The Land of the Noonday Sun

You're entering the Nantahala now, and there's a poem folded into that name. The Cherokee called this country Nantahala — 'land of the noonday sun' — because the gorge the river carved is so deep and so narrow that in places the sunlight only reaches the bottom in the middle of the day. Morning and evening, the gorge floor lies in shadow while the ridgetops blaze. A whole valley that only sees the sun at noon.

Down in that gorge runs the Nantahala River, and it's one of the great whitewater rivers in America — eight miles of cold, rushing rapids that climax at a Class Three drop called Nantahala Falls. And here's a quirk: the water runs cold and steady all summer, because it comes out the bottom of a mountain lake through a pipe, released for power — so it's icy even in August. Back in nineteen seventy-two some paddlers set up shop down there at an old motel and started the Nantahala Outdoor Center, which grew into one of the biggest paddling schools on earth. In twenty thirteen the freestyle kayak world championships were held right here, paddlers from thirty nations.

So this stretch is where the road meets the river country. If you've got a day sometime, come raft it. For now, wind through it, and mind the road — the gorge is as tight as the sun is stingy.