For now, I’ve got a ton of photos. Enjoy!

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There I was in Asheville, wandering around on a sunny autumn day, when I spotted this strange berry:

My first reaction was “wow, that sure looks like a poison berry to me.” So I didn’t eat it—but gosh, that thing looked so amazingly toxic, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Never did find out what it was.

So I’m asking you, Southerners and foragers and armchair botanists: how are my instincts? What is that? Was I right not to chew on it? Or should I have merrily popped it in my mouth and gathered more for supper?

Comment below if you’ve got an idea.

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Post tags: adventure, Asheville, berries, botany, buy nothing, education, environment, featured posts, foraging, freegan, gardening, green living, nature, North Carolina, outdoors, photography

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While in Asheville, I spent a few hours wandering the trails at the Botanical Gardens. According to a sign posted there, the Southern Appalachians have the richest diversity of native plants anywhere outside of the tropics. Who knew?

The Botanical Gardens, which abut the UNC campus, were filled with people enjoying the shaded glens and free admission. Students played frisbee on the grass; young girls scampered along the creekbed; a flock of tourists followed a guide along the trails. Me, I just walked and looked. Here’s some of what I saw.

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1. Hear live music on a streetcorner.

On a sunny day, the downtown area is always populated with buskers. Sometimes it’s your basic guy-with-a-guitar setup; sometimes there are a few dudes in overalls or tweed; sometimes it’s a full band with amplification. One sure thing is that you won’t have to walk far to find a street performer to tickle your ears for free (donations appreciated).

2. Feed your head at Malaprop’s Bookstore.

Granted, Malaprop’s is a business, so they also appreciate monetary contributions. But if you’re broke, spend a buck on coffee and peruse their incredible selection of literature.

This store is one of the places that convinced me so utterly of Asheville’s uniqueness. In fact, Malaprop’s seems to assume that its clientele is highly intelligent, educated in self-sufficiency, and actively committed to social/environmental change.

And there’s the proof: a book on Cattle Health in the Green Living section? We’re not in San Francisco any more.

3. Take a nature walk.

While exploring downtown, I picked up a map that indicated there was a botanical garden next to the UNC campus. Heading out that way, I stumbled across the Reed Creek “interpretive trail”, which was a hugely educational resource. It guides you through an area that was once occupied by buildings; along the trail, a series of signs informs you of what was here, what’s here now and why. In the space of a city block or two, I learned a ton about local history and botany.

The Reed Creek trail lets out near the Asheville Botanical Gardens, a huge and beautifully-managed set of trails, greens and buildings. It’s an easy walk, and just like at Reed Creek, the Botanical Gardens are full of information on native species. Make sure you stop at the creek, an excellent spot for a wee nosh and/or nap in the dappled sunlight.

Click for more photos of Reed Creek and the Botanical Gardens.

4. Go on a self-guided art tour.

As I mentioned recently, Asheville is full of art both strange and beautiful. From the underpass mural, to political graffiti, to statuary both commissioned and independent, there’s art all over the place. And that’s just on the sidewalk—but there are also tons of art galleries for your browsing pleasure.

Don’t miss Chicken Alley, a strange little street that looks straight out of New Orleans or Oakland. It’s haunted by living artists and one dead doctor: Dr. Jamie Smith was killed in a 1902 barfight and still hangs around the place.

If you’re more into modern-age ephemera, guess what? Chicken Alley’s got free wifi. Yippee!

5a. (for hippies) Hippie out at the Drum Circle.

photo by BillRhodesPhoto

Apparently this is a big deal, but I am somewhat opposed to drum circles. If they’re your thing, that’s super! There’s a giant one here every Friday night, on Patton Avenue. Just follow the smell of patchouli and sounds of wild djembe.

5b. (for nerds and queers) Get your summer Shakespeare fix.

photo by Zen

What self-respecting town doesn’t have a free Shakespeare-in-the-park series these days? Asheville is right on point, offering free performances all summer (Friday, Saturday & Sunday nights only). The address is #1 Gay Street, so you ought to feel right at home.

Want more, more, more free stuff? I know right? Cheapskate your heart out at Asheville’s official Free Things to Do page.

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The word “Asheville” followed me across America. I first heard it uttered while picking dandelions in Paonia; after that, I heard it spoken of in nearly every city I visited. “Asheville,” people would say. “You gotta go to Asheville.”

So I went. They were right.

How to describe it? Well, it’s like taking all the best parts of Nevada City, Portland and Berkeley, and sticking the whole thing in the middle of beautiful mountains with gorgeous weather.

I almost feel like I shouldn’t tell you about it, because it’s a secret that wants to be kept. Locals and tourists alike recognize the yuppie wolf at Asheville’s door: moneyed do-gooders in Priuses and SUVs, ready to move in and pour their Starbucks all over this fiercely independent town.

But to be honest, I don’t see how a bunch of yuppies could possibly change a town this strong in spirit.

And anyway, rich folks discovered Asheville hundreds of years ago.

photo by Exothermic

This used to be Cherokee land, but the natives were unceremoniously exterminated and Asheville slowly grew into a hillbilly township. After the Civil War, one George Washington Vanderbilt decided to construct a “little mountain escape” just outside of town: that property became the Biltmore Estate (largest house in America).

Funny thing about the Biltmore Estate, however: unlike many gilded mansions, this one was intended to be self-supporting. The United States’ first forestry school was founded here; there were farms, gardens, a dairy, and scientific programs for managing all sorts of resources.

That’s one trend that held true throughout my visit to Asheville: people here seem to be united by a true love for the land, and an active interest in understanding and managing it.

That may be due to the fact that there are mountains everywhere you look. Beautiful, rolling blue hills encircle the city, omnipresent in the background, patient, serene and enticing. It would be hard to live here and not be enchanted by the landscape—and certainly, the town attracts a very specific type of person for just that reason.

In the middle of town, there’s an underpass mural that is far and away the best I’ve ever seen. Created by the Asheville Mural Project, it features portraits of locals, chosen by nomination. There’s a woman spinning wool; a man with a shovel; a cyclist; a city planner; a gardener; musicians; dancers; and a snake-haired tattoo artist. The message is clear: this town loves the alternative, the artistic, and the sustainable.

  

  

It rained the first two days I was in Asheville, and when the sun re-emerged, so did the entire town. The streets were crawling with buskers: young dudes in old-timey clothes playing old-timey music. Sort of like a bumpkin Nashville… and in every corner without live music, there was a piece of weird art. The place was bursting with creativity, and the Carolina sun graced it all with glorious color.

Over the next couple of days, I’ll tell you about some of the specifics of my time in Asheville. If you can’t wait, check out my photos.

© jessicareeder for Uprooted, an eco/travel blog, 2010. | Permalink | 9 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: alternative, Asheville, community, ecotourism, ecotravel, featured posts, nature, North Carolina, outdoors, tourism, travel

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Enjoy the show, and I’ll see you next week.

© jessicareeder for Uprooted, an eco/travel blog, 2010. | Permalink | 2 comments | Add to del.icio.us
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An extra photo post for y’alls: I’d been in New Hampshire for a few weeks, and had descended into a mild state of computer addiction. Jamie called one day to invite me on a hike, and it turned out to be one of the best days of my entire journey.

We hiked ten miles that day through the White Mountains, on a beautiful trail past marshes, through forests, along the banks of empty ravines. The mountains out here are old and empty, decaying gradually in landslides. The woods are dark and deep. It was unlike any landscape I knew, but my guides had been hiking here for a decade. They knew exactly where to go.

When we reached Thoreau Falls, we had to go off-trail, scrambling down an almost-vertical slope through rotting, mossy branches. The falls landed in a series of pools, and the water was a deep reddish-orange. High iron content? Iron bacteria? Maybe, but we swam anyway, and basked, and then hot-footed it back through the fading light. A beautiful hike, and one I almost missed.

Thank you, New Hampshire.

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Post tags: adventure, ecotourism, hiking, nature, New Hampshire, outdoors, photography, thoreau falls, travel, water, white mountains

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It was August, but it was also Maine. The air was cool and wet and smelled of the sea. We had left the New Hampshire Farmhaus, crossed the border into Kittery Point, and kept heading east until we hit the Seapoint beach.

Seapoint is one of those public beaches that are so beautiful, the local residents try to claim it as their own. You have to have a parking sticker proving that you live in Kittery Point, or you could get a ticket for leaving your car around. But the fog was thick and the sun was dropping, so we took our chances.

The waves were low and flat and gray, and so was the sky. They met and melded just a few meters from the sand: the waves appeared to be descended from the clouds, and it seemed you could walk right out on their foamy tips and end up in the ether.

I didn’t try. Instead, I clambered over slippery rocks, inspected seaweed and shells and discarded crab traps, took a few photos, waxed philosophical while gazing at the grey sea… and that was Maine, my only time in Maine.

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A little perspective: This is one of very few places in the Americas where you can watch the sun set over the Atlantic. It may be the only place where you can then cross a pier and watch it rise again. Enjoy the show.

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Post tags: atlantic, cape cod, ecotourism, Massachusetts, outdoors, photography, Provincetown, sunrise, sunset, tourism, travel, water

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