So it's Saturday afternoon and Janet and I have driven up the mountain from Spartanburg to Black Mountain, where a guy named Scott at a place called The Madison Inn is holding us a $119 suite for $79. We'd picked Black Mountain because Janet wanted to see it because she wants to go to LEAF (The Lake Edens Arts Festival), and I wanted to stop by Song of the Wood, the famous hammer dulcimer shop of Jerry Reed Smith. And besides, it was not too far from where we had been and on the way to where we were headed.
When you call up The Madison's website, the first thing you notice is that it doesn't look like any of the stereotypic "bed and breakfast" resorts that you tend to find advertised from the Southern Appalachians. Which is to say that The Madison doesn't look like and isn't marketed as a cross between a Shoney's megabar and a Thomas Kinkade painting.