The Ambassadors of Southern Hospitality

           And you thought you were having fun at Spoleto! Have you been greeted by a live elephant as you arrived at a party? Introduced the Polish dancers to the beach? Walked your dog with opera stars? When double bass player Anthony Manzo calls Charleston “the most welcoming city there is” it’s because of the Charlestonians who are the ambassadors of the festival’s hospitality.                                                              
         Judith Vane chaired Spoleto’s hospitality committee for 26 years. Festival general director Nigel Redden once boasted of attending 45 parties in one season. “I never found it hard. People like to be involved,” Judith says. Sometimes she’d call people she didn’t even know and ask them to host lavish affairs. “It must take a lot of nerve to call someone you’ve never met and ask them to host a party for 200 people,” one told her before she agreed. In the early days of the festival the gatherings were listed in the newspaper. Once an entire busload of tourists crashed the party and ate all the hors d’oeurves. Judith had to run home and get more cheese! Driven by insatiable curiosity and humor, Judith says she has derived innumerable benefits from the festival. “I can’t tell you how much Spoleto has brought to my life…people I never would have known.” Art by Cletus Johnson adorns her historic home, theatrical director Jack Garfein has become a personal friend and she continues to stay in touch with many of the performers she’s hosted over the years.
       Sharon Bowers’ family has shared their home with many Spoleto performers, some staying up to six weeks while rehearsing. “You really get to know these people. It makes for some wildly interesting conversations while we’re peeling potatoes together.” Her intention to introduce her children to other cultures has really paid off. They have become more open minded and are comfortable everywhere. But the lasting friendships have been the best part, most notably with opera star Benedicte Jourdois. “Nobody is more fun at a party than Benedicte,” she says. “It’s also quite thrilling to attend the Metropolitan Opera in New York and know the performers personally.”

      Mitzi Legerton was lucky enough to be assigned rising opera star Rebecca Russell as a house guest and was thrilled when Rene Fleming joined her to rehearse in the living room.  “Keeping the opera people was a blessing.  The house was joyfully full of music.  And it’s been amazing to watch their careers develop.”

           

 

     

 

 

 

      Behind the scenes of the most extravagant parties in town, you’ll often find Mitchell Crosby of JMC Charleston. When he was 20 he worked at the festival box office. “That was when I fell in love with Spoleto.  Wherever I lived, I always came home for Spoleto,” he said.  He devoted countless hours volunteering on festival committees and now his company stages some of the city’s most memorable parties.   Long-time Spoleto hostess Bessie Hanahan and her cook Lucille Grant set a standard that he keeps in mind today.  “The greatest honor is being invited into people’s homes.  Visitors want a Charleston experience.”   Even huge parties in event halls represent Charleston: fanciful centerpieces crafted from local produce, themes inspired by the Charleston Renaissance or the ocean for example.  Mitch stresses that while the food is important it is the creative elements that make a party memorable.  Theatrical lighting,  a stage suspended above a swimming pool, cushy outdoor living rooms, a costumed dancer inside a huge transparent ball…these are the memories he creates.  “I always hear from performers that they’re so appreciative of Charleston hospitality,” he says.  Mitch stays in touch with many of the stars he’s feted including baritone Nmon Ford whose career he has enjoyed following.  His passion for the festival is unquenched.  “I would not know about opera or contemporary dance or sight specific art were it not for Spoleto.”  

            Chamber musician Anthony Manzo tells a poignant story. His father was quite ill and came to Charleston to hear his son play one last concert. He stayed a week. “The visit here buoyed my Dad up like nothing else did.”  The Dock Street ushers took special care to see that he was comfortable.  People seated nearby effusively complimented his son’s music.  “It’s something I’ll never forget,” Anthony says.  A Catfish Row apartment is his Charleston “oasis.”  Musicians come to rehearse there; he can walk to the Dock Street to perform.  People like Susu Ravenel and the Hagertys are “hugely welcoming.”  Between living in Washington DC and frenetically touring, Charleston’s more laid back atmosphere has become very important to him and the other musicians.   “We’re doing the music we love with people we enjoy.  It’s a focused, relaxed, intense way of playing.  Sometimes when I’m elsewhere I step back and pretend I’m at Spoleto to calm myself,” he says.

            Beyond the transcendent artistic moments, the cosmopolitan infusion and tourist dollars that Spoleto brings to Charleston, there are these authentic human connections.  It is because of the hosts and their generosity that our city has the well-earned reputation as the Capital of Southern Hospitality.   

To get involved:

housing@spoletousa.org or events@spoletousa.org

Photo credits:  MCG Photography and jwkpec photography

 

 

           

Fat Tire Freak Out

        Our son and his girlfriend are the most active people I know. When they surf mountain-sized waves or catapult through the air behind weight boards, I settle for living vicariously but recently they introduced me to one of the Lowcountry’s best new adrenaline pumping adventures, the new bike trail near Wannamaker Park in Goose Creek.  Opened in May 2012, the trail is one the area’s best destination for off-road bicycling. 

            It’s a little hard to find since it is not in Wannamaker Park at all but a mile away off of Westview Blvd. on the Berkeley County line. Once you find the trail though it is pretty well marked.   Brad Phillips who designed and helped build the trail described it as being suitable for beginners but built for experienced riders.  It seems to me that the beginners would have to be reckless ten year olds (with lots of parent-supplied safety equipment) or cautious adults.  It’s really a trail for seasoned riders who relish squeezing between trees and bucking along the bumpy contours.

       On my first visit it took awhile to relax and gain momentum.  You need to move fast enough to ride over the many berms and avoid the tree limbs on the narrow trail.  Branches seemed to be reaching out to snag my handlebars.  But once I overcame my trepidation and started going a little faster, I developed a rhythm.  I kept visualizing playing Bach on the piano as I rode, trying to keep a steady pace, concentrating every second and using my best coordination.  Riding over the inclines, it’s important to have your feet parallel to the ground at the crest of the little hills so the pedals don’t catch the ground and topple the bike.  Being the Lowcountry, the trail is otherwise flat but winds in loopy curves.  There are still a lot of roots to transverse since this is a new trail and I was glad to have my trusty Schwinn with shock absorbers.  Along the eight miles there are frequent opportunities to exit early and then there is “The Ridge”. 

            Naïve and unaware since this was my first trip there, I gamely rode up the embankment to check it out but soon realized it was beyond me.  Riders have said it’s like “riding on a dragon’s back” with a series of extreme rises and potholes.  Its trickiest feature is nicknamed “The Toilet Bowl” for its steep sudden inclines and descents that require riding fast to overcome.  The half-mile “Ridge” is the result of dirt left behind during the excavation of the canal that sits beside it.  Ready for me to fall into, I imagined.  Reluctantly, I walked my bike along.  Of course, my son and his girlfriend thought the ridge was the best part! 

            On my second visit Wayne Miller was finishing his ride as I arrived.  “It’s awfully muddy in there today,” he warned.  “Lots of deer though.” Wayne prefers biking in Marrington Plantation where you can build up quite a lot of speed and not be as vigilant about obstacles.  I encountered the mud right away. Big swampy potholes pock marked the trail and sucked on my shoes as I walked my bike past each one.  Flooded expanses covered acres of the forest but the trail was mostly passable.  I tried to capture the elusive “flow” that experienced riders talk about this trail possessing: a rhythmical pace as each move leads to the next over the rises and dips.  But I was distracted by the purple wisteria blossoms that had floated down to dot the trail, their sinuous vines that snaked towards the blue sky and the springtime bird calls in the otherwise silent forest.

            Before it gets too hot and buggy, go check out this new close-by thrill ride.  Or put this article in your “Future Adventures File”.  You have a “Future Adventures File” don’t you? We have all got to give huge credit to the volunteers from Low Country Fat Tire Freaks who spent thousands of hours working in cooperation with Charleston County Parks and Recreation Commission to build this trail from scratch and create the berms and twists that make the ride exciting.  They’ve created quite a joyride for us. 

 

If You Go:

Directions and a short video:  www.ccprc.com/index.aspx?nid=1532  be aware that the directions include a turn at St. James Ave. where the sign says Hwy 176 instead.

 

More photos: Wannamaker North Trail Photos

 

 

Unafraid in Cape Fear

 

       You’ve gotta love a roadtrip that includes a car ferry. From Southport, my girlfriend and I got into the traveling mood as seagulls swooped and the ship’s horn droned while we cruised up the Cape Fear River. It was “shoulder season”, before the summer crowds, but plenty goes on along the coast here when the season gets cookin’.

           

   




At the N.C. Aquarium at Fort Fisher we watched a scuba diver feed the sharks while “trying not to look like a porkchop” then headed to what everyone kept telling us was Carolina Beach’s best restaurant. It’s even #1 on Tripadvisor with over 250 rhapsodic reviews like: “best in the country”, “a must”, “to die for”. Britt’s Donuts. There’s only one kind: glazed. Cash only. The shed-like building’s floor is dusted with powdered sugar. But, man, they were the epitome of what a donut should be: sweet, hot, soft and greasy. Yum. A nostalgic boardwalk ambles past shops, an arcade, amusements and snack bars. Counter-culture peaks from the corners with art gallery posters advertising an opening reception for “exotica and quixotica” and another featuring “giant woodcuts printed with a steamroller".

  

      The most celebrated natural phenomena of the area is the Venus Flytrap. At Carolina Beach State Park Ranger Jeff Davis led us into the pocosins, a special kind of wetland, and the only area in the country where they are native. His enthusiasm as we crouched and painstakingly searched for the small distinctive sprouts was contagious. Charles Darwin thought so too when one was sent to him. He called it “one of the most wonderful plants in the world.”

      The Venus Fly Trap is celebrated in a huge colorful sculpture on the Wilmington waterfront. The city is like a polite child who was raised in the South and has come back to town with a head full of new ideas. Our comfortable bed and breakfast, the Front Street Inn, was in the 230-block historic district of antebellum houses which has been recognized as a “Dozen Distinctive Destination” by the National Trust for Historic Preservation. Meanwhile the largest movie studio east of Los Angeles is nearby. The Cameron Art Museum hosts world-class exhibits and master potter Hiroshi for whom they built a large facility that attracts hundreds of devoted clay students. The Basics Restaurant prides itself on keeping “authentic Southern Food simple”. But Fire on the Dock touts “what Southern food could be” in a series of cooking contests that pit chefs from across the state in heats with native products. Mystery ingredients are revealed to competing chefs at noon. The night we went they were milk and chocolate. By dinnertime they’d turned them into delicacies like praline crusted quail and sturgeon chocolate cake. Ringmaster Jimmy Crippen rabble-roused the diners and we all cast votes following each course. This town has energy. Style too. The theatrically decorated windows at A Second Time Around are the work of manager Eddie who curates the vintage clothing in the glamorous shop. Not all the citizens resemble polite children though. At the rough looking Barbary Coast bar the sign jests, “We’ve upped our standards. Up yours.”

 

      Outdoors is where the Wilmington area gets exciting. Captain Joe, who claims to have the equivalent of perfect pitch for seeing birds, took us on a blustery scenic water tour out of Wrightsville Beach. His life’s work began at age 17 when “I looked though the binoculars for the first time, right into the eyes of a blue bird.” With undiminished enthusiasm, he tries to see at least seven species on every tour. “Check it out!” he hollers over the sound of the engine. “Some of these birds have flown all the way from South America. Thank you for posing for us birds!”

 

      At the heavenly Arlie Gardens 100,000 azaleas announced the coming of spring. In 1884 rich industrialist Pembroke Jones and his wife Sarah bought the property and transformed it into a picturesque masterpiece. The lavish parties they staged there are still considered the height of high society hosting. Minnie Evans was the gatekeeper at Airlie Gardens from 1949 to 1974 where the lush backdrop inspired her to become one of America’s most important visionary artists. She said, “…We talk of heaven. We think everything is going to be white. But I believe we’re going to have beautiful rainbow colors. Green is God’s color. He has 600 and some shades of green”. Her enigmatic paintings hang in galleries and museums. A magical Bottle Chapel and garden was constructed by local artists in homage to her inspiration.

      For an easy adventure, follow the coastline. Like the Venus Flytrap that attracts its prey with a subtle nectar smell, you’ll be drawn to the understated charms along the shores.

 

If you Go:

For visitor information: www.gowilmingtonandbeaches.com

Airlie Gardens: www.airliegardens.org

Water tour: www.wrightsvillebeachscenictours.com

Aquarium: www.ncaquariums.com

Cameron Art Museum: www.cameronartmuseum.com

Ferry: www.southporttimes.com

Cooking Competition: http://www.competitiondining.com/events/fire-on-the-dock

more captioned photos:

Wilmington photos

Pride of Place on St. Simons Island

 

 

        A sign in the front yard says it all, “Don’t ask.  Won’t sell.”  On St. Simons Island even a modest old house like this one is likely to have suitors.  You’ve got to envy those who live here.   This eighteen mile long island, roughly the size of Manhattan, has 21,000 residents and 4,000 hotel rooms.  Unlike its sister Golden Isles destinations, St. Simons, Georgia is all about its residents.  The waterfront could be full of high rise hotels but instead  a long walkway snakes by a large playground full of children, a pier with fishermen unfurling cast nets, picnic tables and a town center that boasts a art center, grills, historic lighthouse, wedding room, pool and expansive grassy lawns.  Nearby is a busy skateboard park and recreation center.  Everywhere there are miles and miles of trees.   Building heights are limited to four stories.  It’s clear that the residents and Town leaders have taken great care of the island with dedication and vision.  Now it’s a gem with a tremendously strong pride of place.

          There is no stronger advocate for the island than Captain Cap Fendig.  He proudly describes St. Simons as “an island that takes care of itself.”  As the self appointed ambassador and life long resident, he operates several land and sea businesses.  Everything from dolphin sightings to funerals at sea that help tourists experience the culture and nature of the area. But his passion for place transcends his business motivations.  He proudly mentions that the Brooklyn Bridge was built from live oak timber from the island and tells a moving story of the slave and favorite son Neptune for whom the park is named.  Because St. Simons is the most westerly location on the East Coast, there are fewer hurricanes and extreme tides.  One third of the East Coast’s marshes, filled with abundant sea life, surround this area. 

         The island’s pride of place, and especially its history, is evident at its only ocean front hotel.  The King and Prince offers 14 styles of rooms, suites, cottages and villas including elegant homes that appeal to family vacationers.  A member of Historic Hotels of America, it originally opened in 1935 as a private dance club on the ocean and housed soldiers during World War II as U-boats prowled the Georgia coast. Beyond its fabulous location, it is renowned for its four pools and the world-class golf course as well as the ornate stained glass windows that depict island history.  Bud St. Pierre became the Director of Sales and Marketing at the hotel ten years ago.  “We were looking for a little community. Just driving over the bridge, we knew.  The King and Prince is very nice, but it’s about the destination.  This island is very special.”  The hotel cuisine capitalizes on the local products such as Lane Southern Orchard peaches and pecans, Bland Vidalia Onions, Savannah Bee Company honey products, Still Pond Wines and Sugar Marsh Cottage Chocolates but they are famous for their house made lemoncello and seafood recipes such as shrimp and grits and the Low Country boil which they enjoy cooking ocean-side. 

 

        Captain Fentig calls St. Simons “an eat-stroll-eat-stop-stroll kinda place”. At Halyard’s upscale restaurant chef Glen Miskowski says, “The first thing people want to do on St. Simons is eat seafood.”  Here, the clams are still alive, the shrimp are lightly poached and the local catch comes right in the back door daily. Manager Matt Gage says, “I’ve never worked anywhere where the fish is fresher than this”.  At the more casual Palmer’s Café, the food is “between rough and refined” and the breakfast menu is creative:  poached eggs with collard greens and ham or Buddy’s banana pudding pancakes with crushed vanilla wafers. Up the street in a ramshackle building is an island mainstay, Beachcomber Barbeque.  The very authentic Brunswick stew is their pride and joy but huge barbeque platters served to diners along the picnic tables were also greeted with rave reviews.  A highlight of my visit was an exciting ecotour on the Lady Jane shrimp boat with Captain Larry Credle and crew. Lifelong shrimpers, they delighted in showing these landlubbers the abundance of sea life pulled up in their shrimp nets as we motored along the waterway.  We took great photos of the least squeamish among us holding hammerhead sharks, horseshoe crabs and squid while Clifford, our educator, culled out the still-squirming shrimp and boiled them up in the galley.  Talk about fresh! 

 

        It’s easy to see why St. Simons Island has a content community of residents who passionately defend their way of life and share it with the few thousand visitors each year.  As Captain Fentig says, “God has a few favorite places to hang out and one of them is St. Simons.” 

For more photos, please see
 St. Simons Island Photos

 
 This story was originally published in The Island Eye and the Feb., 2013 Island Connection.

 

 

 

       

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Wonderland on a Private Georgia Island

 

        I felt like I’d fallen through the looking glass.  At the end of a thirty minute boat ride from Darien, Georgia, we stepped onto the dock at Eagle Island.  Our first impressive sight was an array of tree pots: upended trees with their towering roots filled with cascading green foliage.  A parade of come-to-life, upside down palmettos parading past the arbors of woven wisteria vines like fancy women in Easter bonnets. 

        This is a private island, a total escape, only me and the four women I came with. There’s one house with no others in sight surrounded by endless marshes and ten acres to explore.  Everything we needed to be content was included, even unexpected amenities like a hotel-size ice maker, groceries, ping-pong, a fabulous outdoor kitchen, a fire pit, indoor fireplace and more kitchen equipment than most houses.  The crab traps were already catching crabs.  Happy hour started before the drinks hit the blender. 

        Daydreams started bubbling in our minds as we settled into the rhythm of Eagle Island.  Who could help it with inviting places to relax like the comfy swinging porch bed, the hot tub, the fanciful outdoor shower and the bench by the pond?  We meditated in the porch swing at the end of the dock where 360 degree marsh views lulled our minds into another dimension.  Each night our dreams were filled with exotic images inspired by the Indonesian furniture in the four bedrooms and the quiet sounds of nature.

        Our host, Andy Hill, is a Renaissance man and collector of islands. He would not be the least bewildered, as Alice in Wonderland was, when she was asked “Can you row?” and handed a knitting needle.  Andy relishes reinvention.  The dock is lined with pickle jars turned into artistic turtle lanterns.  The dock itself is made from salvaged lumber.  There’s a book shelf made from a boat, driftwood chandeliers and a bow of a ship waiting to be turned into an oyster table.  The ultimate repurposing though is Andy’s amazing oyster steamer.  It’s the size of a bed, powered by propane and it used to be an immense restaurant deep fryer.  When the pneumatic lid was opened, a billow of steam enveloped us.  Andy and his helpers use it to make his “Eagle Island Five Moon Oysters”.  “We’re not a five star resort” Andy says.  “We’re a five moon destination.” 

 

     We watched the crew steam the oysters and then put them on the half shell into a cast iron frying pan, cover them with cheese, scallions, bacon and jalapeno peppers.  Then, with a flourish, he poured in a conch shell full of bourbon.  Covered and fired over a propane flame, they became pillows of marshy succulence.  (see complete recipe below). All of this was done downstairs in the outdoor kitchen surrounded by turtle lanterns and moonlight, seagrass and seashells.  Right out of Southern Living.

        Included in the trip to Eagle Island is the opportunity to explore the surrounding area such as Sapelo Island and Andy’s other project at May Hall Island where he has been building a Wonderland vacation house for his family for several years.  Visitors can rent a pontoon boat from Andy, bring their own boat or hire him to tour the area.  There are also kayaks provided with the house.  On Sapelo Island we drove along the rough road to see the Reynolds Mansion and the small hamlet where 45 islanders live.  Hitting the beach, even those of us who live on the coast gathered up the huge seashells that looked like they’d eaten Alice’s mushrooms and grown enormously. 

        The visit to May Hall really showed Andy’s creativity.  “Sometimes, I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” the Queen told Alice.  Andy can top that.  He told us that for many years any time something was demolished in the area, he’d get a call to salvage the materials.  Throughout the island are piles and piles of sorted tiles, lumber, plants, bricks, tree trunks and barrels that he hauled over by barge.  They’re all waiting to be reinvented.  An elaborate tile mosaic covers a huge patio and outdoor fire place, slate seats dot the forest trails, the entire waterfront is bordered by salvaged ballast rocks and more parading tree pots.  Curiouser and curiouser.  His fantasy doesn’t end there though.  Across long boardwalks are his other islands cheekily named Mick and Jagger where the Lowcountry forests remain, so far at least, untamed.   

        And so we left this magical place where one thing is transformed to another and trees come to life.  Alice asked the Cheshire cat “Where should I go?" "That depends on where you want to end up." The Cat replied. We’d ended up on Eagle Island.  It’s just a three hour drive,  half hour boat ride and through the looking glass from Charleston.

 

If You Go:  Eagle Island is accessible only by boat. Transportation to the island is included with the island house rental.  For more information see http://www.privateislandsofgeorgia.com/

 Eagle Island Five Moon Oysters

• One bushel of oysters
• 1 conch shell--cleaned and sanitized for use as a measuring cup
• 4 ounce bag of Mexican 4-blend cheese
• 4 bundles of fresh scallions, finely chopped
• 2 pounds of bacon, cooked and crumbled
• 10 jalapeno peppers, sliced
• 1 box of saltine crackers
• 3 cups of your favorite bourbon

Captain Andy recommends a Low Country boil pot on a propane stand to steam the oysters.  Place a brick in the bottom of the cook pot, fill the pot with water to the top of the brick.  Bring the water to a boil and add 3 cups of bourbon, measured in the conch shell.  Set a basket of 25-40 oysters on top of the brick.  Place the lid on the pot and steam for 10 minutes.  Shuck the oysters, leaving them on the half shell, and fill a skillet or large sauce pan with as many as will fit in a single layer. Cover each oyster with shredded cheese, diced scallions, crumbled bacon and a jalapeno pepper slice.  Cover and cook over medium to low heat long enough to melt the cheese.  After the cheese has melted, turn the heat off and keep covered for another 2-3 minutes to allow the flavors to blend.  Then spoon one out onto a saltine cracker and experience your first, but not your last, Five Moon Oyster. 

 More photos of Eagle Island are available here:  Eagle Island photos
This article was published in the Island Connection and the Island Eye

Roadtrips Charleston: Soaking Away the Stress in Hot Springs, N.C.

 
           Several years ago my book club introduced me to what has become one of my favorite road trip destinations: Hot Springs NC. Giggling in a Jacuzzi together proved to be quite a bonding experience. We got massages and talked about that month’s book, Cold Mountain, hiked and drank wine. Our group of six filled an entire bed and breakfast where the tantalizing aroma of warm brownies greeted our nightly returns from our soak. Since then I have travelled there several times, staying in many different accommodations. You can drive there from Charleston, SC in just under five hours and return with a whole new perspective. 
             I’ve been to other “spas”: fancy, expensive places with scented air and new age music. This is decidedly a different sort of experience. If you arrive at the baths on a chilly evening, you’ll be greeted by a bonfire. You’ll check in at a shack. Until recently the massage rooms were in double-wide trailers. The tubs are actually Jacuzzis buried in the riverside which are filled with 100-plus degree mineral water when your hour-long rental begins. They’re private and simple affairs, surrounded by trellises and shrubbery. But in the moonlight on a chilly night they are magical. The rushing of the French Broad River, the gushing jets of water, crickets. Very soothing. The masseuses are right next door in a newly constructed building and they’re very well trained. Afterwards you’ll feel like a wet noodle.
            But you have to earn your relaxation and that’s where Hot Springs really wins me over. The Appalachian Trail goes right down the little Main Street. It’s common to see heavily laden backpackers trudge into town looking for hot showers, big meals and rest. Do a day hike on the AT to glimpse the through-hiker’s experience by reading the log books stashed in trailside shelters. We read earnest inscriptions with quotes like this one from Aldous Huxley: "Your true traveler finds boredom rather agreeable than painful. It is the symbol of his liberty - his excessive freedom” and descriptions of meals of GORP, ramen and protein bars. It’s also very pleasant to hike shorter trails like the Spring Creek Nature Trail which winds along the river or the many others in the Pisgah National Forest that begin nearby. 

On our many visits, my husband and I have stayed in a variety of accommodations including vacation homes we’ve rented on www.vrbo.com, camping cabins, bed and breakfasts and cottages. The camping cabins across the street from the spa are tiny and inexpensive. We woke up one morning in our cozy, warm cabin to see the campground and all of the tents covered in snow. At the spa itself there are more expensive suites, some with private (heart-shaped!) thermal tubs. A short walk away there are a variety of cottages and small inns. The town’s best bed and breakfast is the Mountain Magnolia Inn and Retreat which has been the sight of the most elegant resort in the area since one was built on the sight in 1886.            
            Full of history and destroyed twice by fire, the current hotel was restored by the new owners Pete and Karen Nagle in 1997. The architectural details tell of the costly and careful modernization that resulted from careful study of historic photos. Now there are 5 guest rooms, a 2 bedroom suite and two larger cottages available. Sitting on our private deck overlooking the mountains, we couldn’t have been more comfortable. The Inn is very popular with anniversary celebrations and small weddings. Guestbook entries exclaim, “…our new favorite weekend getaway spot”, “…most beautiful inn I’ve ever seen,” and “This makes me want to renew my vows.” The Inn’s restaurant is the only up-scale place to eat in town. Chef Chris Brown uses fresh ingredients to create imaginative dishes like pork stuffed with cherries, pecans and bleu cheese. “Keep it simple is my philosophy,” he says. “Good ingredients speak for themselves, which is why I hand pick all that I use myself.” He visits Hickory Nut Gap Farm to purchase local beef, pork and breakfast meats and gets seafood fresh from Blue Water Seafood Company. Breakfasts at the Inn are sumptuous and, to my husband’s delight, you don’t have to listen to anyone tell their life stories since there are private tables. Up the road is the Smoky Mountain Diner where breakfast comes cheap with plenty of local color. You can watch the hikers loading up on the huge portions and enjoy the friendly banter as neighbors greet each other. 
            Residents say that the town is rejuvenating. Empty storefronts and hotel rooms give a different impression but Hot Springs was just voted the “Best Small Mountain Town” in Blue Ridge Outdoor Magazine and travelers have been seeking it out since Native Americans discovered the mineral water over 200 years ago. If you’re looking for a place to relax and reenergize, Hot Springs, NC may become your favorite road trip too.  

If you go:
Hot Springs is 40 miles north of Asheville in the Blue Ridge Mountains. 
http://www.hotspringsnc.org/index.php
Mountain Magnolia Inn: www.mountainmagnoliainn.com
Hot Springs Spa: www.nchotsprings.com
Nearby hiking: http://www.hikewnc.info/trailheads/pisgah/appalachian/frenchbroad/

Finding My New Tribe in the Wilderness

            Do you have these problems: your friends don’t want to hike anymore? Complaints of knees, feet or exhaustion follow your invitations. They prefer wine tastings to GORP. Cooking classes to camping. Bar-be-ques to bird watching. Call them when you’re in the mood for quiet fun but go find a new tribe like I did at Wilderness Wildlife Week. Pigeon Forge, Tenn. is a strip of go-carts, laser tag, an Elvis museum, a gem mine, a “tastefully decorated year-round” Christmas hotel, growling dinosaurs, flashing billboards and themed arena dinners. Incongruously it’s also the gateway to The Great Smoky Mountains National Park, our country’s most visited (and one of only a few admission-free) national parks. Approx. 24,000 people attend this free event each January which celebrates the wonders of the park through walks, talks, workshops and exhibits. 

            Over breakfast at the Music Road Hotel and Convention Center conversations are about bears, hikes and arcane gardening tips. Overheard snippets are about “the size of its antlers” and “what do you think a bear might look like without its fur”? Artie Hodgson has been coming for fourteen years. “As long as I can get my bones out, this is what I’m gonna do”, she says. Typical of the mid-week crowd at Wildlife Week, she is a spry senior citizen with a thirst for learning and engaging with nature. Weekend workshops draw children and families.

            There are hundreds of one-hour workshops led by experts where I learned about whistle pigs, courting rocks and fly ginnies; about how teachers were driven from their classrooms by the bad breath of the children during ramp season; that possums have bifurcated sex organs and that Little Debbie oatmeal cookies float. Fascinating stuff. We played mountain dulcimers, heard wonderful storytellers, watched slide shows of trips to the Dolomites and learned camera and compass skills. All of the workshops had large attentive audiences. With so many offered, it was hard to choose. History, gardening, camping, concerts, fishing, travel, mountain climbing, conservation, trees, bears, birds... In every case, I found interesting information about subjects I may not have ever considered interesting before. 

                  The free hikes, with transportation provided, are a big draw. Forty-eight hikes are offered during the week and typically attract over 600 participants who collectively hike more than 3700 miles. On the Porter’s Creek hike I was part of a group of about 20 who signed up for the eight hour, seven and a half mile moderate trek. Among us is a group from Georgia that met 17years ago when they all took a continuing education class on hiking. After that class they continued to hike three times a week up to 12 miles a day. “We joined to meet people and learn the hikes to do ourselves but we met so many wonderful people we just kept coming” Our guide Martha Smith is a grandmother who set a quick pace. Her backpack is adorned with patches, especially one that she is most proud of. “I hiked them all” she says of the 800 miles of trails in the park. In order to reach all 150 trails, she had to walk a total of 2700 miles over nine years. Only 300 people can claim this feat. When she worked in the tourist office people sometimes thought Clingmans Dome, the highest point in the Smoky Mountains Park, was a waterslide. It turned her into a self-styled ambassador for the park. She is intent on getting people out of their cars and into the wild. At occasional stops along the trail she educates for example pointing out pock holes on trees made by yellow bellied sap sucker birds, not to get the sap, but to get the bugs that eat the sap.  

 

            Wilderness Wildlife Week was begun twenty-two years ago by the Pigeon Forge Department of Tourism as an effort to fill the hotel rooms that go empty there in the off-season. As a marketing idea it has been phenomenal, growing every year. I was surprised to learn that the January weather is usually more moderate than I expected for the mountains in winter. The hotel has spacious rooms where my Jacuzzi tub was a welcome sight after the hike. The park is just a few minutes away. 

            During a speech called “Watching and Being Watched” Ken Jenkins, one of the originators of the event, inspired the large crowd with incredible close-up photos of wildlife he’d taken as he quietly explored the area. “Watch like you are being watched: with wide-eyed wonder and childlike wisdom.” he instructed. The reverence for the area, its history and natural beauty is evident among the thousands who attend Wilderness Wildlife Week. So if you find fewer friends to have active fun with as you get older, you can join my new tribe too. Our motto is “I’m going to leave this life exhausted.” 

If you go:

Wilderness Wildlife Week is Jan. 12 to 19, 2013 in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. For more information:

http://www.mypigeonforge.com/events_winterfest_wilderness.aspx

The workshops and hikes are free.