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International Festival of Raleigh

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By Brynna Bantley, Grace Elkus, Anne Marie Glen, and Dustin Swope, 2013

Every year, Raleigh takes time to celebrate culture and diversity by hosting the International Festival of Raleigh. The annual festival aims to explore other cultures, their ways of living, and new perspectives of thinking about the world. For many attendees, it’s a night to celebrate one’s heritage and history and share it with the community they now call home. Additionally, it’s an opportunity for those who identify themselves as American first and foremost to gain an appreciation for just how ‘global’ their community is.

The night started out as a test of patience. Having arrived at the Raleigh Convention Center at 4:30 p.m., we assumed we would be first in line for the 5:00 opening of the festival. Instead, we found ourselves standing in a long line with no signs of motion.  We took this time to people watch, taking note of the various ages and ethnicities of attendees. Our first multi-cultural moment of the evening occurred when a very small Japanese boy bumped into one of our group members, and his grandmother took the opportunity to teach him to say “I’m sorry” in English.

For the true “outsider” — not from Raleigh, not from North Carolina, only knowing what is implied by news stories from the area and statements by political representatives — this was the perfect reality check. Clearly, Raleigh residents will turn out for a chance to step outside their comfort zone and share their culture humbly with others. And nothing on TV gave us reason to expect whole families who spoke Japanese as their first language lived in Raleigh. Until now, we had expected the international festival to be what one could learn from the Internet, put into action. Maybe this wouldn’t be the case, after all. Both these lessons lifted our spirits, and we hadn’t even entered the festival yet!

Forty minutes later, we had made our way in. Arriving on the second level, looking down over the festival, we were overwhelmed by the vast size of the event. Peering at our pamphlets, we learned that the large stage would soon host various dance groups and performers. The makeshift walls set up in the corner indicated cooking demos would be taking place. Long rows of white tents promised arts and crafts for sale from every country, and unicyclists and cameraman weaved their way through the crowds. But our first stop wasn’t the stage, or the crafts. It was the food.

Between the four of us, we covered a fair amount of ground. We tried the veggie platter from the Indian station, which consisted of rice, naan, paneer, gulab jamon, mango lassi, and channa masala. A visit to Kenya brought us spicy boiled spinach, while Afghanistan boasted turkey-and-cream-cheese samosas and Cambodia offered seafood summer rolls. A handful of decadent bean paste dumplings from China and Vietnam were all met with sighs of approval. We munched on sweet potato fries from Kenya while sipping bubble tea from Taiwan. We savored Stroopwafel from the Netherlands and red bean buns from Japan. Once we were full and satisfied, we noticed it was time for the cooking demo, so we made our way over.

As soon as we stepped into the demo, smells of garlic and ginger wafted over to us. We sat and watched as a local restaurant owner made ground pork and cabbage dumplings (recipe below). We learned how to peel ginger with a spoon, learned the pros and cons of steaming, frying, and sautéing dumplings, and were taught multiple techniques on how to seal the wrapper closed. The restaurant owner was adopted from Korea and raised in Detroit, so she said the Korean-inspired food at her restaurant brings together influences from Korea, Detroit and North Carolina. She also said she gives chefs room to be creative with seasonal ingredients, so the menu is constantly changing.

While the cooking demos were going on, there was music echoing through every corner of the hall. In the Biergarten area, where patrons could buy beers from parts of the globe from Ireland to Japan, the stage was first host to singer Ye Ning Feng, treating the audience with the unique sound of Chinese opera, and dazzling in her red silk performance dress. Following her melodic act was The Paco Band, a Spanish and nuevo flamenco ensemble who played a spirited set that left the listener wanting more.

The multiple stages were not the only places where global music could be heard. Even just wandering around, maybe getting a little lost in the many countries’ booths, one could hear the sounds of faraway lands, brought close together by the festival. In Japan’s booth, a woman expertly played the koto, a large string instrument played sitting up over it, like a piano. A large crowd was gathered around to watch and enjoy the soulful notes. Those of all ancestries gathered and appreciated the feelings evoked by the traditional instrument, unable to just walk by such beauty.

Not only did we leave the festival full of food, we left full of appreciation for the diversity present in Raleigh and for everyone who shared their culture with us throughout the night. Needless to say, it was well worth the wait.

“Happy Hug” dumplings:
Makes 45-50
1 lb. ground pork
2 tbs. chopped fresh ginger
1 tbs. freshly minced garlic
3 tsp. salt
1 ½ cups finely chopped cabbage
All-purpose flour
Hot water

1. Put the ground pork in a large bowl and add the ginger, garlic, 2 tsp. salt and cabbage. Using your hands, mix the ingredients together. Freeze the mixture if you are making the dumplings in advance.

2. For the wrapper, use 3 parts flour to 1 cup hot water. Mix the two together and 1 tsp salt. Knead the dough, then roll it out into a thin sheet. Use a pastry cutter or a biscuit cutter to cut out circles.

3. Take one wrapper and scoop a little less than 1 tbsp. of filling onto the middle. Fold up the sides and pinch the top closed, then pinch the sides together.

4. These can be steamed, fried, or pan-sauteed. For sauteing, heat a little bit of olive oil in a pan. When it is shimmering but not smoking, add the first round of dumplings. Cook one side, then flip. Dumplings are ready when the wrapper has turned a golden-brown color. They can be eaten plain, or can be added to soup with greens and scallions. For a sauce, mix together soy sauce, sesame oil, ginger, garlic, and scallions. Enjoy!

The Culture of Saxapahaw, North Carolina

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By Mia Brady

 

It has been featured in local publications like Chapel Hill Magazine, Triad Business Journal, Our State Magazine, News and Observer, The Burlington Times, and WUNC TV; in national publications like the Orlando Sentinel, The LA Times, the Washington Post, Gourmet Magazine, Bon Appetite and The New York Times. With recognition like this, there is no question that the former quiet little mill town of Saxapahaw, North Carolina is a distinguishable place. Located about half way between Graham and Chapel Hill, this town is unquestionably off the beaten path. Driving through miles of farmland, one would never expect to stumble into this quaint, yet established, town with such a strong, identifiable culture.

 

The town of Saxapahaw, nestled along the Haw River, was founded back in 1840 as a cotton mill town. It had a quiet, authentic mill-town, farm feel for over nearly 150 years, until1994, when the Saxapahaw Rivermill was forced to close due to economic reasons. This little town focused around cotton soon was faced with the task of rebuilding itself; a task that was tackled with exceptional drive. Mac Jordan, the grandson of former mill owner John Jordan, bought the mill and focused on renovation. Today, just 18 years after the closure of the mill, Saxapahaw has established itself as a town worthy of Gourmet’s and New York Times’ attention. This little mill town has expanded into a town with a welcoming culture and a passion for local food.

 

In addition to Jordan’s dedicated efforts, Jeff Barney and Cameron Ratliff have transformed various spots in Saxapahaw into facilities to help rebuild the town, and revamp the feel. One of such is The Eddy Pub, a pub and restaurant housed in a former mill that pays tribute to the original mill village of Saxapahaw. Saxapahaw General Store was bought by Barney and Ratliff in 2008, and for the past four years, these two have focused their efforts on ensuring that the Saxapahaw community can enjoy local food.

 

When visiting Saxapahaw, Phoebe and I were amazed by the uniqueness of the atmosphere. We entered the store and noticed right away that it doubled in nature, as both a convenient store with every day products, and a local food emporium. To our right we were faced with shelves of both everyday and locally grown products, but to our left, a vast chalkboard filled with what seemed to be hundreds of meal choices awaited us. To say that it took us about 20 minutes to finally make a decision on our meals is not an exaggeration. With options like the Applewood Bacon Blue Cheese Burger, which looked just as good as it sounds as a waiter walked by with the burger on a tray, the Saxy White Pizza, with artichokes, prosciutto and roasted tomatoes, or of course, the Avocadomater, for the veggie lover, filled with avocado, sprouts, cream cheese, cucumber and provolone. After much deliberation, I decided on the Roasted Vegetable Sandwich, with roasted tomatoes, zucchini, squash, peppers and onions on deliciously toasted multigrain bread. Phoebe went for The Schmancy Pizza, which featured fresh tomato, two types of fresh mozzarella, creamy pesto sauce, red onion, and bacon.

 

As we waited anxiously for our delicious sounding meals outside on the patio, we had the wonderful opportunity to chat with owner Jeff Barney, who was kind enough to take a few minutes from his hectic day to speak to us about the culture of Saxapahaw. Barney attributed the success and popularity of Saxapahaw to its ability to reach such a wide audience. Saxapahaw offers something for everyone, with its laid back nature, delicious, local food, and of course, unparalleled sense of community.

 

There is no question that Saxapahaw is an incredibly unique place; a place that draws people of all ages and all backgrounds. Elon students are not exempt from those drawn to Saxapahaw. Will Stiefel, a senior at Elon raved about the Saxapahaw General Store, noting that he and his roommates deemed Thursday afternoons, “Saxapahaw Thursdays” and make the 25-minute trek willingly and eagerly, saying that the “quality and atmosphere are definitely worth the drive”. Will said:

 

I fell in love with Saxapahaw General Store on my very first visit. Their support of the local community and farms is evident the moment you walk in. Fresh, local ingredients, along with great preparation, make the food the best I’ve had since coming to school in NC. Not to mention, the employees are all charming and seem to remember everyone who stops in.

 

While Will has developed a love for Saxapahaw that brings him back there each week, Elon graduate Katie Kenney, who first discovered Saxapahaw through the help of Elon professor, Dr. Janet MacFall, as a junior, was so impressed by the small town that she found herself living there a year later, post graduation. The summer after her junior year, Katie lived in Elon, and spent time traveling to the small town for Saxapahaw Saturdays, as the town houses a farmers market and live music every Saturday during the summer. When offered a job to teach English in South Korea starting in the spring of 2013, Katie decided to live and work in the town that she grew to love, and feel a part of. Since the summer of 2012, Katie has been living in Saxapahaw and working at both The Eddy Pub and Saxapahaw General Store. Katie is inspired by the culture that Saxapahaw promotes, and never tires of seeing visitors become inspired by Saxapahaw, as well.

 

When asked about the food culture of Saxapahaw, Katie noted that it is the commitment to local food that draws people’s attention to this community, and connects them in a deep way. Saxapahaw is a community that supports each other so strongly, and through this support, has fostered and grown as a unique place that draws many different people in. As Katie so accurately states,

 

Food in Saxapahaw goes hand in hand with respect for the community. The community is supported economically through sourcing local produce, meat, and goods (think wine, candles, t-shirts, and handicrafts) while bringing people together. Saxapahaw is very small, and it’s the General Store and Eddy Pub that bring people together. Both are full of regulars, people who support our mission wholeheartedly. People gather here for music, for trivia nights, and for celebrations. Food and community are synonymous here, and it definitely makes Saxapahaw a special place.

 

There is no question that Saxapahaw is a special place; a place with a dedication to community and local food, which will continue to strive and grow in its uniqueness.

 

 

Mayberry’s

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By Olivia James

At first sight, Mayberry’s looks like a typical soup and sandwich shop in downtown Brevard.  However, it was the only place open for breakfast, and was recommended to us by people working at the local newspaper.  It was clearly new, but had a rustic feel.  As we sat at the bar, we noticed baked goods lining the counter and self-serve drinks against the back wall.  The seating hostess doubled as our waitress and was very friendly, and willing to talk with us about our project and the town.  It was clearly a local place- as soon as one couple walked in, the waitress put two tables together.  At first it seemed odd, but after a few minutes the chairs around the couple filled up and we realized that they had a breakfast group that came in every Saturday morning.

We did not have to wait long for our food, although the restaurant was not crowded at that early hour.  The menu was primarily southern cuisine, which was expected by the advertising of the barbeque sandwiches outside of the restaurant.  When our plates arrived, the portions were larger than expected.  I had the French toast, which was cut thick and very sweet, with a side of grits.  The grits were plain and did not have flavor, but were not lumpy as grits can tend to be.  One of my classmates ordered fried eggs, grits, bacon and toast.  The eggs were done well- fried crispy with a runny yoke- and the portion size was more than enough.  Another classmate ordered home fries, which she enjoyed, but was less than enthusiastic about the vegetable omelet. My other classmate had a waffle that she liked, but did not standout to her at all.

Overall, the price was low, especially for the portion size.  While it was not an out-of-this-world breakfast, it was hearty, southern food and filled us up for the long day ahead.

Jockey’s Ridge: Breathless Oasis

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By Brittany Wheatley
I have left the plain, and each sinking step brings my wandering mind back to that realization.
The grains of sand pivot around your skin until you’ve sunk ankle deep; from the bottom of the
dune you look like a human growth on the East Coast largest sand dunes.
From the bottom of the first dune I felt that I was about to climb a really short mountain.
Breathless at the top, the trail of footprints looks like I stumbled, but no one would pay much
attention to my footprints here. The expanse of sand and the lack of a beaten path make my
leftover markings unremarkable to other people.
There are people here; at one count I spotted 28 people, but from where I stood, each individual
was an ant. A football stadium full of fans could walk on to Jockey’s Ridge, go in separate
directions and not meet their friends again for at least 24 hours. To me this is better than being at
the beach; the quiet where I can only hear wind whistles and uses the nearest American Beach
Grass as an alternative instrument. The reeds are sparse in number overall, nestled close to the
small puddle shaped lakes coming from heavy rain in the valley of the dunes.
The plant life was a surprise when I walked up the first dune. I paused in at the patch of forest
areas spread out in front of me and exclaimed: “Oh my gosh, there’s trees! There’s like this
random patch of trees.” Inside the forests, live oaks, red cedars, wax myrtle, bayberry, and read
oaks only make up a portion of the maritime thinckets. Per typical of arial perspective, the
patches looked more like broccoli bits separated on the plate. Expanses of desert shorter dunes
than the one I stood mesmerized was filled with the potential adventure I didn’t have time for.
A person can go to Jockey’s Ridge everyday of the week for years and never experience it the
same way. My experience was that of a wanderer. Turing left for ten minutes and then right for
thirty, zigzagging up one dune and down to the valley of the other side. A windmill marked the
entrance of my journey, like an enormous flag without marring the ocean view. The sand dunes
change, constantly blowing over and being built up by the wind current coming off the Atlantic
Ocean, although that in and of it’s self makes the exploration of the sand dunes an exceptional
joy. 420 acres of sand may never be walked over.
I spotted a couple who were dog walking, there was no leash and in the space of allotted, no
peace the barking dogs could bother. A family with five kids use a sand dune closer to the
entrance as a water slide. All members lined up to watch one another slide down wetted beach
sand into the shallow lakes bellow, cheering at the splash and no doubt enjoying nature’s toy and
the lack of lines that come with the territory of a manmade water slide. It’s a very safe, kid
friendly adventure. The lakes barely reach up to the shoulders of a nine-year-old boy lying down.
And the vantage point of being on a sand dune rather than flat beach is the ability to see the
actions of little kids from whatever direction they are headed easily.
I was able to observe their adventure and wade in the water as well; up to my ankles without the
fear of a currant taking me by surprise or kids tossing water up and splashing me by accident.
I’m also not in the way of young and old hang gliders, coming back from a lesson two or three
dunes outside of my exploration area. Free permits to hang glide are available through the park
office for those who have a valid USHGA rating, but for those interested in flight but do not wish
to their feet to leave the ground, the sand dunes are an ideal spot to fly kites.

Brothers

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By Will Stiefel

Our last stop on Highway 64, before reaching Tennessee, was the small town of Murphy. We pulled into Murphy early in the afternoon when the sun was at its hottest. At first, it seemed like the entire town was going out of business. Storefronts down almost every street were boarded up or had for sale signs in the window. Looking for a good, local place to eat seemed like it might be a challenge. However, we luckily ran into two Murphy residents just closing up shop as we walked down town. The two men ran a father and son law firm and were nothing but polite, helpful, and pleasant for the duration of our conversation.

 

When we asked the two men where we should eat, they told us that most of the locals eat regularly at Brother’s Restaurant. This sounded perfect, fitting right in line with the kind of place we wanted to track down. They then went on to describe directions to the restaurant. Their directions were great and almost humorously descriptive. In reality, Brothers was clearly visible about two blocks down the road where we stood. We piled back into our car and drove the two blocks in a rush to finish our driving by sundown.

 

Pulling up to Brothers, we had no idea what to expect. The front of the restaurant was quite large with aged wooden paneling running vertically across it. The moment we entered, we were caught of guard by the sheer size of the restaurant. It not only had a large waiting room and gift shop area, but also two separate dining rooms and a bar. No one seemed to be waiting and, even though there were many people seated eating, the restaurant was nowhere near capacity. We were ushered to a table near the back of the restaurant, a booth in fact. The hostess who seated us had an earpiece, indicating to me that things must get very busy here during their rush hours.

 

Our waitress was very pleasant and informed us that the owner, Dwayne Sneed, was not in that afternoon. She also pointed out that there were three separate Brothers location, indicating he might be at another instead. Upon hearing that Brothers was in fact a small chain restaurant, we were a little disheartened. Chain restaurants usually did not serve the best quality food or strongly represent their community. However, Murphy locals preferred Brothers so we stayed optimistic.

 

I ordered the fried green tomato BLT, one of their recommended dishes, and a side of fried pickles. Our food came out fairly quickly, which I could not decide was a good or bad sign. Unfortunately, it proved to be more negative than positive. The tomato was not very fresh and was tough to chew through. The breading on the tomato also seemed to slide off far too easily, making it a very unappetizing sandwich. The side of fried pickles had basically the same problem with their fried coating and proved to be not very good as well. Although I did not enjoy my meal, my friends seemed to somewhat approve of their dishes. Overall, I do not believe the food quality was in line with their high prices. That, along with the general tackiness of the western theme inside, made Brothers a mostly poor experience. I do not think I would recommend Brothers to anyone travelling through Murphy. However, this does not necessarily reflect the cuisine of Murphy as a whole. Given the chance, I would be happy to give another local restaurant a try.

 

Mocksville’s Town Cat

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By Chelsea Vollrath

 

As Paige and I sat in Restaurant 101, we both gazed out of the restaurant’s big front windows, taking in the sites of Mocksville while enjoying our lunch. Our eyes traced the main street as far as the windows would allow based on where we were sitting. We watched as a steady stream of men and women walked by, some stopping in the various shops lining the street, others continuing on to destinations unknown to us. One man in particular caught our attention. The metal knee brace on his left knee inhibited his walking ability and caused him to linger in front of the window longer than most passersby. Hadn’t he passed before? Wasn’t he just on this side of the street?

 

Considering the speed at which he was walking by the window and the number of times I saw him pass, he held my attention throughout most of the meal. I wondered why he kept walking by, seemingly without a specific destination in mind. I wanted to talk to him and find out more about him; dressed in a tattered denim shirt with a six inch rip down the back, acid-washed jeans, the knee-brace, heavily-worn work boots, and a backwards hat, he just looked interesting. I was too timid to approach him, though, so when we finished our meal we didn’t pursue finding him to start a conversation and just began our exploration of the town’s small shops and businesses. After leaving the first store and heading to the second, we passed him sitting on a bench on the sidewalk. We smiled politely and intended to keep walking, despite my interest in him, until he stopped us.

 

“Hey! Hey girls,” he called out to us. “Come here, I need to tell you something.”

Paige and I exchanged a skeptical glance, questioning if we should go talk to him. We chuckled, and turned around.

“Hello, sir. What’s up?”

He motioned with his index finger, encouraging us to come closer; we obliged.

“I want you to make me a promise.”

Again, Paige and I looked at each other, laughed, and nodded our heads in agreement. “Okay, what is it?”

“Stay beautiful. Just, stay beautiful. You’re both beautiful girls…and, and I just want you remember to stay beautiful.”

His words were muffled and difficult to understand, but his message was clear. We thanked him for his kindness, quietly laughed to each other and proceeded to walk on as he continued calling out after us.

 

We walked into the bookstore and talked to the storeowner, but when we left, the friendly townie was still sitting on the bench where we’d left him. We walked by him again, and this time as we were approaching, he initiated conversation. He asked us if we remembered our promise to him. We stated we did, but he proceeded to repeat himself. When he finished babbling about our promise to stay beautiful, we seized the opportunity to learn more about him; well, as best as we could. We asked how long he’s lived in Mocksville and he quickly responded he’s lived in the town for his entire life, calling himself “The Town Cat.” Yet again, Paige and I exchanged confused glances. The town cat? What does that mean? When we asked him, he seemed surprised we didn’t understand. He explained everyone calls him cat because he can’t remember people’s names so he calls everyone cat. “Cat” continued to tell us that, due to an accident that occurred when he was 16, he is paralyzed on the right side of his body and doesn’t have a good short-term memory. I was tempted to ask him to tell more about the accident but, afraid of offending him, I didn’t press the issue. I was still processing his explanation of being “The Town Cat,” anyway.

 

We tried to get him to comment on Highway 64 and its influence on the town, hoping he’d have more incite than most considering he’s lived there his whole life. That was wishful thinking.

“This is what I can tell you about Highway 64,” he began. He turned his hat around to be facing forward, before continuing. Pointing to his left, and then to his right, he explained, “It goes that way, and that way.” Again, we laughed. He hadn’t given us much information, but he certainly was amusing. We needed to move on, but before we did, Paige asked to take his picture. He agreed, but first insisted that he turn his hat backwards to show the hat’s message: “FBI: Forever Believer in Jesus.” He formed the shaka on his left hand.  “I want you to get a picture of how I always am,” he explained, and then Paige took the picture.

 

I shook his hand, told “Cat” it was nice to meet him, and wished him well before we continued on. He continued gesturing with the shaka, rotating it back and forth for emphasis, and reminded us, yet again, to stay beautiful.

Mackey’s Ferry Peanuts

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By: Phoebe Hyde

 

While cruising down the two-lane highway, a grass median as a barrier between the minimal oncoming traffic, we pulled a u-turn about ¼ of a mile past this traditional, Cracker Barrel-like establishment. The billboard for Mackey’s Ferry Peanuts had caught our eye about two miles back. “Mackey’s Ferry” rang a bell after our initial research of the outer banks region that once depended on Mackey’s Ferry to transport visitors from the mainland to the outer banks in the once-upon-a-time absence of a bridge connecting the mainland to the island. While handing us free samples of all sorts of treats, Pam (the employee working at the time), explained to us that original ownership of the establishment dates back twenty years, with the current owner holding authority for the past three.

A plethora of aromatic goodies fill the store, leaving not an empty space on any wooden bookcase-like shelf. From homemade peanut butter, peanuts, and peanut brittle, to 20 kinds of fudge, to molasses cookies awarded the 2010 Blue Ribbon from North Carolina’s Specialty Food Association, to North Carolina muscadine grape cider slushies, to moonshine jelly, Mackey’s can pretty much offer any cure for a sweet tooth. While about half of the store is canned products, each good is locally grown, making this establishment rather unique. The other half of the store if filled with tourist-focused items, inclusive of t-shirts, stuffed animals, mugs and other merchandise.

The substantial size of the building initially perplexed me, given the name of the establishment, which clearly dedicated the store to peanuts. What was so special about peanuts and why would such a place be located here amongst vast open fields in the quiet town of Jamesville? Well, I soon learned, upon additional research, that North Carolina is the third-largest peanut producer in the United States, right below Georgia and Texas. The state as a whole is home to more than five thousand peanut farmers in twenty-two counties. Now things started to make a bit more sense.

Mackey’s Ferry Peanuts housed a larger variety of peanuts than I had ever known even existed—dry roasted, blister fried, flame thrower, French fried, salt and pepper peanuts and more. My tolerance and fondness for heat made me partial to the flame thrower peanuts. Pam, however, preferred blister friend, which are made by soaking the peanuts in water prior to roasting them. As I spooned out my third helping of flamethrower peanuts from the free sample jar, I inquired about how all of these peanuts were made. Pam willingly shared the peanut making process with us. First the peanuts are roasted, then your grind them up and add molasses, salt and powdered sugar. The last ingredient threw me for a loop, but they sure as hell tasted good! We learned that eight people at Mackey’s Ferry Peanuts are in charge of making the peanuts each Monday of every week, allowing the peanuts to be served the following day. However, eight quickly turns into about 16 employees around Christmas time, according to Pam.

We were pleased with our choice to stop into Mackey’s Ferry Peanuts for a tasteful snack before proceeding another hour or so eastwards along Highway 64, and would recommend choosing Mackey’s Ferry Peanuts as a pit stop to break up the long westward drive down the straight, two-lane highway when leaving the beach!

 

 

Highlands Shop owners

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By: Olivia James

On our way back from Franklin, we took all the windy turns through the
mountains to Highlands.  Highlands looked nothing like Franklin,
especially since the downtown area was right on Highway 64.  We were
surprised by the renovated area that looked more like a Swiss lodge town
than the rural country town of Franklin.  The narrow street was lined
with boutiques, cafes and ski shops, and we decided to get a better
look.

The first store we stopped in was stocked to the ceiling with any type of
gear you would deem necessary for the mountains.  They carried many
popular brands, such as TOMs shoes, but they also carried lesser-known
items geared more for people who live in the mountains and are avid
outdoorsmen.  The storeowners did not know much about the reconfiguring
of Highway 64, but did mention that the town had changed significantly
in the last 10-15 years.  We headed out the door in search of more
information.

The second shop we walked into was more of a Native American heritage shop,
but also contained rocks and minerals from around the area, and various
carvings from natural elements.  The owners were more than willing to
talk to us about the town.  First, they explained why the roads we had
just driven down were so windy- according to town legend, they were
formed by Native Americans who were hunting buffalo, who followed
smaller animals’ paths through the mountains.  Next, they explained to
us that the town had a steady group of tourists year-round.  Many people
from Florida would come in the summer for the rivers, or in the winter
for skiing.  Although the town was difficult to get to, people were
pouring money into it to make it the next big resort town.  From the
street, this was already apparent.

They then explained the look and revival of the town.  A multi-millionaire
had found the town and built a spa and resort in the middle of town,
hoping to bring in revenue for the area.  He has been successful in that
many people have travelled through the narrow, rural roads to stay at
the resort, and the town has built up around that success.  Highlands
claims many celebrities as vacationers, especially during the summer
months.  For the most part, businesses have come from other neighboring
areas with the hopes of earning more in Highlands due to the resort.
The change that has come has created a very young Highlands- one that
does not remember the rerouting of highway 64, and primarily serves
business owners and vacationers as residents.

We stopped for a cup of coffee and wandered down the street to explore the
downtown area, before jumping in the car and heading to dinner at the
Carolina Smokehouse, which was recommended by Highlands residents.

Hendersonville Shop owners

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By: Olivia James

Our group arrived in Hendersonville on a perfect fall morning.  We parked
the car and strolled through the center of downtown.  Our timing was
such that as we were arriving in Hendersonville so were the bikers who
had left from Brevard that morning on the Mountains to Coast trail.
Stores were opening their doors to the bustle the bikers were causing
and we were free to stop in.
Downtown Hendersonville is home to a variety of stores, restaurants, bakeries,
cafes and bars.  As we explored, we talked to the storeowners about the
area and our project.  There seemed to be a general consensus about the
town and its growing population.  Hendersonville is now the small town
that Asheville used to be but as Asheville grew, so did Hendersonville.
The population of Hendersonville had grown, according to the shop
owners, because of the influx of vacationers from Florida and the
surrounding areas.  Many of the people we talked do had only been in
Hendersonville a few years, emphasizing the fact that the community is
young and growing.  The small businesses are coming into the area in
order to capitalize on the growth that they have seen in recent years.
While Hendersonville did have foreclosed signs in some store windows, the
downtown area looked vibrant that day.  Many owners attributed the
success of Hendersonville to Asheville tourists who wanted to explore
the more rural areas.  Many storefronts have been redone in recent years
to attract more people, but there is still that old, rural, small town
feel as you walk down the street.  Hendersonville, like Highlands, is
filled with young people who have relocated for business opportunities,
and the town is growing despite the loss the Highway 64 in the middle of
town.

CNC Mountains to the Coast

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By: Will Stiefel

We were fortunate to catch the start of the renowned Cycle North Carolina
“Mountains to the Coast” bike trip, which coincided with our visits to
Brevard and Hendersonville. This year the trip, hosted by North Carolina
Amateur Sports, celebrated it’s fourteenth annual journey from the
western Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina to the it’s eastern
shore. Bikers began their trek on September 28th in the sleep college
town of Brevard. Here, we saw a few early arrivals warming up with trips
throughout Brevard’s surrounding mountainous territory. It would be a
later in the when all 1,100 participants came together to begin the
first leg.

The entire trip adds up to 450 miles of biking from Brevard College to
Carolina Beach. Each biker tends to ride from 40-80 miles per day, a
physical demand drawing only the avid bike enthusiast. However, because
much of this trip is downhill, anyone of any age has the potential to
complete it. The average age of participants is 56, but this year it
ranges from a 5-year old to an 84-year old. Many participants that we
spoke to in the older age range attributed a large portion their bike
enthusiasm to the inability to run anymore due to arthritis or poor knee
health. The next best thing they seemed to think to do was to bike, and
what better a trip to do it on.

The trip coincides with the beginning of fall in western North Carolina,
arguably it’s most beautiful season. As the leaves change, the bikers
coast through both scenic and historical locations such as Hickory Nut
Gorge, Chimney Rock Park, Ellenboro Historic Train Depot, Hamlet Train
Station and Museum, Historic John Blue House, UNC Pembroke, Lu Mil
Vineyard, Jones Lake State Park, Moore’s Creek Battleground, River Road
Park, Intercoastal Waterway and the Carolina Beach Boardwalk. These
beautiful and historically fascinating locations that crop up throughout
North Carolina’s back roads showcase the cultural and geographic
diversity of the state. This is one of the many draws of the trip that
brings over a 1,000 bikers each year.

Bikers who participated this year hailed from 38 states including a portion of
enthusiasts from international locations. Citizens of Canada, British
Columbia, Russia, Great Britain, and Switzerland were all drawn to North
Carolina for this revered event. This year was especially significant
because it marks the first time the bike route will run through downtown
Charlotte. Bikers road on bike-safe roads through the city taking in
its sites and history. The trip is not as much about completing the long
journey as it is about enjoying what town visited has to offer. The
trip finish takes riders to the sandy shores of Carolina Beach. Here,
the town will allow bikers to camp on the beach for the first time this
year.

Throughout the trip, the majority of bikers spend their night stops camping near
the route. Others stay in hotels or bed and breakfasts along the way,
though most are booked months in advance. The overnight stops include
Lake Lure, Shelby, Matthews, Rockingham, Lumberton, and White Lake.
These stops are strategically chosen to break up the trip into even
stretches, both in terms of distance and difficulty. However,
participants are not required to complete the entire journey if they do
not feel up to it. Alternative options include multiple or single day
trips. These trips still help Cycle North Carolina to achieve the
event’s overall goals and participants for shorter portions are always
encouraged to come out.

Cycle North Carolina ends it’s cycling season with this cumulative event.
Riding from mountains to shore gives those who participate a sense of
the entire state, providing the organization with an appropriate season
finale. They hope that the trip will help achieve their goals of
promoting healthy lifestyles and providing economic impact to North
Carolina’s rural communities. Each town that hosts a stop along the way
is significantly benefited by increased business and exposure due to a
thousand-plus visitors. The organization estimates that the event’s
economic benefit ranges from two-hundred to five-hundred thousand
dollars every year. This is an extremely impressive, helpful amount that
both CNC and the participants are very proud of. The last bikers we ran
into on our trip, stopping in Hendersonville for coffee, could not hold
back their smiles and excitement for what lay ahead. We’re sure it was
nothing short of spectacular as they took in all of the sights and
history North Carolina’s roadways have to offer.