Urband Legends In North Carolina

The Siren of the French Broad

Nowadays, it has seems like the Appalachian trail is as crowded as a busy city street, with noisy novice hikers clad head to toe in the latest, most expensive, gear, armed with GPS devices and constantly talking on their cell phones. With the hills becoming so crowded, a man who wants to get out alone in the wilderness has farther and farther to go.

Such a man might decide to head out on his own, and just follow the course of a nearby wandering river. If he started out from Asheville, his course would naturally be along the French Broad whose wide banks skirt the city. Taking a light pack and a few days worth of food, he could just set out along the course of the river, pausing frequently to watch the water rolling over its rocks, and just enjoying the peacefulness and quiet still to be found on its banks.

But on the first night, after he has pitched his tent and settles down in his sleeping bag, he may find himself tossing and turning and troubled by strange dreams. A beautiful, dark haired, dark eyed woman walks in and out of his restless mind all night long. And though the whole night through, he dreams of nothing but only her, he can never see her clearly and she always seems like she's a great distance away. He is woken before dawn by the sound of what he thinks is singing, but the sound soon vanishes as he waits in his tent for the light to come.

When dawn comes, he cooks his breakfast, packed his tent, and makes his way further down the river, moving more slowly than yesterday and still feeling groggy and dazed. He doesn't get as far down the river as he thinks he will, and when the evening comes he's glad to pitch his tent and lay down wrapped in his bag. There expects sleep to come easy after his exhausting day.

But again his dreams are troubled by the vision of the dark-haired woman. Again, he awakes to the sound of singing, but this time the voice comes at midnight, and the young man steps out of his tent to stand by the banks of the river in the darkness, the sound persists. A subtle, beautiful singing full of rich melancholy and precious longing. Enchanted, he lays down by the side of the river, and with the sound in his mind his exhausted body gives in and he drifts off to sleep. When he wakes on the hard rocks, it's well past dawn and all he can remember from his dreams is that the woman was there again and this time she seemed much closer.

On the third day, he walks even more slowly than the last, and when he gets to a certain bend in the river where the water collects in a deep pool, he finds himself unwilling to move from the spot. He pitches his tent well before dusk and sits by the river to wait.

As twilight descends into night, the young man doesn't go inside of his tent, but still sits by the side of the river, staring into the deep waters of the pool. As night comes into its own, the young man hears the sweet singing once again, more indescribably beautiful than any voice he has ever heard. And as the voice grows louder it seems to be coming from the pool of dark water by his feet. And as he looks into the pool, he seems to see the form of a beautiful dark-haired woman rising out of the water towards him. She is naked and more perfect than he could have imagined, the smooth curves of her body seeming to repeat the slow, smooth curves of the river. And he knows that she is singing to him.

Unable to resist, the young man reaches into the water to touch the woman, but as her hand wraps around his, it's not warm flesh that he feels, but cold, rough and slimy scales and claws that dig painfully into his arm before he can pull away.Before he even has a chance to scream, the cold grip pulls him into the dark water and he disappears below the surface and to his doom, another young life lost to the Siren of the French Broad.