There was a town out here once.

In the early 1900s, a rail line ran through these hollers and a whole community lived alongside it. The people are long gone. The railroad grade is still here, cut into the ridges, swallowed by kudzu and second-growth timber. That's the road we take you down — eight miles of it, after dark, with your headlights and whatever's standing in them.

You won't be driving. One of our guides handles the vehicle so you can keep your hands free and your eyes where they need to be. You choose your ride: a Polaris RZR Side by Side if you want it raw and open, or a Jeep Rubicon if you'd rather have doors between you and the woods.

Our hand-picked actors work this trail. They know every cut, every blind turn, every place a set of headlights won't reach. Some nights the vehicle stops and they come to you — close enough that a chainsaw doesn't sound like a sound effect anymore.

Not everyone wants it at full strength, and that's fine. Tell your driver at check-in and we'll run the lights up and dial the actors back — they'll wave instead of getting in your face. Same trail, same history, less heart attack. Kids ride this version every weekend.

Before and after your run, the base camp is yours: live music, food and drinks from the Cliffview Cafe, nightly drink specials, and a fire to stand around while you wait for your name to be called.

Third year running. Weekends only. When the trail is full for a night, it's full.