Boone and Banner Elk are two WNC spots that, up until this past month—well, in the case of Banner Elk; I’ve still got to get to Boone—I’ve really wanted to visit, but just haven’t yet…not for any other reason other than that I’ve started amassing favorite day trips that I continually revisit and the fact that at two hours away, Boone is less of a day, then a weekend trip.
Banner Elk, however—home to the Sugar Mountain and Beech Mountain ski resorts—is only an hour twenty minute drive away, which is exactly where I headed a couple of weeks ago when I felt myself on the verge of truly, perhaps a mental break, and needing to just unplug and relax for a couple of hours.
I talked earlier this month about how this summer hasn’t gone exactly as planned. June ended with me only having the use of one leg (albeit temporarily) and having no job. I’ve been between jobs before, but in the past, it’s either been a planned thing or something that I’d been bracing for—I got let go from a position just a year after landing in Asheville (the job that is the reason I’m even in Asheville in the first place), but that one ended after three months of a truly toxic work experience; I’d been crafting an exit plan, and in fact, had applied to the next job I landed (the one I just lost) two weeks before my prior ended.
This time, however, I was caught completely by surprise, and I’ll be honest, it’s been fucking with me. My last spat of unemployment was not only a month and some change but filled with job interviews (and, not to brag… several offers). June was a month of nothing, just email rejections, often hours (or minutes) after sending applications, and the silence from my inbox made me work at a breakneck pace, telling myself I needed to be applying to 20-30 jobs a day, that I should post on LinkedIn 2-4 times a week, and that all my time needed to spent on the pursuit of employment.
We all know that’s not sustainable, and coupled with the fact that I was pretty much stranded in my apartment, I woke up the last Saturday in June and tried to apply to some things, but felt…well, crazy. I couldn’t concentrate, felt restless, and that I just needed to get away, so I googled some swimming holes that didn’t involve a hike (I was walking at this point, but with a heavy limp and hadn’t done anything longer than from my car to restaurants or bars and still hadn’t gone to the gym sans crutches). Wildcat Lake was a top contender. It was an hour and 20 minute drive away, and at a higher elevation, I assumed (rightly) that I wouldn’t be privy to the excessive heat Asheville had been getting. I got in my car and drove.
Wildcat Lake is small. It’s much smaller than the pictures suggested. And the beach/sunning area is just feet from the road. But…it’s picturesque, cool, and at least the day that I spent there, not half as crowded as anywhere in the general Asheville vicinity (I tried to go to Triple Falls the other day and legit just turned around after seeing the parking lot, even after driving 45 minutes). I arrived around 2:30 to what I’ll term a relatively lively beach. By 5:30, when I left, it was just me and two other families soaking up the sun. I brought two books but just ended up listening to music—a Zach Bryan, Bruce Springsteen, and Chappell Roan album for those interested—while courting the skin cancer gods.
I loved Wild Cat Lake so much that I planned on returning two weeks later on a Sunday—there were a couple of bars/eateries/stores on the commute there I also wanted to check out, albeit when not alone—but the day was rained out, so returning is still on the Summer 2024 Bingo Card.
AshevilleExplorer 