Butterfly Habitat vs. Hurricane Helene: A Special Report

Reprinted from the Winter 2024 edition of the Carolina Butterfly Society newsletter.

Heather Rayburn

1/26/20257 min read

2025: Not looking good for WNC Butterflies
2025: Not looking good for WNC Butterflies

This fall, the grim reality of climate change came crashing into the mountains of Western North Carolina (WNC) with the arrival of Tropical Storm Helene. For a naturalist, this event struck a devastating blow.

This report highlights the post-hurricane status of several of my favorite butterfly spots in and near my hometown of Asheville, NC, and includes a harrowing account of how one Carolina Butterfly Society (CBS) Board member came perilously close to losing his life in the storm.

On the last Saturday of September, I’d planned to lead the first official outing of the Western North Carolina (WNC) Chapter of the CBS to Mount Mitchell State Park (MOMI) in Yancey County, the only place in the Carolinas to reliably find the rare high-elevation Green Comma (Polygonia faunus).

Hurricane Helene had other plans. On Sept. 27, I awoke to a nightmare. We had lost a rental house, a car, part of our fence, and a substantial portion of our butterfly garden to fallen oaks. We had no electricity, cell, internet service. (We wouldn’t have potable water again until Nov. 18.) Helene, the deadliest hurricane in NC’s history, claimed 102 lives statewide, including 42 in my county. For two solid weeks, the relentless wail of sirens and the roar of rescue helicopters dominated our soundscape.

Toxic debris and chemicals flooded our waterways and thousands of homes were severely damaged or completely destroyed. The glorious trees of our region suffered horribly. The NC Forest Service estimates that the storm damaged 822,000 acres of timberland, primarily in WNC. This new ground fuel puts us at high risk of severe wildfires and potentially more habitat destruction.

What about the butterflies?

Write your text here...The sight of a butterfly can lift my spirits like nothing else, but it’s the other stages of insect life that give butterfly experts like Harry LeGrand the most concern after an event like Hurricane Helene.

“I truly fear for the great loss of butterfly eggs, and pupae, and ditto for larval stages of dragonflies, getting washed away,” wrote Harry in response to an email. “Most butterflies, dragonflies, and damselflies will probably be hard hit next year.”

Up on Mount Mitchell, the weather station recorded 24.41” of rain over a three-day period and measured a wind gust of 106 mph. Green Commas overwinter in loose tree bark and tree cavities. Harry said adult butterflies can survive wind and rain. I hope they avoided being crushed.

A couple of weeks ago, I drove to the end of Town Mountain Road where I would normally catch the Blue Ridge Parkway to MOMI. There’s a gravel lot there at Craven Gap and access to the Mountains-to-Sea Trail. I parked and got out of the car. It looked like a bomb had exploded. Fallen trees and cracked trees littered the viewshed around me. It called to mind photos I’ve seen of the meteorite damage from the1908 Tunguska meteor burst over Siberia.

I got back in the car, went home, and stayed in bed the rest of the day.

Scott Hartley, MOMI’s 2024 seasonal naturalist, had left the park before the storm hit but returned briefly to get his belongings. He didn’t get to go on any of the trails but said, “The spruce fir forest there appears to have fared better than the shredding of the cove hardwood forest at lower elevations.” As for MOMI, it’s closed indefinitely.

French Broad River and the Asheville Butterfly Trail

At my first opportunity, I rode down to the French Broad River in Asheville to check on two spots; the Bee City USA/GreenWorks butterfly garden and the New Belgium Brewery campus.

What a shocking sight. The flooding and winds had scoured the river banks of vegetation and had gutted or entirely erased buildings. At one city park, an RV hung high off the ground, impaled by a walkway ramp. Shredded plastics waved in the tree branches, and junk littered the banks and collected against bridge pilings. The air smelled like raw sewage.A few years ago, my friend Phyllis Stiles, founder of Bee City USA, and a group of her volunteers installed a large butterfly garden next to the river. The city had already planted a nice stand of tall Panicum grass in that area along with a retention pond.

Today, I can tell you that half of that butterfly garden made it, and the large grass planting completely held up. A filing cabinet and bales of cardboard littered the retaining pond, but the small willows next to it stayed upright.

Bryan Tompkins, a biologist with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, later pointed out something that I didn’t notice about the garden. “A lot of the seed heads are still intact and holding seed Those seeds will help revegetate the site,” he said. “Overall, my bet is that the gardens grow back just fine this coming spring.”

Next stop, the brewery…

In 2016, New Belgium Brewery built their brewery on an18-acre brownfield site and landscaped with a rich diversity of native plants. In the warm months, their campus teems with butterflies and stands as an exemplar of how big business can do great things with great leadership. Sadly, the flooding did breach the brewery. As of this writing, it remains temporarily closed. However, the hurricane didn’t hurt the butterfly meadow! It looks just as it should this time of year.

More good news: Before the hurricane, Bee City USA launched the Asheville Butterfly Trail with their first two sculptures – the Eastern Tiger Swallowtail and Gulf Fritillary. Both survived the storm!

Sandy Mush Game Lands, Buncombe County

I didn’t even know this 2,795-acre, state-owned game land until I contacted local butterflying legend Gail Lankford several years ago and asked her to teach me how to butterfly. My favorite walk there begins at the Bear Creek Road parking lot (35.72892, -82.69877). Though I didn’t see any butterflies on my recent visit, I’m happy to report very little damage at that part of the game lands.

Hot Springs, Madison County

CBS Board member Pete Dixon and his wife, Mary, own a farm and cabin rental near Hot Springs. Their town lies along the French Broad River, next to Pisgah National Forest, and took on massive storm damage. Our local paper reported several dramatic instances of heroic rescues in that area. Pete and his daughter, Josey, had gone out to see the river at what seemed like a safe distance, with Mary further behind.

Pete described the surreal scene as they watched two jet skis pass by, along with giant trees, a propane tank, and even hot tubs. Heaps of pipe from Silver-Line Plastic, 40 miles upriver, rushed by as well.

“It was just a really different kind of flood,” said Pete. “It would come and go in surges – way up and then way back down – changing depth from moment to moment. There was so much energy in the water. I just stood there in awe of it.”

Suddenly, Pete heard Mary scream. He and Josey turned to see a full-sized walnut falling toward them. Pete grabbed his daughter and held her tight. After a terrifying second, they opened their eyes to find themselves standing in the tree’s top. Remarkably, they had threaded through an open space in the branches with just a scratch.

I heard this story after driving out to Hot Springs on Oct. 31. I navigated mini-landslides and buckled asphalt on the road to the farm, but once I turned onto the Dixon driveway, everything looked peaceful and normal, lifting my spirits. After coffee, Pete and I took a lap around the farm, where we had good butterfly numbers. Then we set out to the gravel road.

The storm had re-organized the topography of the river in many places. Pete pointed out several empty spots in the water where little islands had once stood.

“It just blows me away,” he said. “Over there. That used to be one. It had gigantic trees on it. Kestrels used to nest there. Now, it’s all gone.”

Other islands, including one owned by the Nature Conservancy, resembled garbage dumps. At one point, we passed a 15-foot-tall mound of trash by the road. Pete noted that invasive species thrive on disturbance, and the storm created an ideal opening for them. The invasive Japanese knotweed has already recovered, lush and green, filling in the new gaps.

A Sleepy Orange buzzed past us. Then Pete spotted some fish in the water.

“That’s a good sign,” he said. “I see couple of small-mouth bass and bluegill. I figured most of the fish had been washed away.” Pete’s also seen herons and ducks daily since the storm.

Biologists say storms like Helene impact aquatic species and their habitats the most, but Pete had some positive news about dragonfly nymphs. After the storm, he sampled nearby creeks and found six species in Laurel Creek (no flood scouring) and four species in Spring Creek (scoured by flood), a welcome surprise.

We also discussed the good timing of scientist Jeff Pippin’s Carolina Butterfly Monitoring Project. Two years ago, we took Jeff’s training, where volunteers select a route and learn to conduct scientifically structured butterfly surveys. Pete chose his Hot Springs route; I chose Mount Mitchell.

“When compared with surveys in the months and years to come, these data will be invaluable for helping interpret the effects of Helene on some of our native insect populations,” Jeff told me in an email. “There are several rare butterfly populations in the NC mountains. I’m quite concerned about how they fared.”

Back on the road, Pete stopped at the curve on the way to "the fishing hole,” where we always look for Least Skippers and Eastern Red Damsels in the ditch. The flooding had scoured the gravel road to its original rubble, and repairs road wokers hadn’t made it past this spot. We got out and climbed through the rubble.

Our ditch had vanished, replaced by river silt. Across from us, we saw a cargo container stranded on an island. Pete said it contained lawn mowers and other yard tools. The family who lost it also lost a couple of acres of pasture to the flood. “The land just disappeared into the river.”

After we passed through that section, the road turned away from the river. The destruction lay out of sight, and the road was solid, lined with trees in fall color. It felt like a dream – blue sky above, no loud dusty traffic, and the road a beautiful carpet of red, yellow and orange leaves. Then the view opened back up to river and the dream ended.

Craven Gap, 2024, by Heather Rayburn
Craven Gap, 2024, by Heather Rayburn
2024 Bee City Butterfly Garden, River Arts District
2024 Bee City Butterfly Garden, River Arts District

Craven Gap, Buncombe County, at the entrance to the Blue Ridge Parkway. A terrible and depressing sight.

The Bee City USA native plant butterfly garden in Asheville's River Arts District

This article originally appeared in teh Winter 2024 Carolina Butterfly Society newsletter, The Chrysalis. Click here to become a member and receive a year's subscription to this publication.