Front Porch Appalachia
The Road to Union
A Journey Through the Highlands
There are roads you travel to reach a destination.
Then there are roads that become part of who you are.
For me, this journey began before the engine ever came to life. It began with a belief that the greatest stories in Appalachia aren’t found in tourist brochures or on interstate billboards. They’re discovered along winding mountain roads where every small town has a history, every overlook has witnessed generations, and every front porch has a story waiting to be told.
My wife and I pointed east, leaving behind the familiar hills of home in search of something far more valuable than another destination. We were searching for the people and places that remind us why Appalachia still matters.
Our first stop came in Beverly at Hoots Market.
Like so many Appalachian businesses, Hoots doesn’t need bright lights or expensive advertising to draw people through its doors. It has earned its reputation the old-fashioned way—one satisfied customer at a time. Over one of the best Philly cheesesteaks I’ve ever eaten and a basket of fresh hand-cut fries, I was reminded that some of the finest meals in America aren’t found in big cities. They’re served by hardworking people who still believe quality and hospitality matter.
Leaving Beverly, the mountains began to rise around us.
Every mile carried us farther into the Allegheny Highlands, where the roads twist through some of the most breathtaking scenery anywhere in the eastern United States. Riding a motorcycle through these mountains is unlike traveling by car. You don’t simply see Appalachia—you experience it.
You smell the forests after a summer rain.
You feel the cool mountain air as elevation replaces humidity.
You watch ribbons of fog rise from the hollers like the mountains themselves are taking a slow morning breath.
It’s impossible not to slow down.
Impossible not to appreciate what surrounds you.
Eventually the road carried us to Snowshoe Mountain.
Known throughout the country for skiing, Snowshoe offers something equally remarkable during the summer months. Families wandered through the village, mountain bikers returned from the trails covered in dust and smiles, and visitors from across America stood together overlooking ridge after ridge of endless forest.
Standing there, I couldn’t help but think about the economic impact tourism can have on rural communities. Every visitor who chooses Appalachia supports local restaurants, lodging, shops, outfitters, and small businesses. Every trip creates opportunity for someone who has chosen to build a life in these mountains.
That opportunity is exactly what Front Porch Appalachia hopes to encourage.
The journey continued south through some of West Virginia’s most beautiful country before leading us to Pioneer Days.
Walking through Pioneer Days feels less like attending a festival and more like stepping backward in time. The sounds of traditional Appalachian music drift through the air. Craftsmen demonstrate skills passed from one generation to the next. Families gather beneath shade trees while children experience traditions that shaped the people of these mountains long before smartphones and social media.
There is something deeply reassuring about seeing history still being lived instead of simply remembered.
The festival isn’t about nostalgia.
It’s about preserving a way of life built on hard work, faith, family, craftsmanship, and community.
Those values remain as relevant today as they were two hundred years ago.
From there we continued toward one of West Virginia’s most significant historic places—Droop Mountain Battlefield.
History has a way of becoming personal when you stand where it actually happened.
The Battle of Droop Mountain marked one of the last major Civil War engagements in West Virginia. Standing atop the mountain, it is difficult to imagine the hardships endured by the soldiers who fought across these ridges more than 160 years ago.
The observation tower offers one of the most spectacular panoramic views anywhere in the state.
From its summit, mountains stretch endlessly toward the horizon, layered one behind another until they fade into shades of blue.
Nearby, the Almost Heaven Swing invites visitors to pause for just a few moments and simply absorb the landscape.
No photograph truly captures what it feels like to stand there.
The wind.
The silence.
The overwhelming sense of perspective.
In those moments, it becomes clear why West Virginia earned its nickname.
Some places don’t need words.
They simply remind you how small you are compared to God’s creation.
As we continued south toward Monroe County, the pace of life seemed to slow even further.
The roads narrowed.
Traffic disappeared.
Farmhouses rested quietly beneath rolling hills.
It felt like traveling through a part of America that still values conversation over convenience.
Exactly the kind of place where Front Porch Appalachia belongs.
Because while every stop along the way had offered remarkable scenery, fascinating history, and unforgettable experiences, none of them were the true destination.
The destination waited quietly in Union, West Virginia.
Behind the weathered walls of a historic hardware store where generations of neighbors have gathered, shared stories, solved problems, and quietly demonstrated everything that makes rural Appalachia worth preserving.
That place is Kittles Hardware.
And that’s where our story truly begins.
As the miles disappeared beneath my tires, one thing became clear: the greatest destinations in Appalachia are rarely found on a map. They’re found in the people who still wave from their front porches, the stories passed down through generations, and the communities that refuse to let their heritage fade.
This journey was only the beginning.
In Part Two, we’ll pull into a place where history isn’t sitting behind glass—it’s still being lived every day. We’ll step inside Kittle’s Hardware, where every creaking floorboard, every conversation, and every artifact tells the story of a way of life that built Appalachia and continues to define it.
Until then, thank you for taking this ride with me.
Pull up a chair… every porch has a story.
Wherever the road leads, I’ll meet you there.
From the Front Porch of Appalachia. I’ll see you in Part Two.The Road to Union
A Journey Through the Highlands
