Think being a tourist won’t do anything to help Helene-ravaged Asheville? Think again | Opinion

Tourism is a fraught thing in the best of times. Your getaway is someone else’s home. Your carefree weekend is someone else’s daily grind.

That’s especially true in Helene-hit Asheville right now, where reality seems to splinter at the high-water line. Large pockets of the Land of Sky feel perfectly normal, serene in the winter-season quiet, while the areas ravaged last fall remain apocalyptic. Recovery crews are fishing crumpled semi trucks out the war zone of the Swannanoa River, while a mile up the road, Mother Bakery & Cafe has a line out the door for some of the best quiche and sourdough bread you’ve ever tasted. Excavators are chewing up the remains of smashed galleries down by the French Broad River within sight of unscathed studios just up the hill, where artists are showing gorgeous new work and hoping the crowds return.

This split-screen existence will be Asheville’s reality for quite a while, and it asks a delicate balance of visitors. Come, spend, enjoy the place — but remember that just about everyone you meet is somewhere in the stages of grief.

“Everyone has a story,” said Dee Eggers, a professor at UNC Asheville who teaches environmental science. “Even if your house made it through, even if your neighborhood had drinking water, your whole community was affected.”

I saw Dr. Eggers at the reopening celebration for the UNCA campus, which was largely closed for the last three months while the city worked to restore basic services. It took heroic efforts to get the university back in a condition to welcome students, just as it has taken enormous work to get Asheville ready to welcome visitors from across the country.

The region needs those tourists and their dollars to help drive recovery and make up for a Helene-flattened fall season. The Paris of the South welcomed some 12 million visitors in 2021 — about 46 tourists per resident, according to Blue Ridge Public Radio. For better or worse, Asheville has become a place defined by its hospitality and funky take on mountain life. The New York Times included Asheville on its list of 52 must-visit places for 2025, right between the Dolomites in Italy and the Magdalena River in Colombia.

Reopening has been a delicate balance. When the local tourism bureau put out a call for patient-minded visitors to return last October, it sparked an outcry from locals still waiting on running water and debris clearance. There’s been great progress since, but it’s still important to come in a spirit of grace and solidarity.

Or better yet, come prepared to pitch in. My neighbor Caela O’Connell, who studies climate resilience at UNC Chapel Hill, says the most important volunteer opportunities are often in the slow-grinding aftermath of disaster, when the news coverage has moved on but the needs are still vast. All over the mountains, there are trails that need clearing, rivers and streams that need cleaning, homes and businesses that need mucking. Hands on Asheville keeps a running list of volunteer opportunities at handsonasheville.org.

For all the loss and hardship, it was easy to be reminded this week of how Asheville became such a magnetic draw in the first place. I was about to call it a night, walking back toward my hotel in the frigid mountain air, when I saw a wood-burning oven crackling inside a downtown restaurant. As I came in the door, I realized they were about to close and I turned to leave. The staff wouldn’t hear of it. “I’m happy to have any reason to keep working a bit longer,” said the tattooed chef behind the bar. “It’s the slow season, and even slower than usual.” I listened to locals swapping stories over wine while I ate one of the best meals I’ve had in ages — charred brussels sprouts, seared trout and a bowl of peach sorbet. “Worth coming out in the cold?” the chef asked.

Absolutely. So go ahead and take that mountain escape. Remember to tip well. And consider packing some work gloves.