High above the forest floor in the North Georgia mountains, Chip Wade’s latest project doesn’t just sit within the landscape; it floats through it. Set along the Pinhoti Trail, this collection of elevated treehouses—The Tom, The Jenny, and The Jake—redefines what outdoor living can look like when design starts with the land, not against it.
Suspended 20-25 feet above grade and rising more than 70 feet at their peaks, the structures blend into the surroundings. “I love to create environments that are very compelling for everyone … people that appreciate a beautiful place to stay,” Wade explains. But what makes this project especially relevant isn’t just the architecture. It’s how the exterior becomes the experience.
At 3,000 feet elevation, the site came with serious constraints: steep slopes, intense weather exposure, and complex drainage conditions. Rather than flattening or forcing the site into submission, Wade embraced it. The structures are elevated on steel columns, allowing the natural landscape to flow uninterrupted beneath. “You’re not landscaping around the houses,” he says.
“The houses are kind of in the landscape.” This approach minimizes disturbance while maximizing value, turning otherwise “unbuildable” terrain into a high-performing, experiential environment. For industry professionals, it’s a compelling example of how constraint-driven design can unlock new opportunities.
While the interiors are luxurious (and different in each treehouse), the exterior spaces carry the project. Each treehouse is surrounded by immersive outdoor environments:
“We packed a lot in,” Wade notes, describing the intentional density of outdoor living amenities. But the density never feels overwhelming because it’s distributed vertically and woven into the terrain. The result is a seamless indoor-outdoor experience where the landscape isn’t a backdrop; it’s the destination.
Traditional landscape design expands outward. This project expands upward. By stacking usable space across multiple levels, bridges, decks, and under-structure zones, the footprint becomes far more efficient without increasing site impact. Underneath the treehouses, previously unusable slope transforms into covered lounges, recreation zones, spa experiences, and circulation paths. “It’s really intensely packed with a lot of activity,” Wade says.
One of the most striking aspects of the project is how naturally it fits into its surroundings. Despite their scale, the structures feel almost invisible within the forest. “The goal … is to make something that fits in seamlessly with the landscape,” Wade explains. This is achieved through elevation, material selection, and restraint, allowing the forest to remain the focal point. It reinforces a key principle: the most successful projects aren’t imposed on a site—they’re integrated into it.
At this elevation, weather is more extreme, power outages are common, and access is limited. Wade incorporated battery backup systems instead of traditional generators and carefully planned infrastructure to handle drainage, utilities, and exposure. “This was … a conceptual example of ways that you can use land that’s not necessarily flat … and build something very valuable,” he says. It’s a reminder that innovation isn’t just about design, it’s about solving for reality.
What this project ultimately demonstrates is a shift in how outdoor spaces are valued. It’s no longer about adding a patio or framing a view. It’s about creating fully immersive environments—places where architecture, landscape, and experience are inseparable. “It’s one of those places … when you’re there, it’s different,” Wade says. For landscape architects, contractors, and maintenance professionals, that difference is the opportunity. To design smarter. To build lighter. To maintain with intention. And to create spaces that don’t just sit on the land, but truly belong to it.