When my buddy Jeff got a singing gig at a mountain resort north of Asheville, he asked me to tag along. While I’ve been to North Carolina before, I’ve never been to Asheville.

Seemed like a no-brainer — especially since Asheville was damn near wiped off the proverbial map nine months ago when Hurricane Helene stalled above the bustling mountain town. The ensuing monsoon-esque weather spawned catastrophic flooding and heretofore unseen tornadoes.

The town is in full rebuild, rebrand, and refresh-mode, including a fancy-schmancy new wing to their regional airport. It opened a mere week ago and still has that unmistakable new car smell.

Here’s what I noticed during my time in the city. For one, it’s harmonious in a weird way.

Stores like to combine themes. Remember KenTacoHut, the short-lived amalgamation of KFC, Taco Bell, and Pizza Hut? Yeah, like that — same idea. Driving around I think I spied a vintage store-tattoo parlor-flower shop. And a donut-pickleball-craft beer emporium. If there’s a larger, mod hotel, it’s also home to smashburger-coffeehouse. (I ordered an Appala-chai with glee.)  I’d say Asheville is crafty and ingenious in their mixing and matching of business offerings.

It’s home to the nation’s pinball museum, which would explain the smattering of arcades sprinkled around. I played more pinball games this past weekend than I’ve played in the past decade. Hemp-infused and THC-forward libations were prevalent at most bars, including a place called The Odd. It’s where drag queens, death metal bands, magicians and comedians call home. Odd must be for the mix of entertainment. Whatever the case, it works.

The aftermath of the hurricane is still the main topic of conversation for locals. At the airport today, I overheard a woman who owned a car wash talk about reopening. A building next to her just got their power turned on three weeks ago. They were still cleaning mud out of the rafters and attic, a full 36-feet off the ground, she told her friends.

North Carolina is known for their barbecue. Uh, so is Kansas City. I’m going to leave it at that.

Jeff was performing in Banner Elk, an upscale mountain village about an hour away. When the storms descended, the town was practically cut off from outside help for weeks. Connecting roads in and out were washed out or wiped away completely. The harrowing stories of neighbor-helping-neighbor will become the stuff of lore in a few decades. Some volunteer firefighters and paramedics worked for two months without a day off. This much I can attest — every homeowner on that mountain now owns a chainsaw.

Asheville is a charming little ‘burb — complete with that prevalent Carolina accent made so popular with Parker Posey’s White Lotus character. Yes, it’s that strong … and distinctive … and undisputable.

And while there’s ample hiking available in the serene mountains, I didn’t pack sensible shoes (on purpose.)

Would I go back? Absolutely. Would I demand my bestie travel buddy Jeff join in the fun. Mostest absolute-liest.