Cindy’s in Highlands, North Carolina, enjoying the company of friends. I’m on my way to get her. Along the way, I’m looking for something, or someone, interesting to write about.

It’s been years since my last stay at Dillard House Resort in Dillard, Georgia. I’m delighted to discover a significant transformation in progress as construction is underway all over its campus. “It’ll be an eighty-million-dollar resort property,” a staffer tells me. In my opinion, Dillard House Resort is destined to become one of North Georgia’s premier mountain resorts. Meanwhile, growing pains have created some issues. But rather than making those issues my focus, I prefer to accentuate the positive. I’ll visit again in a couple of years to see how things have changed for the better.

Excellent hospitality is an art not always easy to execute. But the Southerner’s innate friendliness combined with a “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” attitude gives the South a distinct advantage. A young Dillard House Restaurant hostess is the perfect example.

“Is this the original dining room or was it somewhere else?” I ask her.

“This is the original spot. It just used to look a lot different. It was very closed in. There was still the window view, but it was a lot darker.”

“How long have you worked at Dillard House?”

“I’ve worked at Dillard House for about five months. I love it. I think the environment is great. I love the view. I go outside all the time and just stand by the door. I’m so appreciative of where we live. It’s such a beautiful spot.”

“What was it like growing up in Dillard?”

“It was great. I was always hiking Pickens Nose.”

Pickens Nose is the name given a rock formation, elevation 4,900 feet, by native Americans who thought the outcropping resembled the nose of a Revolutionary War soldier named Pickens. “You can hike up there and see the whole town and all the way to Lake Burton. It’s a beautiful view. I love and have grown really appreciative of nature because we just live in such a beautiful area.” The trailhead is about thirty-five minutes from Dillard House. “It’s about a mile up,” she says.

I ask about her plans for the future.

“That’s something I’ve really been debating. My dad didn’t go to college, and he has a very successful career for himself as an entrepreneur. He does a lot of work around this area doing construction. He’s really given me inspiration to learn things without having to go to college, and maybe have my own business. So, I’m really in a rock and a hard place with that. I know learning is free. College is helpful for some people but, for me, I don’t know if it’s the path I want to go down. I have, in my family, doctors, teachers, very smart individuals. But I’m thinking about entering the workforce and learning (on my own). I’m so family oriented. It’s just hard to find the right person.” She laughs a bit nervously. “I really do think it would be best for me, at least when I do have children, to be with them full-time and even maybe do some homeschooling and teach them the right way. I love my life. And I know I have so much more traveling and learning to do. I’m really excited.”

Now. I’m thinking … this young lady is a breath of fresh air and the embodiment of poise: confident, delightful, hospitable, and a gifted communicator. I expect her to be running this place when I return in a couple of years!

Onward to Highlands.

When I purchased my Honda Accord Sport Special Edition five years ago, I asked the saleslady about the SPORT button on the console.

“Whatever you do, don’t touch it,” she warned me.

I’m driving on Highway 64 West. There’s a fellow on my bumper. To his chagrin, I’m driving like an old geezer, negotiating many narrow curves and switchbacks with great caution. But he’s beginning to get on my nerves. There are zero opportunities for him to pass and few places along this route to get out of his way. Oncoming traffic is brisk. To make matters worse, the flooding in 2024 has left bad trenches along the road. If not careful, I could drop a tire into one. Conversely, a little distance between our bumpers would soothe my nerves.
The sport button is shouting my name.

64 West is hardly North Carolina’s famed “Tail of the Dragon” with its 318 curves in eleven miles. But it must surely be the Dragon’s sister!

My rearview mirror says he’s still there.

I punch the button.

The engine’s RPM’s—how many full turns the engine’s central crankshaft makes in 60 seconds—increase from 1,500 to 8,000. I feed it fuel. In seconds, my friend disappears from view. In a mile or so, I see a roadside gravel clearing ahead and pull off. I allow him to pass, steer my Honda back onto the road, and proceed with care. But within a minute, there are four blood-red Porsches hot on my tail. And no matter how fast I go, they stay with me. As before, I exit into gravel. The sleek little machines roar by me as if on the track at Indy. The last driver waves a hand of appreciation in the air, thanking me for yielding asphalt—just another (my) sterling example of Southern hospitality at its best. The pleasure is all mine.

Jeff Barganier is a novelist, travel writer and speaker. He travels far and wide upon the slightest excuse for something interesting to write about. His novels include Lawson’s Bluff (2021); The Slash Brokers (1998). He also manages Cindy Barganier Interiors LLC at The Waters in Pike Road, Alabama. Contact Jeff at Jeffbarganier@knology.net. You may print out his features at www.jeffbarganier.com and take them with you when you travel!