the remote valley without having to navigate its curvy gravel entry on their own. Groups of five or smaller are transported in a hybrid SUV and practice responsible and ethical wildlife viewing practices. Featured tours include evening elk viewing, spring wildflower hikes, and synchronous firefly night walks. cataloocheevalleytours.com

VELO GIRL RIDES Black Mountain road cyclist Jennifer Billstrom has rarely met a challenge she didn’t tackle with enthusiasm—whether as a participant in the Assault on Mount Mitchell, a 102.7-mile ride that summits the highest point of the eastern United States; or as the creator of Cycle to Farm, a metric century group ride that connects local farms in Western North Carolina. As the cofounder of Velo Girl, she designs and leads group and custom rides on the Blue Ridge Parkway, Virginia’s Crooked Road, and other scenic roads of Southern Appalachia. velogirlrides.com

A WALK IN THE WOODS Outside magazine called Vesna Plakanis a “modern-day John Muir of the Smokies.” Along with her husband, Erik, Plakanis has been offering guiding services in the Smokies since 1998,

boasting to have helped some 73,500 people enjoy the national park. A TV reporter turned trail guide, Plakanis is an expert in everything from Cherokee legends to medicinal and edible uses of plants and animal tracking, as well as being a wilderness first responder and certified in non-lethal aversive bear conditioning. Services range from hiker shuttles to guided nature walks, backpacking trips, driving tours, classes and seminars, and “Women in Wilderness” trips. awalkinthewoods.com

RIVERGIRL FISHING CO. Fisheries biologist Kelly McCoy founded this full-service fishing and rental shop in an historic train depot in Todd, North Carolina, where Elk Creek joins the South Fork of the New River. The company’s motto—“Live. Learn. Fish!”—speaks to McCoy’s goal of helping customers enjoy the water while also teaching them how to be stewards of it. RiverGirl offers tubing trips, fly-fishing lessons and excursions, and boat and bicycle rentals. rivergirlfishing.com

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THE LIFE PRESERVER Anne Sontheimer, paddling instructor

“W

hat sport do you do?” That’s a typical conversation starter for Anne Sontheimer, who teaches and coaches rafting and kayaking skills at Nantahala Outdoor Center in Bryson City, North Carolina, where she has worked since the early 1990s. In her free time, she also mountain bikes, runs, skis, and otherwise lives and breathes the outdoor life. In other words, Sontheimer simply assumes that everyone she meets “does” a sport, too. To not challenge oneself in the elements is unthinkable for her. As one of the best instructors at Nantahala (now at its Paddling School), she has spent the past two and a half decades teaching scores of people—from beginners to swiftwater rescuers and experts in the field—to believe in themselves, adapt, be flexible, gain awareness, and enjoy themselves while doing it. “Winning and the pressure to win was not appealing to me,” says Sontheimer, who first came to paddling by way of canoeing in Pennsylvania, where she grew up, as well as while visiting relatives in North Carolina. In 1990 she participated in a pivotal Outward Bound course. The educational outdoor expedition program, which fosters personal growth and social skills of its participants, altered the course of her life. “That opened a lot of doors for me in showing what my role in a group is,” recalls Sontheimer, noting that she demonstrated early leadership skills. “It changed my path.” It was also the first exposure of truly challenging outdoor activity. As a child in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania,

y WHAT: Paddling lessons and courses (all skill levels) as well as private instruction and swiftwater rescue training. y WHERE: Nantahala Outdoor Center Paddling School, 13077 Highway 19 W, Bryson City, North Carolina y CONTACT: 828.785.5020; paddlingschool@noc.com; canoeandkayaklessons.com

CHRIS PORT PHOTO

ANNE SONTHEIMER

Sontheimer had lived a mostly urban childhood, participating in organized sports like ﬁeld hockey, softball, basketball, and maybe climbing the odd tree in the backyard. At the age of 19, she worked at NOC’s famed Slow Joe’s Cafe, where kayakers, rafters, hikers, mountain bikers, and daytrippers converge for a quick burger or taco overlooking the water. That experience introduced her to the guiding community, and she found the excitement of learning new skills and being on the water daily an intoxicating combination. Still, she led whitewater rafting tours for six years before getting in a kayak. Sontheimer continued to educate herself in whitewater on the Chatooga River in South Carolina, but kept coming back to the Nantahala. Besides guiding all over North Carolina and the United States, the athlete has taken groups on waters throughout Europe, South America, and the Caribbean. For a while, a typical year would

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PAUL VILLACORT PHOTO

“We’re akin to interpreters— I really consider myself more of a coach than an instructor.”

— Anne Sontheimer

include guiding here until November, selling Christmas trees until the holidays were over, and leaving for Costa Rica, Brazil, or Jamaica for international guiding until March. “I call what I do guided discovery,” says Sontheimer. Her charges range from 6 to 75 years old and from 40 to 350 pounds. Her own son is seven, and he’s already started rafting and kayaking under her guidance. Her four-year-old has yet to man a kayak but has certainly spent time on the water. “We’re akin to interpreters—I really consider myself more of a coach than an instructor,” she says. “It’s dynamic, and it’s about opening different doors. The water teaches people a lot.” Known as a tough teacher, Sontheimer says she backs off when her guests reach the point “where learning is based on fear” or being overwhelmed. She gives the example of her seven-year-

old not wanting to paddle with a spray skirt. The flexible cover for a kayak fitting around a rider’s waist, essentially connecting them with the vessel, can make some people feel claustrophobic or hemmed in. “So you take what’s making them afraid and peel off the layers,” she says. Later she will reintroduce those elements, once the paddler has reached a comfort level. Sontheimer’s guiding style contains a good deal of logic, giving folks lots of choices, and laying out what the variables in such a dynamic environment can be. Quite often, a more experienced or intermediate kayaker won’t want to “swim” out of a tough spot. In other words, they’d rather use their training to roll out of the situation (righting themselves in the kayak even if they are upside down). “For guests it’s often about their ego,” she explains. “ If you can’t get out of a roll, you have to make the conscious decision to swim, or your body makes it for you. In skiing or mountain biking there’s no choice—you fall off.” Sontheimer’s philosophy means encouraging clients to be flexible in that environment. “You get to watch that evolution, and it makes you more dynamic and more forgiving. There should be no judgment. In nature there is only feedback.”

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

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THE SPIN DOCTOR Eva Surls, mountain biking guide

va Surls will be the ﬁrst to tell you that she was a sickly child. Today the co-owner of the Bike Farm near Brevard, North Carolina, leads half-day and all-day trail rides at difficult technical endurance levels for pros and beginners alike. Growing up, Surls was in and out of the emergency room from asthma attacks and severe allergies. Yet that hardly stopped her from riding around the hills and dirt roads of her East Texas home and eventually the mountains of Colorado, where her family moved when she was in her teens. “I was one of those kids who always wanted to be outside,” says Surls. “But it was problematic.” Thanks to her Colorado high school that placed a premium on outdoor education, class trips centered on backpacking, cycling trips, hiking, and other encounters with nature, which slowly built up Surls’s stamina. At 16 she discovered yoga at a local recreation center. “With that,” she says, “the doorway to holistic preventive medicine was opened and I’ve never turned back.”

Her early health challenges, in fact, influenced her decision to study alternative healing. She graduated from New York University with a degree in Integrative Health focusing on Somatic Practices, then returned to Colorado to attend massage therapy school as a logical continuum. It also quenched her thirst for getting back outdoors. When she met her future husband, Cashion Smith, their first date was “lady’s choice.” She found herself saying the words “mountain biking,” an activity she had yet to try. “I was so frustrated and challenged on that first ride and I loved it,” recalls Surls. “ I realized that in that frustration I was totally independent. It was up to me to make it up the hill. That challenge to myself, while frustrating, was exhilarating. I was seeing what I was made of and what I could accomplish.” To master this intense sport, she applied all she had learned over the years— including dance training from her days in New York City, her many years of yoga, and the need for speed. “I had always been someone who liked to go fast and [mountain biking] hit that part of me,” says Surls. She liked it so much so that she broke her hand in the first month, which taught her another valuable lesson. “Right after I told my husband he should go faster, I was on the ground with cactus in my face and a gnarly broken hand. We were outside of Boulder, so I went ahead and got back on the bike and balanced my wrist on the handlebar and rode back down a difficult descent,” she explains, having listened to her husband who didn’t think the hand was broken. At the ER the next morning, the intake nurse whisked Surls away as soon as she saw the hand EVA SURLS dangling at an odd angle. y WHAT: Guided half, full, and multi“That was the start day (private) mountain bicycling of mountain biking rides in Pisgah National Forest and teaching me to listen DuPont State Recreational Forest. to myself,” Surls y WHERE: The Bike Farm, says. “I really know 160 Sutton Creek Road, what’s best, and it Pisgah Forest, North Carolina will tell me how y CONTACT: 828.577.3673; much farther I can go bikefarmpisgah.com and push myself or if I need to stop. The days of listening to my husband were then over.” These hard-earned lessons have made Surls into the leader she is now. She and Smith and their team run bike tours into Pisgah National Forest and Dupont State Forest. The Bike Farm is a comprehensive guide service, bicycle-centric eco-resort, and base

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

camp for cyclists from beginners to highly-seasoned professionals. Pros sometimes want to visit the area and be set up with a quick ride: Surls will be their eyes and ears, adjusting to their speed and technical capacity. Other clients are families or individuals up for a challenge. “I don’t just want to take people out and watch them struggle,” she says. “Most of our rides are a blend of a skills lesson and a guided ride. We have folks on their ﬁrst mountain bike ride to a group of guides who travel everywhere together and don’t want to look at a map, so it’s like showing up and riding the trail with a friend.”

“Supporting people as they face [their] beliefs and fears, that’s the biggest challenge as a leader.” — Eva Surls

Surls knows the frustration of not being able to keep up. Beginning at age 24, she rode with a cyclist at a higher skill level who had been racing for years. “It was not fun until I realized it was a really an individual sport and was up to me to gain the ﬁtness and technical ability to keep up.” Surls feels well-equipped to handle all sorts of hurdles that trip up would-be cyclists. “The most serious challenge has been overcoming personal beliefs about what we are capable of,” she says. “Supporting people as they face those beliefs and fears, that’s the biggest challenge as a leader— they get out in the woods and have a meltdown…get off their bike and say, ‘I’m not sure I can do this.’ It’s a moment of frustration that I know so well. “The biggest change I see is their energy shift,” she continues. “There is a kind of a calm about them. What most often in the beginning is a tense energy—they are nervous about the experience they are about to have or maybe [they] rushed to get here—turns into a relaxed sense.” Constance E. Richards is proﬁled on page 13.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

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Ola Belle Reed, 1966. HENRY GLASSIE PHOTO

OLA BELLE REED:

From the Blue Ridge to the Mason-Dixon Line 64

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 â&#x20AC;¢ ISSUE 4

Blue Ridge Mountain Blues

ifty years ago, when she was ﬁfty, Ola Belle Reed looked back to tell the story of her life. For months we had been recording her songs. Now it was time for her life. She tells ﬁrst about her family, a family famed for music, then lingers emotionally on her childhood, passed on the banks of New River in the high Blue Ridge of Ashe County, North Carolina. She remembers the hard times of the Depression when her family left the mountains and sought work in the north, along the Mason-Dixon Line in Maryland and Pennsylvania. There she cleaned the houses of other women and muffled the pain of home-sickness by performing with other migrants from Ashe County in the North Carolina Ridge Runners. After her younger brother Alex returned BY HENRY GLASSIE from the Second World War, the two of them formed their own country band, the New River Boys and Girls. When we met in 1966, Alex and Ola Belle had recorded for Starday and they were broadcasting weekly from the big store, Campbell’s Corner, they managed in Oxford, Pennsylvania. We began then to record her repertory of Appalachian songs, and I helped Ola Belle establish the solo career that would lead to a National Heritage Fellowship in 1986, shortly after Bill Monroe and Ralph Stanley were similarly honored. Ola Belle died after a long illness in 2002. Six years later, Cliff Murphy found my old tapes and began to track Ola Belle’s legacy, recording her son, her nephews, and other musicians who played Appalachian music in Maryland, Delaware, and Pennsylvania. We gathered another colleague, Doug Peach, and the three of us produced a book, Ola Belle Reed and Southern Mountain Music on the Mason-Dixon Line, published by Dust-toDigital in Atlanta, and carrying two CDs, one from my tapes of 1966-67, the other from Cliff’s recordings of 2008-14. What follows is the book’s third chapter, containing Ola Belle’s memories, transcribed from the tapes on which she described Appalachian life.

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It is springtime in Pennsylvania, the tape is rolling, and Ola Belle has shifted in the story of her life from her family to her place, the place of her childhood in the mountains. Together we are exploring the landscape of memory. She takes sweet, wistful pleasure in describing the mountain life of the past. My concern is less with the objective facts of the past than it is with the subjective facts of the present, the way that Ola Belle’s talk of her place, like her talk of her family, reveals the thought of the mature singer I know, the woman whose songs I have recorded, whose artistry I admire. What interests me is how nostalgia can become a critical, oppositional position. My master in this matter was on old man in Ireland, Hugh Nolan. He was born in 1896 and lived in the two rooms of the house his grandfather built. A poor farmer and a saint, he had witnessed great changes, and as the revered historian of his place, Ballymenone, he taught that the hard life of the past brought people together. In the bad old days, before electricity and the internal combustion engine, people worked together in the fields and gathered at night in the ceili to chat and sing. The hard life of the past, he argued, brought social order, but the soft life of the present, the life of lonely labor, automotive travel, and silence, has brought social disorder. Ola Belle thought like that. The problem today, she has told us, is a lack of togetherness. For both Ola Belle and Alex, the hard life of the past was captured in memories of their maternal grandparents, the Osbornes, who lived just to the north in the mountains of Grayson County, Virginia, in a cabin with a dirt floor. Their grandfather, Cicero, armed himself and trekked out to buy the few things they needed: salt, gunpowder, and lead to mold bullets. He hunted his meat and butchered slain beasts in the house, so the bears and wildcats would not be drawn by the scent of blood. Their grandmother, Darthula, burned corncobs to get the ash needed to make bread rise. She used a spinning wheel to make yarn, and she was a lovely singer from whom Ola Belle learned old songs. They had thirteen children. When Alex and Ola Belle were among the thirteen in the next generation, they lived during the summers in a cabin of two rooms, with one chimney and opposed front and back doors, the ancient Irish form, translated from stone to timber on the frontier. One of Ola Belle’s memories of that house can serve as an Appalachian emblem. Time and again, mountain people have told me of this experience: when it rained, the wooden shingles of the roof swelled to prevent leaks, but dry snow filtered through the cracks to powder the quilts of the sleepers beneath. In turning her memory into words, Ola Belle begins to counter the attitudes she knows others hold about life in the mountains: “In the wintertime, when the wind blows and it snows, if there’s a crack anywhere, the snow will come in. And I have woke up many mornings—we’d have our heads covered up—knowing that when we lifted it, the snow would trickle in on us. “And you know, it didn’t make us miserable. It didn’t make us feel bad.

Belle, seeking reasons, “And when we jumped out, understands as the consequence boy, we lit for the other room of what others call progress. where the fire was, and I can What is good about look back, and I don’t see that hardship, for Ola Belle, is that our life was miserable.” it leads to togetherness, an old If it was not miserable, it was mountain virtue. Her theme of certainly hard, demanding unity and its connection to courage and bringing people difficulty runs into her account into generous connection: of the church. Church “Talk about enduring and meetings provided excitement, endurance, they really had it, and religion encouraged and on my grandmother’s side, endurance: I know that when they lived on “All in all, I think the life dirt floors—they were one of down there—well, we at night the first families—I know that we used to go wherever we they, well, they had to have wanted to go; we used to walk each other. They had to live to meetings. They’d have a close together because, I mean, revival meeting miles away. We people had to help each other.” didn’t think anything of Another time, trusting her walking five miles. Get memory and contradicting together and go. And negative opinion, she spoke of everybody went. the human understanding that “The church meetings back drew mountain people together: then was something that I “You don’t change that would just say, actually, was much. I could stay away from out of this world. Whether they the mountains a lifetime, and I were right, whether they were can still see, know, feel the wrong, they were devoted, things that I grew up with. And dedicated, because they felt our way of life was embedded that when they went to the into you so strong that you just church, they felt that they had naturally knew it. You didn’t something more to live for, have to be told. more to hang on to, because “You don’t have to be told, Alex and Ola Belle Reed at the time they were playing on radio station WASA in life was, if you look at it right, it and really and truly, a lot of Havre de Grace, Maryland, and at the New River Ranch, a country music park near was hard. Survival. It was really people might think that the way Rising Sun, Maryland, managed by Alex, Ola Belle, and Bud Reed. HENRY GLASSIE PHOTO hard, but it surely was great.” of life in the mountains was so Setting aside the experience of her “And they shared with the others. It was a horrible—but the thing they had for each grandfather, the fiddling preacher Alexander sharing kind of life.” other. They had love for each other, as human Campbell, Ola Belle describes the church as It was, you can be sure, more, and less, than beings. They had understanding, a source and locus of togetherness, a unity a sharing kind of life. There had to be the kind compassion. now lost: of neighborly nastiness, familial friction, and “And if I would be away a hundred years, I “Now, we used to go to church. personal desperation that Patrick Kavanagh don’t think I’d ever forget a minute of it.” Everybody went; in our country most described for his rural place in Tarry Flynn and Love brought collective generosity. “If everybody went. You didn’t have to belong to The Great Hunger. But Ola Belle stressed anybody really didn’t have anything to eat,” go, and you didn’t have to be what they call a generosity, remembering her grandfather she said, “well, the neighborhood mostly Christian to go. buying shoes for the family of a poor neighbor, would see that they did have something. “We just went. We all sang. Everybody sang. remembering her father giving Christmas gifts, And they’d share what little they had.” Later “We were together. And it’s like the song I little paper bags full of fruit and candy, to all she elaborated: sing about the little church called the shelter. the kids in the neighborhood. And she fixes on “You’ve heard the old statement, I neither They’d sing and praise the Lord together. sharing to reveal, like Hugh Nolan, the benefit lend nor borrow. If we ran out of something— “That’s how they felt. They were all in hardship, and, like him, to register her see, we didn’t live close to a store—or if we ran welcome. complaint about the present. In his case, social out of anything, we had no trouble atall. “We had a togetherness that I don’t think disorder had led to violence in the time of the Maybe it might be a mile to a neighbor’s that I have ever seen again. In our Irish Troubles. In her case, the lack of house, but we borrowed. And we took back community, if there was somebody that didn’t togetherness had created the gulf between the the same amount that we borrowed. have, regardless of the reason—maybe the rich and the wretched in America, and the “And, to me, that was kind of a wonderful father didn’t work, maybe the father was an disruption of unity by greed and prejudice had thing, because people sort of looked after each alcoholic, but that didn’t alter the fact that the caused many, feeling unloved, to drift into the other. I mean, together they kind of looked children were hungry.” anti-social acts that others call bad, but Ola after each other. 66

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They all sang together at church, and that experience, the familiar onflow from the shape-note singing schools of the past, made possible the tight harmonies of bluegrass in the future. When the voices of Alex, Ola Belle, and Burl blend easily, naturally on the stage at Campbell’s Corner, something sacred runs in the undertone of their union. During a late session in our series on mountain life, I asked Ola Belle to talk about the music back then. She said they sang at “house-to-house get-togethers,” at parties, bean stringings, and corn shuckings, and they played for square dances. She continued: “When we’d play music it would just mostly be for a group of people to listen to. And I can remember I used to go to different houses and stay all night, you know. They’d invite me to stay all night and play music. And then somebody else would play, and we used to dance. I used to do the Charleston.” She laughs and goes on: “Our type of music is a sort of togetherness type of music. And most everybody—I mean, maybe, even if they weren’t professionals, they would play a little bit, and it’s passed on from one to another. “And even now, as old as I am, at fifty-one, every once in a while a song will come back to me that I have completely forgotten, that nobody does, that is not recorded. And I’ll work on it in my own mind to remember, and eventually I’ll remember that song because it’s a type of music that gets embedded, you know, right in your very soul, I guess you’d say. “And, course they had medicine shows, but if you recall where I came from, there wasn’t many towns, too many towns. It was a mountainous type of country. They used to get together and play music. Not for no reason other than the enjoyment of it. And that’s how it got spread around. “My father always played music. He was a school teacher; he played an organ, one of the old-fashioned organs, and he played a fiddle, and he played a very good clawhammer banjo. And then on my father’s side, my uncle played, and on my mother’s side, my mother’s people, there was music in their generation. “And I think they played for enjoyment, rather than for money, and that’s how they kept it alive. “And as time went on, music, as you know, naturally, the songs got changed because possibly, maybe, they wouldn’t sell as much if they did them the old, unadulterated way. “And I’ll tell you another thing that’s very important. They used to have in the churches, you know, gospel music. In the churches. And they used to have prayer meetings in 68

homes and everybody sang, see. In the home. Not just me: everybody. “And they also had what they called— today they’d call it association, but back those days they called it the sociation of churches, in other words, people’d come from churches all over, and they’d have dinner on the ground. They’d have gospel music. “And everybody got together, and most types of get-together had some kind of music. “And people mostly enjoyed playing this sort of music. Because it was their music. It was music of their land.” Settlement on her mountainous landscape was dispersed in the pastoral manner. Houses stood amid the ﬁelds where the cattle grazed. They stood apart from one another, and apart from the plain white churches that also stood alone. Togetherness was not as easy as it was in the English agricultural village where the farmhouses clustered tightly around the parish church. It took effort, compelled by need, driven by the desire to travel long distances

“We didn’t really need for much, but one thing we had that sometimes it’s hard to ﬁnd today was peace of mind. Let me say freedom of mind.” and join in making a togetherness type of music, the lonesome sound of their land. Sometimes her mood was emotional and blue, sometimes she seemed as cool as any historian reporting the facts of the past, but by considering the virtue of togetherness in relation to difficulty and desire, Ola Belle had one way to arrange her memories of the Blue Ridge and shape them into a critique of modern times. Interlinked with that rhetorical move, she had another. She countered views of mountain life as miserable with memories of her own. It wasn’t so bad. They had enough to eat and clothes to wear: “Every part of the country had different foods. Every place has its own kind. They had different kinds in different places. They are given to cooking different things. Let’s say, over in Italy they have spaghetti. “Well, down where I came from, when I grew up, we had very few potatoes. We had beans. We had corn bread, we had biscuits. SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

We had milk. Good wholesome food. “We didn’t starve. That’s one thing. We did not have the many things we have on the table today, but we had enough. Because my mother said, A good cook is a woman who can take what she has, and make something for her family to eat out of it. Not one that has everything in the book to take out of a can. “We moved into town in the fall of the year when school starts. And of course there would be five or six of us going to school at the same time. “Now, we had clothes enough, nothing fancy, and we had enough to eat. We had plenty to eat, but we didn’t have the things they have now. And I can remember one thing that I was very hungry for was sweet things.” The place she remembers is the cabin by the river where they lived in the summer, working on the farm that supplied their wholesome food. There were fields of corn. There was an orchard, and twice in our talks Ola Belle paused to praise the apples, red or yellow, big and sweet. They gathered greens along the banks of the river, and from the mountains above they gathered wild raspberries, wineberries, elderberries, thornberries, huckleberries, and big sweet dewberries; they gathered hog plums, fox grapes, possum grapes, chicken grapes, and crab apples. She remembered: “We grew a lot of our food. As I told you before, we grew a lot of our tame food in the summertime, and then we gathered wild on the mountains, just a wonderful lot of wild foods like blackberries. They were large and sweet, and they even grew in shaded places, you know. We used to go out with two or three buckets in the morning, and maybe not come back till after dinner with them full.” The place was a cabin by the river. When Doug Peach and I were wandering Ashe County, we met Austin Miller who lived beside the North Fork of New River and directed us to the site of the Campbell home. A relative of his, Lester Miller, played with Ola Belle in the North Carolina Ridge Runners, and Mr. Miller, who was born in 1939, had heard Alex and Ola Belle play in Maryland. Beside a narrow back road there is a big flat rock where, he told us with slight conviction, Ola Belle used to sit to compose her songs. Below the rock at the riverside, no trace remains of the old house, but the topography is telling. There is little level land for farming. Mountains rise abruptly, densely wooded now, from both banks of the North Fork of New River. The time Ola Belle remembers is when she was big enough to handle serious

How Long Can One Singer Endure?

n 2009, seven years after the death of Ola Belle Reed, Maryland state folklorist Clifford Murphy set out to unearth how her mountain music was playing out in the small Maryland, Delaware, and Pennsylvania towns where her music had flourished after her family left the Southern Appalachians during the Great Depression. Murphy found Reed’s authentic brand of old-time mountain music alive and well along the Mason-Dixon Line. His audio recordings documenting her modern-day musical descendants accompany Dust to Digital’s biography, Ola Belle Reed and Southern Mountain Music, along with a CD of her 1960s recordings. Here Murphy shares his take on what makes Reed’s legacy rise above the noise. What makes Ola Belle Reed stand out? Ola Belle stands out in at least three ways—her prolific songwriting, her distinctive banjo style, and her prominence in the region she called home. The role of women in early country music has really been given short shrift by mainstream histories of the music. There is an impression that women didn’t get involved in country music until the 1950s, and that they were (and are) passive participants in the process of making, writing, arranging, and performing country music. Ola Belle’s life story really blows that up. She was not the only women of her time to achieve prominent, regional significance, but she is one of the most documented and interesting. Her influence was not bound by gender, either. There is a very long line of prominent men in country music who have been influenced by Ola Belle’s style, outlook, and songwriting, including Del McCoury and Marty Stuart. What’s the biggest impact of Reed’s music? I really have no doubt that Ola Belle Reed’s original songs will be her most impactful and enduring musical legacy. “High on a Mountain,” “I’ve Endured,” “Tear Down the Fences,” and “Sing Me a Song” are standards in bluegrass and Americana music circles. Henry Glassie makes a compelling argument in the book that these songs are meaningful to so many because they were borne of a process very much tied to traditional repertoire and community experience rooted in the southern mountains.

How do her values play into her legacy? Ola Belle’s son, Dave Reed, and many of the people who were closest to Ola Belle, would say that her most important contribution to the world was her generosity and selflessness. She was known as someone who would provide a safe harbor for the most destitute, vulnerable, and disenfranchised. Her home was constantly full of young people seeking refuge from abuse, or people seeking to connect to her nurturing wisdom. She had a very strong moral compass that seems to have been established during a rather difficult, if nurturing, childhood. That moral compass also orients her songs—both her originals

What surprised you most while working on this project? How strong Ola Belle’s musical influence was—and is—on men. There are prominent and important women in country, folk, and Americana music who point to Ola Belle as an inspiration: Hazel Dickens and Alice Gerrard, Cathy Fink and Marcy Marxer, the group Olabelle, and others. Country music history had instilled in me a false impression that women influenced women, but not so much men. I was happily dissuaded of this now seemingly obvious false impression while carrying out the fieldwork for this project. I was amazed to hear how powerful Ola Belle’s influence was on men like Danny Paisley, TJ and Bobby Lundy and their

The first performance of “You Led Me to the Wrong.” Sonny Miller, Burl Kilby, OLa Belle Reed, Alex Campbell. Campbell’s Corner. February 6, 1966. HENRY GLASSIE PHOTO

If anything, [Ola Belle] was consistently drawn towards providing comfort—either in her home, in conversations, or most enduringly in songs. and the older songs that she sang most often: songs such as “Six Feet of Earth” and “In the Springtime of Life.” On the surface, these are songs about coping with loss, but at their heart they are stinging critiques of materialism and the pursuit of financial wealth and power. Ola Belle was not impressed with money, or with people who had lots of money. If anything, she was consistently drawn towards providing comfort—either in her home, in conversations, or most enduringly in songs—to people who had little or no money.

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fathers (Bob Paisley and Ted Lundy), Del McCoury, Dave Reed, Zane and Hugh Campbell, and many, many others along the Mason-Dixon Line. Their commitment to tradition and to authentic selfexpression in original songs is something that was clearly nurtured by Ola Belle, and these men pass her stories and influence down to their daughters and sons. And while some of that influence is musical, much of it is also her political and spiritual outlook, which always had its eye on the marginalized, on issues of injustice, and on equality, tolerance, and acceptance.

responsibilities. Ola Belle was born in the middle of the thirteen; “I diapered six” is how she put it. She recalls taking babies from her bed to the bed of her mother when they needed feeding. Her mother, she said, “nursed all the babies at the breast. They were fat, quiet, healthy babies; they were satisfied. There was a satisfaction in those babies that you don’t find with a bottle baby.” Work on the farm was a duty, but within it she found feelings of contentment: “We had a cow and we milked the cow, and I have many, many times gone to the milk gap myself, and you know there was always a warm, comfortable feeling, sitting on an old bucket, milking the cow. “And you just don’t capture these feelings. People couldn’t imagine that never went through something like that. You couldn’t imagine how those things feel. When you go to bed at night, you’re tired, you’re weary. You can sleep. “And in our house, in our house I used to take about two or three of the kids to sleep with me, the smallest ones. And we had plenty of covers, understand, but no heat in the one room.” The work was hard, but it was relieved by instants of play, and at the end came the nourishing delight of dinner: “In the summertime when we raised our corn, we’d go to the field in the morning to hoe. You might have used a cultivator plow, but it was mountainside”—too steep—“and you couldn’t do very good with it. “And lots of times they had what you called new ground. We cleared off the trees, and in the spring of the year you’d have to take a hoe and chop the roots, because you didn’t get them all grubbed out. And that sometimes raised the best of corn of any ground, because it was rich. “We would hoe corn until dinnertime. And you walk off the mountain with your knees aknocking for dinner. “Dinner to us came in the middle of the day, and we’d walk off the mountain with our knees a-knocking, and head for the river. We’d go swimming, and we’d come back to the house, and we’d eat our dinner.” What strikes the listener is how an older child in a big family has to assume responsibility early, how the child of an alcoholic has to grow up quickly and take control. What strikes Ola Belle about her childhood was the absence of fear. They roamed the mountains without fear: “We used to get just literally lost in the mountains. We were right at home. We weren’t afraid of anything. We had snakes, 70

we had copperheads, and they were very deadly, but I think they were more or less afraid of us.” They played on the river without fear: “We used to have a ﬂat-bottom boat, made out of wood, and you didn’t use oars. You poled it on New River. “The one thing that I look back on a lot of times: we weren’t afraid. Nothing. Nighttime, daytime, no other time. Many times we took a blanket outside and slept outside when it was warm because there was very little dampness and no mosquitoes. “And I used to take the kids, and put them in the boat, and take them up the river, and pole it with the boat pole. “We played in that river. We swam in it.” Another time Ola Belle said: “I think the good Lord looked after all the

“A lot of people might think that the way of life in the mountains was so horrible— but the thing they had for each other. They had love for each other, as human beings. They had understanding, compassion. youngsters down there, because we used to ride boats up and down a rough river. “Danger? You didn’t seem to know danger. You weren’t afraid of the things you’re afraid of today. And I think sometimes that has a lot to do with the fact: they let us go, and they let us come.” They were not sucked into an environment of fear by the mass media, by the reports of murders and houses in ﬂames, of famines and disasters in faraway lands, that turn people into frightened consumers of things they don’t need. She recalled: “See, we didn’t have no radio. There were no radios. There was no way of communication. “Naturally, we didn’t worry about world affairs, because maybe after something had happened, it would be six months, maybe, before you’d hear it. And really and truly, you didn’t bother yourself with it because you didn’t know about it.” SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

In Ola Belle’s youth, rural music of the kind she played was being broadcast, and in time the radio would become a force for unifying and spreading the sound, but ninety percent of the houses in the South lacked radios when she was a child, and there were none, she said, in her place. Her music was grounded in a time of face-to-face gatherings in homes and churches. Here is her summary statement: “To me, the life in the mountains was great. People possibly today if they could see how we actually lived, they would probably think it was terrible; they would think it was horrible. “But we didn’t know any different. We lived. Even when I was a girl, the things that we didn’t have, we didn’t know we were supposed to have them. “We didn’t really need for much, but one thing we had that sometimes it’s hard to ﬁnd today was peace of mind. Let me say freedom of mind. “Because we didn’t actually know the things that go on out in the world. “Our life in the mountains was good. We didn’t look for or expect very much, because to us it was a way of life, and the only way of life we knew.” Growing up and moving north, Ola Belle has learned about other ways of life, other cultures. Mountain life, with its hardships and togetherness, its work and play and freedom from fear, has become, for her, one of many possibilities. They had beans and corn bread; Italians have spaghetti. What is right for her is not necessarily right for others. She has attained a mature cultural relativism, bringing her to new appreciation for her own culture and respect for the ways of others. It was 1967. We were speaking in the time of civil rights demonstrations and youthful unrest. Ola Belle sympathized with African Americans who, she said, were being treated nearly as badly as her people were when they moved north, and she sympathized especially with the young people who, she said, were once criticized for showing no interest in politics but are now criticized for paying attention to politics and rallying against the war in Vietnam. The young are tired of hypocrisy; Ola Belle sees how angry people the world over could become rebellious. Seeking to understand others, she has come, by contrast, to a fuller and deeper understanding of the culture of her youth, and Ola Belle is saddened by people from the mountains, including members of her own family, who struggle to distance themselves from their past. But she is proud, determined not to change. She said:

Dave, Ola Belle, and Bud Reed on the set of WMAR-TV (CBS) in Baltimore, Maryland, 1975. MARYLAND STATE ARCHIVES PHOTO

“They always say to me—I take it as a compliment—they say to me, Ola Belle, you haven’t changed. “And, you know, I haven’t tried. “I mean, I have maybe, as I’ve growed older, become a bit more mellow, and maybe I appreciate the facts of being back then”— the mountain culture—“ more today than I ever did in my life. “Because a lot of people say, If it hadn’t’ve been for my background, I could’ve done something. “Well, if it hadn’t’ve been for my background, I don’t think I would’ve cared to live. Because the important things that happened in my past, they’re with me today. And not only me. I’m talking mostly of myself, but I’m not just speaking for myself. I’m speaking for a lot of the people. “Truly, a lot of the people would like to be normal, natural everyday people, but they have to put up a face. That’s the hardest thing in the world: to have to put up a face. “To be honest with yourself, just be honest with yourself. My father used to say, If you want to be somebody, quit trying to be somebody: be yourself, and you are somebody.”

To be yourself is the advice she wants. She attributed that advice to me on the Folkways album My Epitaph. My grandmother, who, like Ola Belle’s father, taught all the grades in a one-room school and played the pump organ in a little country church in Virginia, always said that there’s no need to forget the past while you go forward. “Your background,” Ola Belle said, “is all you have; it starts you off.” Accepting direction from the principal of her high school in North Carolina, Ola Belle has gone ahead, claiming the right to speak for the people of the Southern Mountains. This is a key memory: “I could learn when I grew up without trying. I don’t know how it come about, but I never had to study like other kids. I could read a poem once and recite it. I could remember; it wasn’t hard for me at all. “And the teacher, she told me that she never remembered that I—I saw her a few years back, my teacher—she told me, I never remember you being a little girl. You were always a little old lady. “And her husband, the principal, told the graduating class. Now, I didn’t graduate. I WWW.SMLIV.COM

lacked about four months, but the year before my sister did. And I was there, and he told the graduating class: “He said, Children, you’re going out in a world that you know nothing about, very little about. And he said, I feel that you have done well here—in his speech to the graduating class—and he said, There’s one thing that I want to impress upon your minds. He said, Never be ashamed of your background. That’s your foundation. Never be ashamed, he said, of the hands that worked hard to put you through. “And I never forgot that, because I know people now that were born and raised where I was born and raised, that don’t know about their place.” Ole Belle knew about her place, her place in the Blue Ridge. There she learned the lessons of life from which she shaped an inner vision, more morally coherent than historically accurate. And there she learned the music that nurtured her creative soul. Excerpted with permission from Ola Belle Reed and Southern Mountain Music on the Mason-Dixon Line, published by Dust-toDigital. Glassie is proﬁled on page 13. 71

Mile High Swinging Bridge. HUGH MORTON PHOTO

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 â&#x20AC;¢ ISSUE 4

Grandfather s â&#x20AC;&#x2122; KEEPER A Q&A with Randy Johnson

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n North Carolina’s High Country, 5,945-foot Grandfather Mountain attracts travelers from around the world, especially to join the kilt-wearing masses at the annual Highland Games or to take in the 360-degree views from its Mile High Swinging Bridge (America’s highest suspension footbridge). But few people know the distinctive peak as well as Randy Johnson. He launched Grandfather Mountain’s modern trail system in 1978 and served as backcountry manager until 1990. The Boone hiker and author has four hiking guides to Southern Appalachia under his belt. Now Johnson has written the deﬁnitive guide to the mountain and its history through the ages— from its geological formation and early exploration to its 20thcentury development as a tourist attraction. Published this summer by the University of North Carolina Press, the nearly 300-page book also offers a practical guide to hiking and photographing the mountain, complete with maps, details on views, and difficulty ratings. Here, Johnson shares a few highlights of the book and his favorite mountain. What makes Grandfather the “quintessential Appalachian summit,” as you call it? Grandfather has uniquely epitomized or experienced just about every natural distinction or form of human-induced destruction that any other Appalachian summit can claim. It’s the most ecologically significant peak in the East, bar none, a tiny spot relative to Great Smoky Mountains National Park but with more rare and endangered species. Its peak-to-base relief is one of the East’s most Rocky Mountain-like elevation changes, from Canadian zone to piney woods piedmont. With an almost

alpine, craggy character akin to New England, it’s the southernmost summit of the north and the northernmost peak in the south. It was logged, but more lightly (and less industrially) than most, so its niche ecosystems survived. It’s protected by a national forest (the East’s first, Pisgah), the North Carolina state park system, The Nature Conservancy, even a private

fascinating tourism tale of private ownership where the pendulum swung from commercialism and development to eventually settle on the side of public ownership for most of the mountain. Those are important characters in the book, and I tell that modern history in greater depth than it’s been told—but frankly, to me, the most interesting stories are the dozens of other people, explorers and scientists, conservationists, so many folks who weren’t born into a relationship with the mountain, but loved the mountain so much they chose to devote their lives to experiencing, exploring, and preserving it over centuries. You’ll meet some fascinating folks in the book. It’s a nonfiction work, but I think former Our State editor Vicky Jarrett captured the storytelling side of this book when she said it “reads like a James Michener novel.”

In your opinion, what are the best and worst parts of Grandfather Mountain’s tourism success? Best side of tourism success: Between all the tourists who drove to the Swinging Bridge and loved the view, and all the hikers who fell in love with the wilderness on trails that I helped Grandfather Mountain: The History and Guide to an Appalachian preserve, the mountain Icon. University of North Carolina Press, 2016. 296 pages, $35. developed such a passionate stewardship foundation. It may be the public constituency by the 1990s that world’s only privately owned, UNESCOproposing further development of this designated International Biosphere Appalachian icon just wasn’t possible. Reserve. And the Blue Ridge Parkway That’s when the future of conservation drapes a national park’s protection across finally reached critical mass. Worst side of tourism success: the its flank—home to the Linn Cove Viaduct, Swinging Bridge travel attraction. I don’t a spectacular span that helps make the mean this to sound like an indictment of parkway the country’s most visited unit of Hugh Morton; times were different back the national park system. I could go on then. However, the road that was built to and on. the top could have been executed far more sensitively. Most importantly, the pristine What characters in Grandfather’s gap where the parking lot was gouged out history are most interesting to you? was very likely the most spectacular spot Certainly the people who had the on the entire mountain, a setting of biggest impact on the mountain were the nationally significant scenery that might MacRae family who bought the mountain have been preserved if a dozen “what if” in the late 1800s, launched Linville, and scenarios had worked out to make the logged the mountain. After them, the mountain public land in the 1930s and Mortons had tremendous impact. From 1940s. Before then, motorists drove to a 1945 or so, photographer and developer lower vista point and loved it. Then they Hugh MacRae Morton built the Swinging hiked higher, into that gorgeous gap. I have Bridge travel attraction, and after dreams that it stayed that way. My book Morton’s death in 2006, his grandson, has awesome images of that earlier time. Hugh MacRae “Crae” Morton III led the The architect who designed the newest, family’s transfer of the bulk of the 2010 summit visitor center was there backcountry to state park status. That’s a

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

JULY 28 – AUGUST 20

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There’s no shortage of stunning scenery along the Grandfather Trail. These hikers thread an explosive rhododendron bloom near Grandfather Mountain State Park’s Alpine Meadow Campsite. RANDY JOHNSON PHOTO

Celebrating 100 Years The North Carolina State Park system marks its first century in 2016. Officially a state park since 2009, Grandfather Mountain will host a centennial celebration on August 26 and 27, starting with a Friday evening lecture by naturalist and Emmy-winning TV host Patrick McMillan. Saturday will feature guided hikes on the Nuwati and Cragway Trails, with naturalists and scientists stationed along the way. For more information, see ncparks.gov/grandfather-mountain-state-park.

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

when the old visitor was torn down. He sensed what was lost when the bulldozers arrived in 1952. He told me, “The fact is, if the road to the top of Grandfather Mountain and the Swinging Bridge weren’t already there, it could never be built today.” What do you hope readers take away from your book? I’ve explored the Appalachians from the Deep South through New England to the Gaspe in Canada and even on to Scotland. I set out to write more than a book about one North Carolina peak. I’ve packed a lot of what I know about the entire Appalachian range into a portrait of a summit that I argue is the most iconic mountain in Eastern America. Whenever I discuss the natural and human history of Grandfather, I try to contextualize it and connect it to some other significant place or feature of the Appalachians elsewhere. How else would you see how Grandfather stands apart? That said, Grandfather is also a symbol of the North Carolina High Country, one of the Appalachians’ choice resort regions. My book explores how the mountain has shaped and unified the history of the Boone, Blowing Rock, and Linville area.

What would you call the best-kept secrets of Grandfather Mountain? The answer to this question could be a book itself—which is why I wrote the book! Some high points come to mind. Worth Weller was a brilliant, 18-year-old herpetologist who died discovering a new species of salamander on the mountain in 1931—but so little is known about him. A lot more is known now—I found his 100year-old high school sweetheart. Grandfather’s Attic Window Peak has a secret window in its attic—an adventurous crawl through a fissure cave that exits on the face of a cliff. I tell you how to find it. Did Native Americans ever perform rituals in a summit overhang called Indian House Cave? That mystery too may have just been solved. What hike or activity do you consider the most revealing experience of Grandfather? If you are fit enough, the mountain’s single indispensable experience is to hike the Grandfather Trail over the entire loftiest ridge. The path leaves the Swinging Bridge area and crosses the three highest summits of MacRae, Attic Window, and Calloway peaks, all just

below 6,000 feet. The majority of the hike traverses wind-flagged evergreen forest where ladders climb the faces of rocky cliffs and crags. It’s a view-packed experience, a real adventure, but not for the never-ever hiker or anyone afraid of heights. Hike to Calloway and back, or continue down the Daniel Boone Scout Trail to the Blue Ridge Parkway. What are the biggest risks facing Grandfather? The biggest opportunities? The biggest risk is that budget cutting for parks and preservation will limit the funds needed to buy still private land along NC 105 where development could compromise the future integrity of the park. If you care, join a conservation trust like the Blue Ridge Conservancy. For me personally, having started the mountain’s backcountry trail program in the 1970s, the biggest opportunity may be new trails and facilities. I’d like to see the old Shanty Spring Trail return, and that could happen if the state park and Nature Conservancy cooperate. A new parking area for the Profile Trail should be built by 2017, and I hope a visitor center is in the works.

Randy Johnson is proﬁled on page 13.

The Linn Cove Viaduct. HUGH MORTON PHOTO

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STORIES Community

MANDY NEWHAM-COBB ILLUSTRATION

The Trout and the Bedpan BY MARVIN NEWMAN

t is late fall in North Georgia, and the cool waters of mountain trout streams provide relief for anglers seeking a respite after the summer’s heat. Hickory yellow, sumac red, maple orange—several of fall’s brilliant hues are still clinging to their limbs, providing one final display of color. My wife, Cindy, is from this area, and we are on our way to visit her parents. Her dad is taking me trout fishing in one of those cool mountain streams. The stream where we intended to fish will remain nameless for obvious reasons, but suffice it to say the trout were being cooperative. After wading in and out of the creek for several hundred yards, we decided it was time to exit the creek and head to the truck for sandwiches stuffed with bologna (or, as I like to call it, round steak). I’ve never been one to maintain steady footing around a trout brook, or any waterway for that matter, and today was no exception. As I started to climb the bank, I slipped and jabbed a sharp pointed stick into the bend of my right arm. A biting pain ensued, and I instinctively threw down my fishing rod and grabbed my wound with my left hand. Having read outdoor magazines since my youth, I am well versed in the myriad ways those of us who hunt and fish can meet our demise. Hypothermia, venomous snakes, and extreme blood loss top that list. My immediate thought was that I would soon be departing this Earth by way of that third method, due to the fact that blood had

already stained the fingers of my hand. What a way to go! I had read many stories about folks in the outdoors whose bones were found some years later, gnawed by small rodents. And here I was, facing that same inglorious fate. I maintained this thought process for several minutes, even though I had already staunched the blood flow, and the tail end of the pickup had come into view. So, I walked down to where my father-in-law was fishing and explained that the quest was over and we needed to be heading home so I could show the injury to Cindy and find out whether I needed stitches. Though Cindy doesn’t hold a medical degree, she has a knack for diagnosing sickness, even well in advance of any symptoms. There have been numerous occasions where I was feeling fine on Friday evening until she walked through the room and mentioned that I didn’t look as if I felt well at all. I always assure her that I am fine, but then I wake up the next morning sick. Psychosomatic or not, the illness tends to hang on for at least a couple of days. Thus we headed home with me stemming the blood flow with my left hand and eating a round steak sandwich with the other. By the time we got back to my in-laws’ house, the sandwiches were gone and the blood had stopped except for a slight ooze between my fingers. Don’t misunderstand what I’m saying, but since I had been near death while standing on the stream bank, I was disappointed that those folks at home wouldn’t be able to see just how serious of an injury I had sustained. You know what I mean. It’s the same deal as when you turn your ankle in a pickup basketball game. The pain is excruciating, but the rascal never so much as turns blue, much less all the yellowgreen colors you hope will appear as proof of your anguish. Somehow, some way, someone needs to know just how bad it was. Thankfully, the knuckles on my left hand were still crusted in crimson. I showed the wound the second we arrived, and Dr. Cindy assured me I needed stitches, so off we drove to the nearest hospital. Cindy went into the ER with me. She watched while the doctor administered a shot to deaden the area and went about doing a little trim work with the scissors. Next he removed a piece of wood from the hole in my arm. The doc continued his magic with the scissors, and his ability with a needle and thread would have made my Aunt Ruth’s quilting club envious. I was happy that my fate was not to be left in the paws of gnawing rodents but still a bit bothered by the fact that my friends would never know just how close I came to that end. It took a total of seven stitches to sew me up. On about the fourth stitch I noticed that Dr. Cindy had stretched out on the floor beside a silver bedpan. She had turned a color of green that would make a sprained ankle envious. The trout expedition had claimed its second victim.

Having read

outdoor magazines since my youth, I am well versed in the myriad ways those of us who hunt and ﬁsh can meet our demise.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

SMOKY MOUNTAIN LIVING VOLUME 16 • ISSUE 4

Marvin Newman is a retired teacher in Cleveland, Tennessee.

EAT AT SH HOP H O P expplore pl WE ARE SO MUCH MORE

THAN A CHIL CHILD HILDDDREN REN’SS HOME, HOME COME SEE THE AT THE

collors off hope p

CROSSN SSN NORE SCHOOL

EEAT AT MIRACLE IRACLE GR ROUNDS OUNDS COFFEE OFFEE SH HOP OP

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Serving hot and cold coffffee, specialty drinks, k tea, and nd bre b akfa f st and n lunch specials daily. OPEN Monday-Saturday 8:00am-5:00pm | www www.miraclegrounds.org .miraclegrounds.org 8 Fountain Circle | Crossnore, NC 28616 | 828-733-2247

SHOP SHOP BLLAIR AIR FR RALEY ALEY SA ALES LES STORE TORE

largest g st resale shopp in the high gh countr country tryy

The Blair Fraley ey Salees Store offfers f treasures to loccals and visitors visitor i alike. OPEN Monday-Wednesday & Friday-Saturday 10am-5:00pm, Thursday 10am-6pm 100 DAR Drive | Crossnore, NC 28616 | 828-733-4228

CRROSSNORE OSSNORE WE EAVERS EA AVE V RS

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The Weaving e Room was creaated ed to keep ali alivee th the he Appalachian App art of hand-weaving. The museum promotes the school through the sale of its beautiful hand-w oven goods. OPEN O PE N Monday-Friday M on d ay - F ri d a y 9am-5pm 9 a m- 5 p m & Saturday 10am-5pm | 205 Johnson Lane | Crossnore, NC 28616 | 828-733-4660 www www.crossnoreweavers.org .crossnoreweavers.org

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h p artists helpp Crossnore helps Crossnnore children

Crossnore Fine Arts Gallery G ll represents t regional i l painters, p i t sculptors l t and fine crafts. All work in the gallery is available for purchase. OPEN Monday-Friday 9am-5pm & Saturday 10am-5pm | www www.crossnoregallery.org .crossnoregallery.org 205 Johnson Lane | Crossnore, NC 28616 | 828-733-3144

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Completed in 2006, the ffresco att The Th C Crossnor School renders the Crossnore scripture of Mark 10:14, “suffer the little childrreen to come unto me and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God.” OPEN Daily 8:30am-5:00pm 100 DAR Drive | Crossnore, NC 28616 | 828-733-4305