Fortunately, there hasn’t been a hurricane through these parts since Helene devastated the region in 2024, so the area has been able to grit its teeth and bootstrap its recovery. In the first week of October 2026, Tropical Storm Isaias gathered speed and became a full-blown Category 3, and model after model showed the storm headed squarely for Western North Carolina. The city, and in fact the entire state, held its collective breath and waited. Today it hit.
Sleeping in, we hear the wind and rain outside our window. It comes in waves all day, short periods of gale followed by equally short periods of calm. Because of the weather we drive the dozen blocks to Early Girl, a farm-to-table eatery, for a late morning comfort breakfast that definitely, absolutely, included extra bacon gravy on the side… just to dip… just to see how it feels. We learn that there is no possible way to take a picture of such a breakfast that is anything close to appetizing, but we do spend a leisurely hour drinking far too many coffee refills.
A few blocks away is the Grove Arcade, constructed in 1928 as America’s first indoor shopping mall. Elegant in the Goth Revival meets Art Deco style, the place is now home to an eclectic mix of shops and restaurants, and today’s downtime offers us a good excuse to check it out. The weather kicks up again, so we head back to the hotel to enjoy the comfortable room and catch up on some long-needed rest.
It’s still raining when we pull ourselves together for dinner, so we don’t venture far. Blackbird is right on the first floor of our Aloft, and it looked enticing every time we walked by. It ended up being a fine choice in a city full of fine choices. Our bartender, transplanted 5 years ago from Buffalo, is sweet and professional, making some excellent food recommendations and even better martinis. We start with Fruit of the Sea, mussels and clams in a delicious tarragon white wine broth. I get the local catfish stuffed with crab. Mandy’s Roasted Beet and Zucchini Salad is art on a plate, paper thin slices of each well-dressed veggie stacked like a colorful top hat, and the unlikely addition of spiced pecans and pancetta make it taste as good as it looks.
It’s still raining, but by all accounts, the damage will thankfully be very minimal. The streets are surprisingly busy, the tourists undeterred in their mission to have a fun weekend. We zip up our rain jackets and push on. First stop is Cork and Keg, a bottle shop with a bar and stage. The band is playing 50s rock and roll, fine music but just not what we’re here for. Rezip and bounce to Fitz and the Wolf for Bryce Hensley, a local country act with a booming voice and easy sense of humor. He gets the half-filled room on their feet for song after song, and we loved his originals. The band’s rendition of You Don’t Have to Call Me Darling, Darling, may be the most entertaining we have ever seen and had us all singing at the top of our lungs.
It’s a longer walk than we wanted in the rain, but we brave the weather one more time and make it to the 5 Walnut wine bar. Well worth the trek, we catch The Field’s Trio, a talented local jazz combo doing a mix of covers and originals. We sip and hold hands and enjoy the tunes until the band calls it quits.
Sunday morning is sunny, the calm after the storm. We get a couple of breakfast sambos for the car and head out to drive the Blue Ridge Parkway. But the remnants of yesterday’s storm have other plans for us. All but about 2 miles of the The All American Road are closed, unsafe to pass because of the overflowed streams still washing down the road. So we do as we do, regroup, replan, regoogle.
We find a nice hike at Bent Creek Experimental Forest. We’ve never been in an experimental forest before, but it looks remarkably like a regular forest with trees and hills and stuff. Maybe that’s the experiment. Maybe it’s really The Matrix and we just think we’re in the forest. Wow, I wish I smoked weed right about now. Anyhoodles, off we hike, filtered sunlight warming the late morning. About 2 miles in, Mandy whoops and comes to a complete stop stutter stepping to avoid a squishy situation. A fire engine red creature with snappy claws is right there in the middle of the trail. Hmmmm. Looks like a crawfish. Acts like a crawfish, but we’re nowhere near the bayou. Unbeknownst to us, there’s a species here called the Red Burrowing Crayfish that constructs complex underground tunnels in bogs and springs. When heavy rain comes and floods their habitats, they often roam topside to find new sites or new mates. Next time I’ll bring a net and some Old Bay.
We head into Hendersonville, NC, to see historic Main Street. It’s OK, but despite being very busy, more than half the shops are closed on Sunday so we lose interest pretty quickly. I google “Elks” and yup, there’s one here in town. We pop into Lodge 1616 just in time to catch the end of the Eagles – Jaguars game in London. Nice lodge, nice people, disappointing game.
Back in Asheville, we lunch at Chestnut where we meet yet another transplant, this one a bartender from Litiz, PA, a little town in Lancaster County. We’re treated to a couple of fine burgers, thick and juicy and yet another superb local IPA.
Hotel status pays, and we’re offered a 4pm checkout from the Aloft. Extra nice considering we have a 10pm flight. Packed into our trusty Hyundai hybrid we have one last stop here in NC. Belmont is a town just 15 minutes from the Charlotte Douglass Airport and offers plenty of nice dinner options. We park and walk past a few, perusing the menus and spaces and settle on the Jekyll and Hyde Taphouse, a spacious steampunk joint fermenting their own brews right on site. The young waiter could not have been nicer or more helpful, and once again Carolina cuisine did not disappoint. General consensus is we waited far too long to come and need to be back here soon.