Solitude is gratitude: Happily disappearing to Snowbird Mountain Lodge
The Snowbird Mountain Lodge is located in Graham County.
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There’s a certain feeling you get when you cross over the Graham County line. For most “outsiders,” whether it be nearby East Tennessee or origin points from any incoming direction, it’s a sense of genuine curiosity and wonder, where you don’t know what to expect around the next curve. And that’s half the fun, you dig?
The same can be said for folks who even live in greater Western North Carolina. If you call Swain, Macon, Jackson or Haywood counties home, Graham can seem like the edge of the earth if you keep driving far enough west. And yet, that’s the true beauty to what lies in these parts — pure solitude.
It’s the remote nature found in this far-off corner of WNC that holds such a specific hold on one’s heart and soul, either consciously or subconsciously. The awe-inspiring tranquility and happenstance camaraderie found here is rare and hard to grasp, especially in a 21st century world of digital technology, white noise and nonstop distraction. And I will always seek it out.
To be blunt, it can be an adjustment (a much-needed shift) to sit with yourself and just be “you” when face-to-face with such ancient beauty in these mountains, this spiritual realm where time doesn’t really exist. But you do, and so does the moment that’s unfolding in real time while you’re here, and present for whatever adventure may appear. So, why not engage and see where the day takes you, eh?
For someone like me, who has wandered (and driven) seemingly every corner of Southern Appalachia, when I was approached to do a story about the Snowbird Mountain Lodge (just outside of Robbinsville), I didn’t know what to expect. What folks will I cross paths with? What will I stumble across in the process? Where to from this starting point?
Cruising along N.C. 143, the last of the summer sunshine pierced through the tree canopy hovering over the s-curve mountain road. Pulling up to the Snowbird, I was immediately greeted with stunning panoramic views of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Wandering over to the side porch of the picturesque lodge (built in 1941), I marveled at the seemingly endless mountains, the ridges undulating like waves on the open ocean.
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And where the steak, crab cake, pork chop or trout (coupled with a fine Oregon pinot noir or California chardonnay) at dinner in the lodge justifies your intent as an adult who enjoys the finer things in life, it’s the sounds of crickets outside your window in the midnight hour that reminds you just what it means to never lose the childlike wonder of exploration and discovery, especially in the presence of Mother Nature.
Which is why places like the Snowbird remain sacred, and should be cradled as so by the general public and the curious alike. Simply put, you can’t recreate what this place is just overnight. It takes decades of humanity inhabiting it, all atop countless you-had-to-be-there moments made in sheer joy that form such a unique, cherished property. It’s the smell of wormy chestnut in the perfectly aged décor of the lodge or wandering down to nearby Lake Santeetlah to canoe or go for a swim.
“There are no televisions here,” the front desk host stated with a proud grin upon my arrival. “I tell people who come here, ‘Channel One is the mountains. Channel Two is the butterfly bush. Channel Three is the lake. Channel Four is the fireplace.’”
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To that point, it’s also the absolute “silence” of the property that haunts me, happily. Truth be told, I can’t remember the last time I found myself in such a peaceful slumber as I did in Room No. 17. No construction noises like I hear every morning near my apartment along Russ Avenue in downtown Waynesville. No garbage trucks. No mail trucks. No incessant noise of a whirlwind modern society constantly in motion.
That tranquility at Snowbird is shockingly refreshing. But more so, it made me realize just how much I actually missed normalcy of sleep, and of self. That, and the notion of just standing still and listening to nothing, merely absorbing the beauty of quiet. It conjured a recent post on social media I came across from a friend, which stated: “We didn’t know how quiet the world used to be — until the noise never stopped.”
Honestly? I felt like a kid again here, just like I used to at summer camp in Vermont or spending time at my grandparents’ cabin on Lake Champlain in the shadow of the Adirondack Mountains. Those slumbers remain tucked away for safekeeping in my memory. And I thought that kind of sincere melting into the bedsheets after a long, bountiful day would remain elusive nowadays — the sounds of cicadas and a lone owl lulling you to sleep. But there I was at Snowbird.
And then there’s the “pick your own adventure” book that is Graham County. By late morning, it’s hiking underneath the massive tulip poplar trees hiding mightily in the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest. Or the slight chill of an impending fall overtaking Huckleberry Bald, where I trotted up the old logging road and disappeared into the woods, finally alone and at peace with whatever it is ricocheting in my restless mind.
It’s meandering along the snug two-lane Cherohala Skyway and finding an empty picnic table at a scenic overlook, soon unpacking the scrumptious lunch packed for me by the Snowbird. Eat the hearty sandwich with gusto and gratitude, wash it down with the small bottle of wine the staff placed in my backpack for safekeeping.
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By late afternoon, I had returned to the Snowbird for another dinner in the glow of the fireplace in the cozy bar or adjacent dining room. Following the four-course meal, I ended the evening at the Summer House, the screened-in open air lounge with a gas fireplace. The flames illuminate the space. I cracked open one of my all-time favorite books, a dog-eared copy of Jack Kerouac’s seminal 1958 novel, “The Dharma Bums.”
Reading the pages in my own time, and at my own pace — the unfolding scene of a waning moon over the darkened mountain silhouettes seen in the distance — the words I came across perfectly summed up my experience here, and thereafter: “The closer you get to real matter, rock air fire and wood, boy, the more spiritual the world is.”
Want to go?
A legendary spot for rest and relaxation, the Snowbird Mountain Lodge is located just outside of Robbinsville.
An all-inclusive mountain retreat, guests are served a full breakfast and a four-course dinner onsite, with a picnic-style lunch also provided.
Beyond numerous amenities around the property (Fireside Bar, tennis court, yoga, etc.), Snowbird offers complimentary guest access to Lake Santeetlah, with canoes, kayaks and paddleboards available for use.
To note, dinner service is open to the public via reservation. There’s also an array of specialized events, including the “American Classics Wine Dinner” (Oct. 4), “Thanksgiving Dinner” (Nov. 27) and “Bourbon Dinner” (Dec. 6).
For more information and/or to make a reservation, visit snowbirdlodge.com or call 828.479.3433.
