By Matthew B. Mayes
I grew up in Brevard, NC, on a place called Deerwoode, which was a summer camp, built in 1923. My dad, Bill Mayes, is the fourth owner and bought the property in 1966. He ran the boys camp ‘til 1991, when he closed it. It is a magical and spiritual place with over a mile of French Broad River frontage, and incredible long-range, southwesterly views. The property’s highest point backs up to the 2800 ft summit of Sugarloaf Mountain, which sits like a giant candy kiss in the middle of the French Broad River Valley. This 175 acre property, with its unique mix of mountainside terrain and bottom flood plain land, is a wildlife wonderland, and an outdoorsman’s paradise. There’s just enough acreage and natural habitat for a wide array of wildlife. Black Bears, Red and Gray Fox, Bobcats, and just about every other kind of critter down the chain. There are all kinds of birds, even spectacular birds of prey that hunt and flourish in the lower portions of the flood plain. And, because the river runs right through it, and floods frequently, it fills all the properties lower lakes, ponds and canal ditches with fish after every flood. When the floodwaters subside, the fishing can be fantastic.
Deerwoode was an incredible place to grow up, especially for a kid who loved nature, bird hunting and fishing, or anything to do with the outdoors. My family is all from Texas and Oklahoma, and we have Comanche, Cherokee, and Choctaw ancestry. My dad moved us from Texas to Brevard, NC when I was 3 years old. I’m convinced he took that 3000% pay cut and left General Motors in Dallas Texas to move the family to WNC because he is maverick at heart, a conservationist, an environmentalist, and an industrial art wizard. My father saw a better life in this run down summer camp called Deerwoode, and as he told my mother back in Texas before we came up; “It needs some work but the boys are going to love it.” He was dead right about that.
My Native American heritage, I feel, is partially responsible for my deep connection to nature. There is something in nature that brings peace, calm, and awareness. Even Einstein said, “If you want to understand the order of things look deep into nature. “ My father has been a fantastic steward of his land. He was building methane digesters and solar panels in 1970, preventing erosion, building holding ponds and preventing the TVA from damming the French Broad River. He talks the talk and walks the walk. The entire Deerwoode property is now in the Carolina Mountain Land Conservancy.
I said Deerwoode is a spiritual place. When I was a young boy I would often venture off by myself into the woods. My favorite place was a section of old growth forest that had hundreds of 200 plus year old majestic white pines. It was like a cathedral in there. I used to love to just go there, sit quietly, be still, and listen. I suppose it was some sort of mediation I would engage in and the place I think of when I seek calm.
My grandfather, on my mother’s side, was an avid fisherman. He was from Commerce, Texas and loved to bass fish, mainly. Actually, he loved everything about fishing; the planning, the travel, the prep, the location, the spots, the tackle and all the gear. I loved fishing with him and it did not matter if we did not catch a thing. It truly was a process, and I learned everything about fishing from him. My dad had also built several brook type ponds on the property and we stocked them with Rainbow Trout for the summer camp kids to catch. It was kind of my job to tend to fish. Some of those fish we had for years and I had many around 5-6 lbs. One of these ponds was near the front gate entrance of our property. I had about 40-50 good size Rainbow Trout in that brook. It was spring fed, cold water, and it provided just enough oxygen for me to have a good number of trout in there. I would feed them every evening. I started to notice that more and more of them seem to be missing. One morning I came down and saw a Panther Martin spinner hanging from one of the big one’s mouth. I knew then the local boys from town had found my honey hole and they were sneaking in at night and catching them. They pretty much cleaned me out. By the time I had about a dozen left, I tried to move them to the other pond further in the property, where no one could get too easily. A handful of those fish died when I moved them. I assume the fluctuation in the water temperature was too much of a shock to their system. I netted all the floaters and cleaned them and put them in the camp freezer. We had a lot of Trout to eat for a while.
So, back to the French Broad River. When I was a kid growing up in Brevard in the early 70s, there was still an awful lot of industry dumping waste into the River. Some of the plants up in Rosman, closer to the headwaters, were dumping all kinds of dangerous chemicals and waste into the river. By canoe, our property was, and still is, about 16 miles from the headwaters. Sometimes at about 2 or 3 in the morning, if I happened to wake up, I would notice the awful chemical smell outside. Our house sat about 75 yards from the river and whatever it was they were dumping in the river upstream, well, you could smell it at night. I used to fish in the French Broad River all the time when I was a kid. In the early days, I mostly caught Carp, suckers we called them, and Horny Heads. Every now and then we might get a mud puppy. The only time I caught any trout is when we were lucky enough to be fishing on the same day The Forest Service was stocking the river right at the entrance of our property. They would put thousands of 8-10 inch Rainbows in the river at that location at the end of Deerwoode Lane. Of course, me and a few of my school buddies were always on the look out for that truck and we would stake out our best bank fishing hideouts on our property just down the old dirt river road from where they were putting them in the river. Man we would catch them as fast as you could put sweet corn on a trout hook. The frenzy would last a few days and then it was over. Back to suckers, horny heads and Hellbenders. Just want to add here that we did not do much fly fishing on the river, as it was too deep to wade and the banks were so overgrown in privet and trees that there was really no way to work a fly rod, So spinner and gig fishing it was. We would use anything we could find or that would work. We just wanted to catch fish.
Somewhere in the late 70s the EPA started cracking down on the area industries polluting the French Broad. The EPA regulation, combined with the fall of the textile industry and the outsourcing of much of that sector, really helped clean up the French Broad. There were still plenty of farming, pesticide, erosion, and household trash issues to deal with but it was a drastic improvement. So much industry in the area vanished. American Thread, DuPont, The Dye Plant, and Olin Corporation. They were all gone in a matter of years. It crippled the town financially at the time and lots of folks had to move elsewhere for employment. The environmental impact some of those plants had was devastating to the rivers. Olin Corp used to dump all the sludge byproduct from the making of cellophane and cigarette paper directly into the Davidson River, which then flowed into the French Broad. They did not even try to hide it. They just dumped it in the river. Thank goodness our property was miles above where they were doing that but it was still an environmental nightmare. But the French Broad has survived, and even flourished in recent years. I have to add that without the boom and draw of the retirement community starting in the 80’s, I’m not sure Brevard would have survived economically. In Transylvania County, about 66% of the land is in state and national forest and about 22% in the French Broad River flood plain, which you cannot build in commercially or residentially. If it wasn’t for the retirees, the seasonal summer camps, and the lure of Pisgah National Forest to tourists, that little mill town might have had a hard time surviving.
Over the years, the water quality has drastically improved in the French Broad. Without quoting statistics and numbers, I can simply attest to the wildlife I see there now, as well as the fishing. I started to notice River Otters, which are extremely sensitive to toxicity in water, Bald Eagles, and many different species of ducks returning to the river valley. The fishing is better too; it’s not uncommon to catch a good size Brown Trout, Small Mouth Bass, and even Muskie, along with Rainbows, Black Bass, Crappie, Blue Gill and Perch. There is also quite a good amount of Chain Pickerel in the river too, which occasionally will confuse folks as they think they caught a Muskie. There are some areas on the river where there is ample open bank space and you can catch those Brown Trout and other fish on a fly rod. Down on the stretch of river where I grew up, much of the water is deeper, with slow swirling, back currents in the deeper turns. Those holes are great fishing spots. The water is cold and clears fairly quickly after rains, depending on how much we get. Just a footnote on the Otters here, yes they are tough on fish populations, especially in our ponds and lakes along the river. But, they are part of the natural balance of the ecosystem. That said, I believe the forest service now only stocks trout fingerlings in the FBR as they have a much better chance of learning how to survive in the wild without just being a free, easy meal for the predators.
There is some decent fishing on the French Broad, most folks don’t know about it, and most fly anglers stick to the stocked private property stretches on the East and West Forks. Most of the property bordering the French Broad from Rosman to Asheville is private. But, there are plenty of landings and places to put in and get out on a good days fishing. The first mile of the river, starting at Headwaters Outfitters, is pretty shallow and very rocky. It can be slow going in a canoe depending on the rain but the best Rainbow fishing is in that first mile or two stretch. Past that, the river gets a little deeper and it moves at about a 5-6 mph current. It has plenty of deep corner pockets as the river slowly meanders its way through the upper valley. The French Broad is one of the oldest rivers in the world, and the only one in the US that flows north for a bit before turning west and flowing into the Tennessee River.
I love the mountains and the waters of WNC. I have traveled all over this country with my rock band Jupiter Coyote, playing shows, and seeing the country. WNC is still one of my favorite places. Those blue sleepy mountains and the waters that flow from them bring peace and balance to my life, and restore a renewed commitment to seek joy in the present moment; for it is all we truly have.
Matthew B. Mayes is the founder, principal songwriter, lead singer and guitar and guijo player for Jupiter Coyote. He’s played thousands of shows, toured everywhere and sold a truckload of albums. He grew up fishing and exploring on the French Broad River in Brevard, NC. He is currently touring with Jupiter Coyote and performing solo listening room and house shows all over the U.S.