My horse and I cross a little stream and follow the narrow path out of the woods. The leaves of the trees that flank the meadow turn sassy with wind that shoves the sun in and out of clouds. As we poke along, I watch our shadows dart and lengthen and disappear beneath us. One hoof kicks up a rock, and birds startle and flutter. There’s the sweet, vaguely smoky scent of leather, a slant of sunlight you want to follow because it might lead to a rainbow. The space beneath my horse’s mane is warm, and I rest a hand there, feeling the rhythm of his gait. And everywhere I look, there’s a sense of the tremendous: hills, sky, the boundless freedom and sanctuary of a wide-open elsewhere. At such moments, sitting atop a horse can make you feel like bursting into song or prayer — or a gallop.

Trevor Whitson and Abbie Smith Hanchey, co-owners of Leatherwood Mountains Resort, know this feeling well. The two business partners, friends since childhood, grew up riding horses together. Now, they welcome vacationers to the hills of Wilkes County. Among its many offerings — hiking and riding trails, fishing, swimming, tennis and pickleball courts, a zipline, a playground for children — Leatherwood is, above all, an equestrian community. Meaning, you can take your horse on vacation with you, if you have a horse. If you don’t, the folks at Leatherwood can set you up with one for a guided trail ride or for a riding lesson or two.

I’d been dreaming of an excursion to a place like this for a long time, maybe since my girlhood a hundred years ago, when I was in love with horses and rode them full-throttle. Like many young riders, I eventually took a different path. But for the lucky few, like Hanchey and Whitson, horses are a way of life from the moment they hit the saddle, and Leatherwood is a testament to this enduring devotion.

• • •

The Leatherwood story began in 1985, with love of horses front and center. Original developer Dick Johnston envisioned a community around trail riding, and he put covenants in place that granted easements for that purpose. In developing the extensive network of trails, he designed vistas reminiscent of the Blue Ridge Parkway: inspiring overlooks, split-rail fences with pastures, pristine acres of sloping woodlands.

Meanwhile, Hanchey began riding horses as a 9-year-old in Clemmons. Her parents and Whitson’s parents were old friends from college who vacationed together at Leatherwood, bringing their families and horses along. In the early 1990s, while a student at Appalachian State University, Hanchey got her first job at the resort, mucking out stalls, guiding trail rides, and giving riding lessons.

For visitors who don’t own horses, guided rides are an opportunity to get in the saddle a few times a year. photograph by Revival Creatives

Whitson’s dad, Phil, had become Leatherwood’s lead real estate agent, and when Johnston decided to sell the development, he and General Manager Phil Rash formed a partnership and bought it. Hanchey continued working there after college and credits Rash as her mentor in running the business. Whitson soon joined his dad in real estate sales, and when “the two Phils” decided it was time to pass the torch, he and Hanchey formed their own partnership and bought the place — a decision made with mind and heart.

Today, Leatherwood encompasses approximately 4,000 acres, 50 miles of trails, and 135 homes — about 45 of which are part of a rental program, some with stalls for visiting horses. Together with the Leatherwood property owners association, Hanchey and Whitson preserve the rugged beauty that inspired Johnston’s original vision: Even the most luxurious homes are imbued with rustic charm and tucked into natural landscapes that respect the curvatures of the hills.

• • •

Early one morning as I head down the mountain to meet Hanchey at the stables, I encounter the first wild turkeys I’ve ever seen. Regal, lean as pheasants, silver and brown, a pair stride gracefully across the road as if they’ve just stepped out of a storybook. The woods glimmer the yellowing green of a Golden Delicious apple. It’s so quiet you can hear the sigh of a falling leaf as it settles to earth.

At the stables, Hanchey halters her blue roan mare, Della, and hands me a brush. I lose myself in the silky motion of grooming a horse who stands as still as a princess being fitted for a ballgown. Della has the same markings as Hanchey’s first “heart horse,” Blue Solitude: a steely blue coat that looks lightly frosted and sometimes changes to dark gray, depending on the season. Like Blue Solitude, she also has a white blaze on her forehead.

Hanchey fell in love with riding at age 9 and made it a family affair. “That’s when everybody’s lives changed,” she says, “when horses became part of it.” Now, she and her blue roan mare, Della, welcome riders of all ages to Leatherwood Mountains Resort. photograph by David Uttley

It’s still difficult for Hanchey to talk about Blue, who died in 2010. He was a gentle giant, a 17-hands-tall Tennessee walking horse that Santa brought her when she was 10 and who quickly became her dearest friend and confidante. They were a prizewinning team at horse shows, too.

“Horses are the best listeners,” Hanchey says. They hear and perceive everything.” Della is not a replacement for Blue, she explains, but her sweet demeanor is a reminder of the necessary gladness that comes from finding a horse you can talk to.

It’s time for Della’s adjustment session with Dr. Morgan McCaskill, a chiropractor certified to treat animals. She gets right to work, tugging a front leg, leaning on a flank, her hands often seeming to disappear into Della’s neck muscles. Della blinks her large, dark, dewy eyes, unfazed, an admirable patient.

A barn hand readies my horse, Jericho, a tall but kind-looking light bay Appendix quarter horse. I haven’t been on a horse in, golly, 30 years, and the days of slinging myself into the saddle without a mounting block are long gone. What if I’ve forgotten how to hold the reins? But I haven’t. I’m here to testify that no matter your age or infirmities, a lilting ride on a good pleasure horse is tonic for all that ails you.

The Hendrix Home Place — an 1840s log cabin where special events are held — hints at the history hidden in these hills. photograph by David Uttley

Antique furnishings accent the interior of Hendrix Home Place. photograph by David Uttley

Hanchey, riding a lovely buckskin mare named Bess, leads the way. We pass the Hendrix Home Place, a historic log house with a swath of emerald lawn where weddings and other special events are held. We thread a path in and out of the woods, where I observe leafy flashes of dark green, garnet, ruby, yellow topaz, and copper, as if the trees are trying on jewelry. “Riding beneath a canopy of trees is like being in a cathedral,” Hanchey says.

We speak of the reverential feeling one often experiences in nature when on horseback. What is it about being with horses? Their docility and compliance despite their powerful size is humbling. I think riding them calms my urgency, opens my senses, helps me stay in the moment and genuinely notice my surroundings. Hanchey says just being with horses makes her feel soulful.

We talk about our similar girlhoods, when caring for horses meant everything. Whereas my devotion became fragmented and ebbed, Hanchey’s remained central to her life. Is it possible these days for young girls to experience the totally absorbing, wild and woolly freedoms of barn life the way we did? All I know for certain is that being atop Jericho in the here and now, among the trees, feels like true respite from a dizzying world.

• • •

The horse-loving vision of Leatherwood’s creators and the devoted involvement of its heirs, with their deep ties to the community, combined to create an enduring legacy. Leatherwood is a getaway run by folks who value time spent with family, lifelong friendships, the beauty of the natural world, and the chance to see it all astride a horse.

The on-site Saddlebrook Restaurant welcomes diners on the weekends, often with a side of local music. photograph by David Uttley

Although the work of running the resort can be overwhelming at times, Whitson and Hanchey say they’re both in it for life. “I came here as a girl, fell in love with the place, have never left and won’t,” Hanchey says. Many of their staff members have been there for decades as well. Whitson’s young daughter now rides with him on trails he grew up exploring. On weekend evenings at Saddlebrook, Leatherwood’s on-site restaurant, with a local band playing and a gathering of congenial patrons, Hanchey and Whitson feel plenty lucky and thank the abundant stars above.

The sign on the porch at the Welcome Center reads: HIKE, RIDE, FISH, PLAY, GET AWAY! Clearly, Leatherwood is not just for horse lovers — there’s a range of activities to enjoy and adventures to be had. But for many homeowners and visitors, the true prize is the act of getting away and simply being in a lovely elsewhere.

• • •

In the evening, after settling into my cozy, horse-themed cottage on Tin Horn Road, I wander downhill to a little barn and paddock. A dark bay quarter horse with a small white star on his forehead is lipping at weeds. The cottage owner, Rosette Jefferson, had been told that I’m a horse lover and kindly left Moo there as my roommate, sort of (he’ll sleep outside, of course).

I stay with Moo a long and meditative time, watching night descend and darken the ridgeline. The silence is so profound that I imagine I hear, somewhere in the woods, a baby black bear yawning. Where the sun has disappeared, the sky remains palest mauve, the twilight above deepening to indigo. It will be a perfect night to see the stars. Stars here, I’ve been told, are as magical as the horses.

Some renters turn into buyers, and the community is currently home to about 30 full-time residents. Renters usually want mountain views, whereas residents tend to like the convenience of lower elevations. Being in the Foothills, Leatherwood offers both. photograph by David Uttley

But a big bossy spotlight of a moon takes over the sky, so bright I can see my shadow. In the distance, no other light appears, either from a star or from civilization. I’ll drop into bed early. There’s a television, but why? There’s my laptop, but why? How serene it feels to unplug, to listen to the trees and the wind and the hills, and to gaze at the moon for one’s news.

Did I say there were no stars out tonight? Moo, my dear companion, tilts his head toward me, and I see the little star on his forehead winking in the moonlight. I’m reluctant to leave him, but soon it’s time. Goodnight, mountains. Goodnight, Moo.

Leatherwood Mountains Resort
512 Meadow Road
Ferguson, NC 28624
(800) 462-6867
leatherwoodmountains.com