From the managing editor, June 2015

When I was 11, a family road trip brought me to North Carolina’s Sapphire Valley. One afternoon, while panning for gems at one of the area’s tourist mines, I spotted a crystalline rock about the size of a thumbnail. Sure enough, I had found a raw sapphire—just big enough to get the staffers buzzing and give me bragging rights, and just worthless enough to go in my dad’s pocket and, upon returning home, be stashed in a drawer of keepsakes and forgotten. 

Among my great trove of childhood vacation memories, my Sapphire Valley discovery shines little more than a tiny glint. Still, I grew up a traveler, my eye honed for discerning treasure beneath the surface. 

Years later, as an editor at a travel magazine in Washington, D.C., I spent days learning about the wonders of the world—from the Amazon to Zimbabwe, from Paris to the Pyrenees. But it was an article about the Smokies that really got under my skin. Long after the story went to press, I dreamed of the wildflowers and deep forests, the hikes to mountaintops and adventures in Asheville. A couple of years later, my husband and I followed that wanderlust on a road trip to Western North Carolina. 

Unlike the rough stone I spied as a kid, to my adult eyes, this place sparkled from the inside out. Later, when we decided to move here, few people questioned the decision. Our region’s reputation precedes itself. Friends and co-workers from all over talked enviously of the food and music scenes, its literary traditions and cultural depth, the art-deco architecture and Richie Rich mansion.

Now, living in Asheville means hosting guests who arrive with an agenda. My father-in-law surprised us with his persistence to tour Biltmore Estate, after a friend back in Iowa had gone on and on about its opulence. D.C. friends mentioned only one request: a sunset cocktail on the terrace of the Grove Park Inn (a missive from her Asheville-loving boss). My brother visits from Baltimore with brewery quotas to meet. 

Indeed, Southern Appalachia’s wealth of tourism appeal has become one of the region’s top assets. And talk about a diverse portfolio: We’ve got theme parks and historic attractions, unparalleled biodiversity and outdoor adventure, the country’s most popular national park and the birthplace of country music. 

In this issue, we trace the history of our popularity. Whether by making the mountains more accessible or more alluring, the 50 events in these pages brought people here and, ultimately, put Southern Appalachia on the tourism map.

Yet for all the stats on economic impact and annual visitation, tourism is an eminently personal story. As many paths bring people here as there are passages through the woods. A Dolly Parton fan makes the pilgrimage to Sevier County. A hiker achieves a dream of completing the Appalachian Trail. A family follows painted barns to “See Rock City.” 

A little girl finds a gem—and decades later, returns to bask in its radiance for good.