Since the town arranges itself on a ridge 4,000 feet
above sea level, the "high" in Highlands is entirely justified.
Yet it has taken more than altitude to uphold this North Carolina
town's reputation as a favorite summer refuge for more than a
century. It's the related gift of remoteness that's key.
Getting to Highlands requires intent. You don't pass through on the
way to somewhere else.
ON APPROACH
You go slowly. You pay attention to the road as it
narrows and winds upward. The air feels cooler. The light changes. And when
prudence allows, you take in the views: the pastures, the pines and
towering tulip poplars of the Nantahala National Forest, the dramatic
drop-off into the Cullasaja River Gorge. Lake Sequoyah was created in 1927
by damming the Cullasaja, and its tree-lined shores and vintage cottages
suggest the Adirondacks.
ITS HISTORY
Its remote location has protected Highlands since it
was founded in 1875 by a couple of Kansas developers who "took a map
in hand and drew a line from New York to New Orleans," writes local
historian Ran Shaffner in Heart of the Blue Ridge: Highlands, North
Carolina. "Then they passed another line between Chicago and
Savannah. These lines, they predicted, would be the great trade routes of
the future, and where they crossed would someday be a great population
center."
The idea of hauling goods up and down the highest
mountains in the eastern United States to get them from New York to New
Orleans never took off. But a landscape that hindered ordinary commerce in
the 19th century uniquely qualified Highlands for the business it's
been in ever since. By 1931, according to Shaffner's research,
Highlands' year-round population of 500 swelled to as many as 3,000
in the summer.
The historic Highlands Inn, where generations have
rocked afternoons away on the Main Street porch, was built in 1880 and is
one of several Highlands structures on the National Register of Historic
Places. The 19th-century Episcopal Chapel nearby and the old cottage
neighborhoods bear witness to the town's rich history.
Some locals and longtime seasonal visitors worry that
Highlands' increasing popularity will threaten the character of a
place with traditions tuned to the rhythms of summers in residence.
However, the town's core attractions, walking on footpaths bordered
by mountain laurel and lounging on a Main Street bench with an ice cream
cone, are like the drive up the mountain. They are too connected to the
place itself to be replaced by imported experiences.
