Camping with a Hardy Bunch of Orthodox Faithful in Hot Springs

There’s a place in North Carolina where the French Broad River has carved a narrow valley through the Blue Ridge Mountains shaping a beautiful and fertile location for farmers, hikers, health seekers and sight seers. This hamlet, located on the Appalachian Trail, just 30 minutes north of Asheville, is called Hot Springs. Just off downtown, is an enormous campground nestled on the valley floor between the rushing French Broad River and a century old railroad track. It is in this lovely spot that a large, rugged group of Orthodox faithful meet every year, the third week in October.

The tradition of this campout started in October of 2002, when several families from St. John of the Ladder OCA Church in Greenville, SC wanted to camp together to see the fall leaves. Over the past 17 years, the campout has grown from 80 campers to now over 200. Orthodox families from all over the Southeast attend the camp. Coming from St. Basil’s OCA Mission in Marietta, Georgia, we are latecomers here. We were invited to the camp by our friends at St. Timothy’s OCA Church in Toccoa back in 2015. Yet, it wasn’t until 2018 that we committed and booked a site. We’ve carried on the tradition by inviting a few friends from churches down in Atlanta and the expansion continues.

People come to the Hot Springs campout to enjoy the beauty, catch up with friends, attend the outdoor services and explore nature. Those who camp on-site are die-hards! They come with all manner of camping paraphernalia and hacks. Folks come with tents, pop-up campers, RV’s, hammocks, yurts and conversion vans. Groups of teens set up Eno forests. A man from South Carolina brings home-roasted coffee and sets up a hot beverage station. Babies toddle around in nature, grabbing rocks and bugs. Young kids ride bikes and play on the edges of the river. Older kids roam, toss footballs and play games. Families fish. Groups of all ages hike the magnificent trails in the surrounding areas. On Saturday, grills are smoking and people are gathering everywhere around campfires, talking about local parish and family life. It is a jovial affair.

I like to wander about and see each family’s campsite, what sleeping arrangements they’ve brought, what equipment they have, what camp-life hacks they use, etc.

I can tell you that this is a hardy bunch. A group of teens went with a few adults out on a chilly, moon-lit night hike up to Max Patch. They got home around 12:30 am. Dads can be seen pulling wagons with bright eyed toddlers. Friday night my nose brought me to some creative fasting grill food at more than one campsite.

What’s more is this location is over-the-top beautiful. The river is wide here and creates a constant, gentle roar all through the camp that lulls even the weariest of campers to sleep. On the other side of the river, across from the camp, a mountain rises straight up to Lover’s Leap, a rock outcropping well over 2300 feet above sea level. The river with the mountain backdrop creates a scene that takes your breath away.

Four Orthodox services punctuate the weekend: Friday Vespers, Saturday morning Akathist of Thanksgiving, Saturday Evening Vespers, and Sunday morning Divine Liturgy. All are held outdoors, rain or shine, just above the riverbank overlooking stream and mountain. Father Marcus Burch brings an icon of Christ which is mounted to a tree with a censor right at the river’s edge. Two icon stands provide a dividing line between the outdoor nave and altar. The altar is extremely simple with a gold cover and hurricane shades to hold the candle flames.

This year, Father Thomas Moore spoke to our crowd just after vespers on Friday evening. “I hear it could rain tomorrow, but you really never know,” he said.

Basically, rain was forecasted for much of Saturday, but that didn’t seem to deter this group. Though it drizzled all day, it started to pour around 5 pm. It was then that I saw lean – to’s, tents inside of tents, folks hanging in cars and trucks. Teens were huddled up on the grandstand. Campfires raged on in the rain. People played games at their picnic tables under their tailgate tents. We were invited to an RV party, standing room only.

By 10 pm, one of our tents swamped and we had to merge all six of us into a four-man tent. It was tight, but dry. Sopping socks gave a slightly unpleasant odor to the tent as we all managed to snug in and fall asleep.

This was a hardy bunch!

Sunday morning was a soaking mess. No dry clothes made it through that night. But, all the campers eventually emerged from their temporary sleeping spaces and pulled on their boots and jackets. Everyone splashed their way to the 8:30 am Divine Liturgy. The rain ceased just in time and it was a beautiful service. The music was radiant. Children came in their parent’s arms. Tethered dogs came with their owners. Teens came with their beanies. Prepared adults came with rain jackets and hand warmers. To project his voice to the masses under the tarp, Father Jacob Kulp gave his homily with the help of a large megaphone. The Eucharist was served to many thankful souls.

After a couple of cups of hot coffee in town, it was time to break down our water-logged tent and gear. We just packed it all up wet and shoved it into the back of the Suburban, stink and all.

As we drove toward Asheville, glancing back at the soggy sublime scene, I asked my 17-year-old if he enjoyed the experience.

“I had a fantastic time,” he said.

My younger boy agreed.

Collectively, the whole truck agreed, “Let’s do it again.”

There’s something intoxicating about these mountains and the river and the outdoor services and the people. We’ll definitely be doing it again and we have a whole year to prepare for whatever crazy weather will be coming our way.