The High Country Sanctuary
Story by Jennifer Primrose | Photos courtesy of Leatherwood Mountains
On a road trip west from Raleigh, there is a moment when the traffic lightens, the air shifts, and the pace of everyday life begins to loosen its grip.
Leatherwood Mountains, near Ferguson in the Blue Ridge foothills, sits just off the main mountain corridor—close enough to the region’s most familiar destinations to be convenient, but remote enough that the landscape takes over first. It is still within reach of the High Country’s most recognizable anchors—the upscale charm of Blowing Rock, the collegiate energy of Boone, and the musical heritage of Wilkesboro—yet it doesn’t feel dependent on any of them. Here, a morning can unfold entirely within trails and pasture, while an afternoon can still carry you into town for coffee, galleries, or music, without the sense that you’ve changed pace.
But the real draw isn’t just the proximity to town; it’s the 4,000 acres of preserved ridges and valleys that make up the resort itself. This land was originally envisioned by developer Dick Johnston as a sanctuary where the mountains’ natural character would always come first—a legacy of open space and equestrian freedom that has been maintained for over 40 years. Today, the property functions as both a gated residential community for full-time homeowners and a vacation destination for those seeking a mountain retreat.
That legacy is guarded by business partners Trevor Whitson and Abbie Hanchey. The pair have known each other since they were “knee-high to a grasshopper,” and their lifelong connection forms the backbone of Leatherwood’s culture. “Abbie is more like a sister than a partner,” Whitson says. They call themselves the “Yin and Yang” of management—two people who love the same place and rarely agree on the same approach. Since taking over as owners in 2017 they’ve added live music, expanded the restaurant, and turned the property into a wedding venue—all without losing sight of what made Leatherwood worth saving. Whitson jokes that if you catch him and Hanchey in a spirited debate on a wedding day, don’t worry. “It means everything is going to go perfectly,” he laughs. “She’s the push, and I’m the pull.”
A Vision Carved Into the Foothills
The history of this land goes back to the mid-1980s, when Johnston began assembling thousands of acres of rugged terrain. When the resort’s future grew uncertain in the 90s, Whitson’s father, Phil Whitson, and his partner, Phil Rash, stepped in. For over 20 years, the “two Phils” stabilized the mountain, eventually passing the torch to Whitson and Hanchey in 2017.
The Whitson and Hanchey families were drawn into this vision through a stroke of serendipity. The parents were longtime friends who often rode together, and Hanchey’s parents discovered Leatherwood at
a booth at the North Carolina State Fair. Intrigued by the concept of a dedicated horse community, they called Whitson’s parents with a simple invitation: “I found a new place for us to go ride.” When Whitson’s father visited, he was so moved by the landscape that he bought a plot of land on a whim that same day.
For the current owners, the resort is a birthright. Hanchey has been an integral part of the Leatherwood story since 1993, and Whitson—who worked his way up shoveling stalls to pay for his first truck—joined full-time in 2006. This lifelong familiarity is what gives the 4,000-acre property its “massive backyard” feel.
From Cowboys to Community: The Generational Shift
While Whitson and Hanchey hold the property’s history sacred, they recognize that the mountain must evolve. “Baby Boomers—my parents’ age—had a lot more cowboys than Gen X,” Whitson notes. In the 1980s and 90s, the resort was almost exclusively equestrian-centric.
Understanding that today’s travelers want a more multifaceted escape, they have leaned into the “scene.” They transformed the restaurant into a gathering spot and prioritized entertainment, including craft beer, live music, and even songwriter nights. “We know the equestrian people got us here,” Whitson says. “But people our age want a scene, a sound, and a place to belong.”
The Living Experience: The Bunk House
To understand how Leatherwood blends its history with modern comfort, you only need to look at where I stayed during my visit.
The Bunk House is a three-bedroom, two-bath rental located right near the East Barn. It still carries the bones of its original life as a caretaker’s home, but the interior has been fully modernized.
The setup includes a modern kitchen, an expanded bath with a walk-in shower, and a screened porch overlooking the equine facility. Mornings at The Bunk House begin with the first light shining through the trees and horses grazing just outside the kitchen window. Down at the stables you’re likely to be greeted by the resident barn cats, who act as a furry welcoming committee.
The best part of The Bunk House, however, is the evening. After a day on the trails, the private hot tub is exactly what you need. As the sun dips behind the ridge, the mountain gets incredibly quiet. Because there’s no light pollution out here, the night sky is clear enough to see every star—a stark contrast to what we’re used to back in the Triangle. It’s that specific combination of quiet and clarity that makes this spot feel like a true escape.
The Bunk House is one of roughly 40 rentals managed on-site, part of a larger portfolio that spans about 144 homes across Leatherwood Mountains. The options range from tucked-away one-bedroom cabins to multi-bedroom homes and larger estates positioned along ridgelines, designed for everything from solo retreats to family gatherings and group stays.
The Rhythm of the Land
My Leatherwood experience began on a beautiful Friday afternoon with my first trail ride since childhood. I was paired with Bess, a 30-year-old mare with a legendary reputation for patience—a trait I needed for my own nerves. Leading the way was Grace Wilcox, Leatherwood’s lead trail guide and barn manager, riding Miguel. While Wilcox kept a calm, grounded presence, Bess had her own ideas about the hierarchy. Despite her status as the calm choice for beginners, she had just a bit of a stubborn streak when it came to leadership. She didn’t just want to walk the trail; she wanted to dictate it, constantly edging toward Miguel to make it clear she was the veteran of the line. “A lot of people think horses are scary because they’re so big,” Wilcox says with a reassuring smile. “But they’re like big dogs. They sense your energy before you even get in the saddle.”
As the trail climbed into the trees, Wilcox offered steady direction—leaning forward on the climbs, easing back on the descents—small adjustments that helped Bess move naturally.
Wilcox shared a bit of wisdom from horseman Buck Brannaman: “If you spend time with them and work with them, they reflect your character and help you build yours.” The truth of that hit home when a small snake crossed our path, sending a few rocks tumbling down the ridge. Bess didn’t break her stride. She stayed calm, and in turn, so did I.
Beyond the Stables
For those who prefer their own two feet to four hooves, the property offers 75 miles of hiking and equestrian trails. This landscape is a true refuge; hunting is strictly prohibited, preserving wildlife and the land’s natural peace. I set out on a 3-mile loop soon after sunrise on my second morning, following a route that wound through Rhodo Gap, Tricky Creek, Daniel Pass, and along portions of the Daniel Boone Trail before looping back toward Jingle.
It begins near the 1892 Keyes Cabin—a simple structure that immediately shifts your sense of time—before climbing steadily into forested terrain where the trail quickly narrows and the world beyond the trees disappears. When the mountain air warms up, the creek becomes the heart of the resort for swimming and tubing. For a swifter pace, there are recently renovated tennis and pickleball courts, while the peaceful ponds provide space for catch-and-release fishing.
A Place to Gather
The feeling of community gathers at Saddlebrook Restaurant, where the history of the mountain is literally built into the furniture. Whitson’s father hand-built the bar using reclaimed wood from the property—a detail that grounds the space in the Whitson family’s hands-on legacy. It’s a place where locals, riders, and travelers mingle over hearty meals. It’s the kind of place Whitson describes as being for people who want more than just a ride—they want a place to belong.
Driving back toward Raleigh, the return feels slightly different than the drive in. Not because the distance changed, but because the rhythm did. Leatherwood isn’t defined by its trails or its fishing. It’s defined by the people who have protected its pace. It acts as a sanctuary, guarded with intention.
