January 1, 2026
When you picture a state park, the first things that come to mind are tranquility, mossy paths, and whispery tree canopies. What I found at Eno River State Park was a lot less bucolic and a lot more bedlam from last year’s storms.
I knew Eno had taken a beating. In July 2025, Tropical Storm Chantal unleashed record flooding along the Eno River, pushing water levels higher than ever recorded, even past the mark set by Hurricane Fran in 1996. The iconic suspension bridge that many hikers come to see was heavily damaged by floodwaters and debris, forcing closures and leaving part of the structure unusable.
Cleanup and assessment continued for months. Trails were washed out, huge piles of debris still lined riverbanks, and tens of thousands of trees were uprooted or at risk of falling. 9th Street Journal
The result is that parts of the park still feel like a battlefield of storm leftovers. Muddy heaps of sticks and leaves line rerouted paths. There’s a sense that nature’s recovery is still mid-story.
I expected solitude. What I found instead were clusters of people in areas that were technically open. Parking lots were busy, chatter echoed through stretches of trail that should feel isolated, and the atmosphere was more “busy dog-walking promenade” than “hidden forest retreat.”
Credit where it’s due: the new visitor center is genuinely a bright spot. It’s clean, modern, and has good information displays. But the person staffing the desk while I was there was shockingly abrupt. She was crocheting between visitors and while I’m all for multitasking with yarn, her responses were aggressive and unwelcoming. It felt like the park’s hospitality was on perpetual trial, and every question was a challenge. So even the nicest physical space was marred by a sour human interaction.
Eno River State Park could be charming. It should be relaxing. But right now, between the lingering storm damage, the unexpected crowds, and that visitor center experience, it felt more like a half-finished project than a nature haven.
If you’re dreaming of a serene hike with winding rivers and cooling shade, I’d hold off until the park has had more time to recover and rebuild. If you’re curious to witness a landscape wrestling back from nature’s fury and you don’t mind crowds or bluster at the info desk you might still find something worth the walk.
