An installment in our Appalachian History and Culture series. Something in the Woods The trail bends through second-growth timber. The ground shifts first. It turns uneven underfoot, as if something was built here and then let go. A low rise crosses the path, a line of stone that no longer holds its shape. A few steps farther,…
An installment in our Appalachian Foodways series By the time supper comes around, you already know what you’ve got. There’s a pot on the stove. Beans, maybe. Greens if the season held. Something that’s been stretched as far as it will go. A skillet comes off the back of the stove and lands on the table. The…
An installment in our Blue Ridge Travel series. Floyd VA Friday Nights Begin on South Locust Street Late Friday afternoon in Floyd, Virginia, fills in by degrees as the Friday night crowd begins to arrive. A few more cars ease from Main Street onto South Locust Street. Someone pauses at the curb and looks around. The pace…
An installment in our Appalachian History and Culture series. At the Old Time Fiddle Competition at the Galax (VA) Old Fiddler’s Convention, the differences in Appalachian fiddle tunes show up quickly if you listen for them. The same tune comes across the stage more than once. It carries the same name and basic melody, but it never…
An installment in our Blue Ridge Travel series. You leave Meadows of Dan in shirtsleeves and point the car toward Route 58 west. The road takes its time at first. It runs easy across the plateau. Once past Independence, it climbs hard, bends tight, and keeps climbing. As you work into the higher ridges, the day you…
An installment in our Appalachian Foodways series You step into the garden knowing the season is about finished. The bean poles are bare now. A few dry pods rattle in the wind where the vines were pulled. Corn shocks lean along the fence, waiting their turn at the crib. The potato rows lie open and dark where…
An installment in our Appalachian History and Culture series. Payday at the Window Payday in a coal camp didn’t look much like payday in town. Miners lined up outside a small office window near the tipple. Sometimes the pay envelope held paper notes printed by the company. Sometimes it held small metal tokens stamped with the mine’s name and a dollar…
An installment in our Appalachian Foodways series The Door Beneath the House The door sat low to the ground beside the back steps. Most days it stayed shut, its boards dark from years of weather. In winter, it opened often. Someone lifted the latch and the door scraped softly against the dirt. Cold air rolled up the steps before anything could be seen below. A narrow set of…
An installment in our Appalachian History and Culture series. The trees were cut weeks ago and left where they fell. Oak, poplar, chestnut. Thick trunks lying crosswise in a field that needs to be planted. One man can clear brush. He can trim branches and split smaller lengths for rails. He can’t move logs that size alone….
An installment in our Blue Ridge Travel series. You’re driving the Blue Ridge Parkway, following its steady curves along the ridgeline. The road rises and falls, opening long views to either side. The rhythm is continuous. You move with it. Then the brown sign appears: Rocky Knob Recreation Area. Turn signal. Tires leave the main lane. Speed…
An installment in our Blue Ridge Travel series A gravel pull-off. A short path through weeds. The sound of water before you see it. Below the bridge, the New River slides past in a wide, steady sheet. A kayak drifts through the current. Someone beside you says, almost casually, that this is the river that runs backward….
An installment in our Appalachian History and Culture series. Imagine a winter morning in 1910. You step outside before dawn and pull the kitchen door shut behind you, listening for the latch to catch. The cold doesn’t creep in gradually. It smacks you in the face. Snow lies crusted across the yard, firm in some spots, hollow in others, and your boot finds yesterday’s path…