Within ten minutes of arriving in Cashiers, NC, I knew I wouldn't want to leave. I followed my instincts and stayed for two nights and three days. I easily could have stayed longer. I had intended to keep driving, but something pulled me off the road. I might say it was the attractive sign and well-tended grounds in front of the Cottage Inn, on my right as I approached Cashiers westbound on Hwy 64. But the real answer is serendipity. I walked up just as Judy Gray was closing the office. Owner and innkeeper with her husband, Gordon, she greeted me with enthusiasm, introduced me to other guests, and told me about the property and cottages. I was soon settled into Poplar Place, a wonderful cabin-type accommodation, complete with bed, bath, kitchen, writing table, couch, wood-burning fireplace and outside porch. It felt like home from the second I walked in. A guest phone in the nearby parking lot even allowed me Internet access while sitting beneath the trees. It was perfect, very reasonably priced and immaculately clean. I was a happy No. Carolina camper. Gordon recommended several restaurants in town. I would come to find out that Cashiers is packed with excellent choices for fine dining, as well as options for casual fare. I looked over the possibilities and settled on The Market Basket, which turned out to be exactly what it sounds like, a former market turned restaurant. Tables were spread between remaining market shelves and bear statues climbed support poles, surrounded by various pieces of artwork. With the live music of Joe Walton, a regular for many years, flowing from a corner piano, I took a seat at a table with a tree-trunk votive and wooden bear in the center. I ordered a delicious pasta dish and enjoyed watching a nearby family group celebrate a fifty-fifth wedding anniversary. Great place. Back in my cabin later, I built a fire for the late evening hours, when the mountain air took on a chill. Gordon had loaned me a book on local history, so I curled up on the couch and read, finally turning in for a good night's sleep. I didn't opt the next day to explore local galleries and shops, though Cashiers, like nearby Highlands, has many. Instead I headed for the hills, so to speak, hiking to impressive Whitewater Falls, then heading over to Whitewater Equestrian Center, where I had the luxury of being the only person for the 4:00 trail ride. For one amazing hour, under the skilled guidance of Kaye (and expert steps of Sunny, my assigned horse), I wound along old logging roads adjoining Gorges State Park. It was a breathtaking ride through the lush spring green of the Blue Ridge Mountain foothills. Well worth the $30. riding fee. I was also given a great tour of the stables by teen worker Brittany, who introduced me to many of the well-cared-for the horses, including an adorable pony named Skittles. Meeting Brittany, a beautiful, bright and enthusiastic young lady, was a highlight of the day. I had a chance to explore a bit more of the Cashiers area before heading out the following day. I stopped into Two Hands, a gallery on Hwy 64 with some wonderful pieces of art. I grabbed another great meal at Lightwater Grille, where I was fortunate to get a railside table on the outdoor balcony, even without a reservation (strongly recommended). A stop at the Farmer's Market gave me a chance to pick up some local jam, as well as to meet Biscuit, the friendly pot-bellied pig. I got to hear a little outdoor bluegrass music at the Smokehouse and stopped by Schoolhouse Coffee to take a few photos, unfortunately after it was closed for the day. And I fit in one more waterfall hike, this one from a secret "treasure map of waterfalls" that Cottage Inn has available for guests: At Gordon's suggestion, I grab my treasure map of local waterfalls and head south out of Cashiers on Rte. 107. Just over four miles down the road, I pull over into a gravel area where the guard rail splits. I can see the trail from the car, so I grab my camera, lock the vehicle and start hiking. I know I'm in the right place, though there's no sign by the side of the road. After all, this is secret treasure I'm after, this is the reason I have the map. The path isn't steep and it's clearly well traveled. Obviously others have the secret directions, too. Hints of what lies ahead come to me through the breeze, mixed sounds of wind and water, growing stronger as I continue down the trail. Gnarled roots jut out into the dirt, twisting above and around each other. Sounds of birds echo through the mountain air. The leaves and bushes are still, though I know there could be rustling at any time. Wildlife is not a stranger to these Blue Ridge Mountains. I approach a wooden bridge, newly constructed and rough in nature. Basic and sturdy, it leads me a few steps up, a few more across, and finally closer to my goal. The sound of water grows louder now, as I follow the curving path. Pine trees tower above me and the sun is hidden among thick branches and leaves. The bridge behind me, I round several corners and see the sunlight open up in the distance. Hurrying now, I ready my camera, as if what I seek may disappear quickly when I find it. I'm almost there. I take the last few feet of the trail with one giant leap and step into the light and sound. The trees fall back into open space and I look up to see tumbling white water rushing down from the granite above. Sun reflects brightly on the cascading water and mist sprays into the open air. I know I have found Silver Run Falls. Slick, flat walls of rock climb before me, trickles of water running down through cracks, passing over loose leaves and twigs along the way. I look around and there is no one. Amazingly, I have this paradise to myself. A narrow, sandy beach wraps around the rocks below. Logs form a natural passageway to the base of the waterfall. I climb the logs and make my way to flat rocks and from there hop to yet another rock, even closer. I can feel the spray of the water on my face now. The sun flirts with the scene by fading in and out, dancing with scattered clouds. Still there is no one there. Looking up into the water itself, I work to keep my balance and take advantage of the photo opportunity. Between shots, I simply stand in awe of the power of this water, which plunges forcefully into pool below. Finally, I simply sit down, oblivious to the mist that now clings to my clothing, carefree in my solitude with nature. I close my eyes and hear nothing but the sound of rushing water, feel only the warmth of the sun on my face, smell the fragrance of spring's windswept leaves. It is a perfect moment. Treasure is an understatement for what I have found. Wonderful doesn't quite tell it all. And Glorious leaves something to be desired. Perhaps a word doesn't even exist to describe it. But I'll be forever grateful to Gordon for pointing me in the direction of this trail, this tumbling water, and this moment of peace. Both Cottage Inn and the town of Cashiers will be forever planted in my memory as a little mountain miracle on a long cross-country drive. Whitewater Falls was spectacular and Silver Run Falls, a secret treasure. Market Basket offered excellent dining. And the trail ride at Whitewater Equestrian Center was breathtaking. Judy and Gordon were the perfect hosts. I'll definitely be back. Even coming from California, it's well worth the drive. If You Go:
Cottage Inn
The Market Basket
Whitewater Equestrian Center
              
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