‘It’s devastating’: Asheville braces for a peak season without visitors

But the Bent Creek Lodge, on a mountainside by the Blue Ridge Parkway, wasn’t as safe as Claybrook thought. The Asheville property was caught in Hurricane Helene’s long path of destruction. The second-deadliest hurricane to make landfall on the U.S. mainland in the past 50 years cost many people their lives and livelihoods. It also sabotaged the most profitable period for many Asheville small-business owners like Claybrook, who often need October to sustain them during quieter months.

“It’s not unusual for hotels, bed-and-breakfasts and Airbnbs to be fully booked every day in October,” Claybrook said. “Fall is our highest-revenue season, so it’s devastating.”

Though Asheville is considered an all-year destination, visitors flock to the mountainous area in the fall to immerse themselves in autumnal colors that cascade from the highest elevations to the valley floor. Buncombe County, which encompasses Asheville, reaps billions of dollars from visitors. Last year, according to a report from local tourism officials, nearly 14 million visitors spent a record $2.97 billion in total.

Claybrook refers to October as Asheville’s Black Friday, a spending spree that stretches for 31 days. The month is now slated for recovery and restoration.

Explore Asheville reported that many of the county’s 90 hotels have reopened and are housing first responders and emergency workers. Restaurants and shops that suffered structural damage from flooding, such as storefronts in the River Arts District and Biltmore Village areas, will need more time.

Fighting with insurance adjusters

Chef Katie Button, co-owner of the Cúrate tapas bar and La Bodega by Cúrate, said the timing of the storm — right before prime leaf-peeping and the busy holiday season — has thrown many restaurants into financial peril. “The fourth quarter, October in particular, makes our entire year,” she said.

A normal October weekend is like “our Super Bowl,” Button said. Now, her restaurants are being used by World Central Kitchen to make meals for relief workers and for the community using trucked-in water. The disaster relief organization has set up operations with other restaurants, including Bear’s Smokehouse, the James Beard-winning Chai Pani and its fast-casual sibling, Botiwalla.

Like many in the area who lacked flood insurance, Button is fighting her insurance company. “They’re trying to pin all of the damage on flooding instead of the fact that a hurricane and wind caused the flood,” she said.

A potential lifeline — a Small Business Administration loan — isn’t an option for many restaurant owners, who already borrowed to get through pandemic closures. “So many of us took on giant loans in the pandemic four years ago,” she said. “I do not feel comfortable adding more debt onto our books right now.”

Gutted galleries

The Biltmore estate has not been able to provide a reopening date; its website says guests who had planned a daytime visit through Nov. 1 can use their ticket another day or request a refund. Overnight guests with plans to stay through that date should look for emails with reservation options.

“As with all of our neighbors who experienced the effects of Helene, we are working on our plans for a swift recovery and look forward to welcoming our guests to this region as soon as it is safe to do so,” the property said.

For the more than 300 artists in the River Arts District, October and the holiday months typically provide the financial boost to get through the rest of the winter as visitors pour into the region, explore the galleries and studios, and shop for gifts.

“Everybody is happy as can be in October” in a typical year, said Jeffrey Burroughs, president of the River Arts District Artists organization. “And everyone looks forward to it.”

A jewelry designer, Burroughs was preparing to launch a show this month called “Shades of Fall” that invoked the colors of the season in the city and along the Blue Ridge Parkway. Now, he’s spending every day in the remains of the mile-long district, where he estimated that 80 percent is “basically rubble.”

“A lot of artists right now, because they’re so busy digging themselves out of the mud, haven’t even yet had a moment to focus on what lies ahead, which is revenue streams,” he said. “It’s hard to even talk about that, honestly.”

The organization is raising money for emergency stipends for affected artists. Building owners, artist tenants and volunteers are stripping flooded buildings to their studs. Many are vowing to rebuild, Burroughs said, but the road ahead will be long and costly.

“While this is a complete devastation, we’re artists,” he said. “We are the people that literally take pieces and fragments of something and create beautiful works of art.”

Nowhere to hike

North Carolina’s western region is prone to wet weather, but the torrents of rain that preceded Hurricane Helene alarmed Lindsey Barr, owner of the Blue Ridge Hiking Company. One of her guides was leading a backpacking trip on the Appalachian Trail in the Great Smoky Mountains. On Sept. 25, she made the call: Evacuate the group.

For the near term, her guides and guests have postponed all recreational hikes in the area.

Barr, 37, was anticipating a month of nonstop outdoor adventure in the surrounding mountains and forests. She had already booked more than 40 day hikes, plus a dozen multiday backpacking trips.

These excursions, bathed in fall colors, generate more than 20 percent of her annual revenue. It’s one of the most spectacular times to be in the “Land of the Sky,” but no tourists may be around to see it.

On Sept. 27, Barr lost water, power, cellphone service and internet at her home. She started canceling trips for the upcoming weekend, despite a sunny forecast. She found a small pocket of service near town and texted the unfortunate news to her guests.

“If there’s no public lands to go to, we can’t hike,” she said. “So we’re canceling a week at a time and assessing.”

Most of the trekking sites on her itineraries — Pisgah National Forest, Blue Ridge Parkway and DuPont State Recreational Forest — have remained fully or partially closed.

To handle cancellations, Barr is encouraging guests to accept a credit toward a future hike or to rebook for next year. For people who want their money back, she is asking them to consider donating a portion of their refund to help support her 20 guides. Combined with an online fundraiser, she has collected about $8,000.

When it’s safe, she said, her staff is itching to pitch in with clearing debris and rebuilding trails, a skill set that comes with the job.

“We understand the land,” Barr said.

Making do in the forest

Despite their losses, some of Asheville’s innkeepers, chefs, beer makers and artists are finding optimism in the rapid response to the catastrophe.

The Bent Creek Lodge was still able to host a wedding planned for Sept. 28 in its idyllic setting above the French Broad River — but only after Claybrook organized scouting expeditions for gasoline and chain saws to fuel the generator and clear about 50 downed trees, as well as a cleanup brigade to help the neighbors.

“On Saturday, about six of us moved logs, cleared limbs and debris, and did whatever we could,” he said. “They were here for the wedding but were gung-ho to help.”

The couple, Kelley Doyle, 28, and Will Compton, 27, had booked the entire Bent Creek Lodge, plus an adjacent cabin. The Nashville couple had invited about two dozen guests. Only a handful, including the officiant, had arrived before the river started to rise and the trees, including a pine holding the internet antenna, began to topple over. The groom’s parents, the Asheville musician and the wedding cake did not make it in time.

“I was toggling with the gravity of what had happened,” said Doyle, a minister, “but we decided to do what we came here to do.”

The pair altered the ceremony to suit the circumstances. Doyle wore a muumuu that complemented Compton’s shirt. For the reception, they drank champagne and ate leftover sandwiches from Publix and cookies salvaged from the freezer. They played music on a battery-operated Bluetooth speaker.

“We had an outdoor wedding in the garden among the fallen trees,” Claybrook said. “The minister talked about how this marriage would be a seed planted by the hurricane that would just grow and grow. It kind of made us cry.”

Cold beer and free music

At Diatribe Brewing Co., in West Asheville, owners Betty Dunajski and Dave Byer have set up a charging station, a microwave and a kettle for anyone to use. The brewery has become a place where people can drop off donations — coolers, Tupperware, warm clothes — as well as find a little slice of normalcy in a city turned upside-down.

Diatribe has legally been able to stay open because it serves only prepackaged food. Because the power has been restored, the beer is cold. But they’re running out of cans, and canning takes a lot of water, so it isn’t likely that they’ll be able to fill more, Dunajski said.

Hopes were high for the brewery’s first October in business, “and then this hits, and wow,” she said.

People have been bringing their own cups to fill with tapped beer. And Diatribe is able to offer a public restroom, which can flush thanks to the water harvested from two large-scale dehumidifiers.

A couple of regular customers are musicians, and they’ve been playing every day for the people who come by to unwind after days spent volunteering. While the beer flows and the guitars strum, patrons share stories about the whereabouts of missing neighbors and find out who needs more hands or supplies.

“It’s been therapeutic for people to have somewhere they can come to just relax a little,” Dunajski said.

Evan Rosenberg, who has been giving brewery tours since 2016, has also been taking solace in the feeling of community. Typically, the founder of Beer City Brewery Tours would be spending October ferrying around bachelor and bachelorette parties, corporate retreaters, and families of tourists.

Instead of working, he has been volunteering nonstop. Last week, he worked on an assembly line at a warehouse out in the hard-hit area of Swannanoa, stuffing relief boxes full of bottled water and other supplies.

As soon as he could contact clients, he began canceling reservations and refunding them. Tours, he said, will resume once breweries start to open again, which won’t happen until water is restored.

“This is not going to be an open-and-close thing. It’s going to be weeks, if not months, of waiting and rebuilding,” Rosenberg said. “I think people have just got to be patient.”

On Monday, he was digging spare lumber out from underneath his house to help build a station in his West Asheville neighborhood where residents can access water. Several of the breweries where he takes tours have morphed into community hubs where emergency supplies are being distributed.

“It’s been amazing. Whether it’s the breweries or not, people can pull up their car and fill up on potable water or grab diapers,” Rosenberg said. “The neighbors, the people that have been pouring their heart into this community, have been incredible.”

Rosenberg counts himself luckier than many. His wife’s job as an accountant wasn’t affected, and they have electricity. He has been able to use a rain barrel from his garden to collect water for toilet flushing. And he and his wife can drive their electric car an hour each way to shower and clean up at his in-laws’.

“A lot of people really love Asheville no matter what and want to support it,” he said. “I’m seeing that from all over the world right now with all the support that we’re getting, financially and emotionally. I think we’re going to bounce back.”