By Amie Knowles
Boy, do I ever have a story for y’all. I took a few days off last week to enjoy quality time with my family in North Carolina and Tennessee. Long story short, our plans for Friday fizzled by Thursday afternoon. So, being the volunteer vacation planner that I am, I sought other fun for us. That’s when I saw it—the Virginia Highlands Festival was taking place in Abingdon.
I’ve wanted to attend the Highlands Festival for years. I told my husband and son all about it, especially emphasizing the important role of maple syrup. I promised a county-wide affair with specialized maple tree tours and everything. So, we packed our bags, I grabbed my good camera, and we even booked a hotel room in the area.
When we arrived, we saw some craft vendors in the field across from the Barter Theatre and beside the Martha Washington Inn & Spa. It took about 20 minutes to explore the various goods. Then, we were ready for our maple-themed adventure. We asked a vendor where we were supposed to go next. “What do you mean?” he asked. That should’ve been our first clue.
We eventually found an online guide to the different activities taking place. There was a free grist mill tour. I love grist mills, and it was only a 10-minute drive. We went, but quickly discovered we were the only souls at Whites Mill. There was an unattended cell phone and checkbook on the counter, but no people or syrup in sight. We looked around for a few minutes, but then left—because that’s how horror movies start.
But that was fine. We had our handy dandy online guide, which I epically misread, so to the Muster Grounds we drove for historical reenactments and demonstrations. I thought those events were happening until 6 p.m., but us 5 o’clockers were the only people in the open field. We later discovered that the scheduled activities ended at 3 p.m.
Not to fear. There was one final event, and that was seeing hot air balloons up close and personal. We drove to the location and waited. And waited. And waited. According to pictures I saw online later that night, the hot air balloons did indeed arrive and inflate for a glow—but not while we were there.
Curious, I pulled out my phone to research the puzzling lack of maple syrup at the Virginia Highlands Festival. That’s when I discovered … we were at the wrong festival. Not only was the festival not in July, it was in March. It wasn’t in Abingdon, it was four hours northeast in Monterey. And it wasn’t the Virginia Highlands Festival, it was the Highland County Maple Festival. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.
So if you’re looking for maple syrup in the summertime, Abingdon is not the place. But if you’re wanting to enjoy a day in Southwest Virginia, the cool mountain town is truly an amazing place to be—and it’s totally on me that it wasn’t quite what we were expecting this time around. If you’re in or near Abingdon, how about I make it up to you with a better-planned trip later this fall where I show off the area’s best hidden gems? I’ll just leave off the maple syrup.