By Hillary Dooley, 2013
I was eager to get on the road, leaving from Elon, NC in order to arrive in Murphy, NC before nightfall. The drive was going well as country music, mostly a combination of Taylor Swift and Alan Jackson, played in the background. It was only when we reached the mountains on the other side of Asheville that the drive got difficult. I was tired and hungry, as I am sure everyone else was, and we had just come to a dead stop on the highway. The cars in front of us weren’t moving, and for about 45 minutes, neither were we. I was annoyed and angry, but when I heard the helicopter overhead, I knew that something horrible must have happened. My anger and hunger subsided into a more anxious feeling, that feeling you get when you know something terrible is happening and you have no control over it. As we rounded the corner to view police cars, ambulances, and dozens of uniformed personnel directing traffic, I got even more worried. I said a silent prayer for everyone that was involved, especially the driver of the mangled and up-side-down motorcycle that lay on the side of the road. However, this anxious start to the trip faded away as we pulled into the Hampton Inn in Murphy. I was thrilled with all the complimentary food and the white fluffy comforters that engulfed my whole body. After a brief, but longer than we wanted dinner at Doyles, we all slipped into bed.
The next morning was full of more complimentary food, a visit with the Murphy Mayor; Bill Hughes is one of a kind and talking to him for over an hour about his time as Mayor and Principal and his love of the railroad on this Saturday morning was one of the highlights of my trip. We also made a stop at the Fall Festival in Brasstown, NC. Despite it being October, it was about 90 degrees out, but this didn’t stop us from browsing the tents with hand made soap, paintings, jewelry, fudge, scarves, jams, and more. After an enjoyable Italian sausage sandwich, I stopped by the small table of a vender named Gene Russell. He was selling jewelry, and I couldn’t let myself walk by. Russell is a retired from the Navy and found a new hobby in carving coins he collected while serving his country. He explained how it took him about two months to learn, but after that, he was in love with the art. As I looked at the gorgeous coins, one caught my eye. It was a heron carved from a Hungarian coin. Since I was a little girl and spent all my summers in Maine herons have always had a special place in my heart, so I decided to commemorate this trip and the Fall Festival in Brasstown by buying this coin that was attached to a chain to make a necklace.
After a successful morning with the Mayor of Murphy and a Festival in Brasstown, we began to make our way to Franklin with plans to stop at Deal Farm along the way to get apples. Our Deal Farm stop was probably one of my favorites. Joe Deal, the owner of the farm, was sitting in his office rustling through paperwork, and we shyly approached him. He talked to us for about half an hour about his farm, his family, and the variety of apples he grew. It was a refreshing experience, and I purchased some Old Fashion Lime Pickles to try. Unfortunately, I did not like these as much as I had liked Joe Deal, but I am not going to hold that against him. Ingredients included cucumbers, sugar, water, vinegar, cinnamon, cloves, and erythorbic acid to promote color. I think it was the overwhelming cinnamon smell and taste with my pickles was a little too much for me to handle.
We drove into Franklin and parked at our motel. It was one of those sketchy motels that you see on Lifetime movies right before someone goes missing, and as four college girls staying alone, we had a choice to make. I honestly didn’t feel comfortable there, but we had already paid the bill and where else would we go? It was about an hour of discussion, anxiety, intervals of silence, and long phone conversations with parents before we decided a move was necessary. Once again the Hampton Inn came to the rescue, and I now officially consider this chain to be my preferred hotel of choice. After a quick check-in and dinner at the Boiler Room, we walked into the Smoky Mountain Performing Arts Center to see Dave Coulier perform. Why he was in Franklin, NC, I cannot say, but I will say that he is hilarious.
On Sunday, we made our way back to Elon stopping along several Highway 64 towns along the way. We made a quick stop at Cashiers to enjoy the Cashiers Farmers Market with Riley the golden retriever who captured all of our hearts. We also fueled up with some delicious coffee at Bucks Coffee Shop, which wasn’t a normal coffee shop. I ordered my hot apple cider (which was better than any of the powder cider mixes or large jugs of cider I have had before because really tasted like an apple in liquid form) and scanned the room to find out why it was called Bucks—there were actually several deer heads mounted on the walls of this coffee shop. However, it brought a natural vibe to the place, and sitting in the leather seats with huge deer overhead was an experience that was calming and one I will never forget. The back of the shop was also an odds-and-ends store with furniture for sale, paintings, and even some jewelry.
This warm mug of cider held me over until lunch at the Square Root in Brevard, NC where I was reminded of how small the world really is when the man next to me said that he was born in the same hospital in Pennsylvania that I was. With great conversation and a delicious lunch in my stomach, I was more than happy to stop by the chocolate store across the street to buy chocolate covered Oreos and graham crackers. After spending an hour walking around Brevard, exploring craft and furniture stores and the local diner, we hopped in the car to make our way back to Elon.
The drive home was tiring, but as we shared our stories from the trip, I realized that the North Carolina Mountains is a beautiful area. The Highway 40 we were on didn’t even compare to the rolling hills, vast waterfalls, vibrant leaves, and dazzling lakes that Highway 64 has to offer. However, I learned more than just to appreciate the scenery. This was something I had expected as we set out, but what I didn’t expect was to meet so many intriguing individuals. From Bill Hughes to Gene Russell to Joe Deal, I had learned more about mountain life than I could have hoped for. Each encounter made me want to open up more and talk to more people about their lives in the unique mountain region of North Carolina. I can easily say that one weekend wasn’t enough, and I look forward to my next trip back.