Three people, three properties, six years of hosting — and a stubborn belief that a rental should feel like somewhere a family actually loved enough to share.
The first time we drove up Sugar Mountain, the road bent and the Blue Ridge opened up in every direction at once. We came back the next year. Then the year after that. Eventually it stopped being a trip and started being a place — somewhere our family knew, somewhere we belonged for a few weeks at a time.
When the chance came to buy a top-floor condo at Sugartop Mountain Resort, we took it. Then a second one came up two doors down — and we couldn't say no to that, either.
A lot of vacation rentals are run from a spreadsheet by someone who's never spent a night in the unit. Ours aren't. Every couch was sat on, every kitchen cooked in, every bed slept in by us first — usually many times over.
Hosting wasn't the original plan. It became the plan when we realized how much we wanted other families to have what we had: the late-afternoon light coming through the sliding doors, kids' bare feet on the deck, sunset over the resort with a pizza box and too many pillows.
"Every detail handled by us, every home cared for the way we'd want our own to be."
Most of what's inside our condos was assembled by Brenan and Nolan with tools they barely knew how to use the first weekend, and could practically do blindfolded by the third. The TV stand. The couch. That ceiling fan.
Nolan Perry is technically our friend, but at this point he's family — the third person you should picture when we say "MVP Rentals." If you stay at Sugartop and something needs fixing, it's probably Nolan in his truck on the way up the mountain.
Somewhere along the way, Sugartop stopped being "the condo" and started being their mountain. They have a favorite balcony chair. A favorite pool day ritual. Opinions about which condo has the better fireplace.
That's the part we couldn't have planned for and is the part we're most grateful for. A rental can be a transaction. Or it can be a place a family remembers — the way we remember every road trip we ever took as kids and the way our kids will hopefully remember Sugartop.
Sugar Mountain is four hours from where we actually live. So when a chance came up to host a townhome closer to the Triangle — walkable to downtown Cary, an easy hop to Raleigh and Durham — we took that one too.
907 Lexington is a different vibe than Sugartop. It's modern, neighborhood-y, good for business travelers, weekend visitors, and families coming to see folks in the area. Same care, same hands-on hosting — just with sidewalks instead of switchbacks.
Pictures from our own stays. We add to this whenever we have a trip that's too good to keep to ourselves.