Four Twelve

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Four Twelve

16 Mar

If you live in Pennsylvania, when the weather gives you a chance, you take it. During a break between storms, when the wind had finally abated, I decided to head to Port Clinton, PA. Port Clinton is an Appalachian trail town in eastern Pennsylvania, about an hour from Harrisburg. However, the coffeehouse I’m reviewing today was not in Port Clinton, but in a town less than a mile away called Hamburg. Hamburg is far larger, yet it is somewhat less known among the hiking community. Thus, I first visited Hamburg before venturing into the mountain ridge where Port Clinton sits nestled.

Four Twelve sits in the very heart of Hamburg. But what, I wondered, does “Four Twelve” refer to? As it turns out, the moniker refers to Acts 4:12, a passage in the Bible. If you’re a longtime reader, you know I don’t normally review religious coffeehouses. I take the position that coffeehouses are fundamentally an Enlightenment-era institution steeped in modernity and its pursuit of ideological neutrality and the triumph of objective truth over worldview. I obviously still hold that position. Four Twelve is linked to a church, but the owners wear their faith on their sleeves far less than those managing the ostensibly secular coffeehouses I’ve recently reviewed.

Said another way, these people seem more intent on living out their faith than insisting on it. Our freedom of speech, like all freedoms, is sacrosanct not because it is unlimited, but because it bears a concurrent responsibility. Thus, a message delivered artfully and tactfully is one I can respect, even if I disagree with it. Plenty of ‘progressive’ coffeehouses cross the line from art to grandstanding. Civil and artful folk from both sides of the aisle share more in common than grandstanders on either side. The quiet faith of the baristas here illustrates this point to perfection. Oh, and the coffee’s good, too.

The coffee is also local. Passenger Coffee Roasters hails from Lancaster. That’s far enough from Bethel, but familiar to those who venture southeast of the Capital in search of a cup of coffee. They’ve only been around since the spring of 2014, but in that brief ten years, they’ve carved out major territory in the Pennsylvania coffee scene. Part of it is likely due to a vocal commitment to building partnerships and sustainable coffee storage techniques.

The barista gave me a cup of Passenger’s ‘Necessary Blend.’ ‘Necessary’ is apparently a subsidiary company of Passenger (a step that magnifies their ability to focus on specific customer bases). Was the coffee tasty? Oh, yes. Was it also a bit confusing? Also, yes. On the one hand, Necessary Blend was totally African. Conversely, it was advertised as having ‘chocolate’ and ‘brown sugar’ notes. I could taste neither of those. Instead, Necessary Blend presented itself as a classic African roast, with the citrus hints and lightness that one would expect.

It’s worth noting that the barista did a good job here. Not only did she brew me a fresh pot when they were running low, but she also managed to mitigate some of the more bracing citrus strength for which some African coffee is famous. She made it smoother than it otherwise would have been. Fun fact: Ethiopian Yirgacheffe gets its fruit-forward flavors from the dry processing techniques unique to Ethiopia. But I digress. Overall, this was a lighter offering, suitable for breakfast on the go. The residents of Hamburg often seem to be on the move.

And so, with a belly full of caffeine, I was on my way into the forested hills toward Port Clinton. On the way out, I heard a townsperson yelling at me. It turns out, I left my coffee on the roof, remaining upright as I drove down the street. I might not be too religious, but I know a miracle when I see it. It’s worth mentioning that Hamburg is a bustling town. Port Clinton is not. That surprised me. Most “trail towns” have hiker-driven amenities like outdoor supply stores.

Port Clinton seems similar to most Appalachian hollers: A winding line of houses and family restaurants, tucked between mountain ridgelines. Still, it had a bizarre appeal. Port Clinton looked like one of those abandoned towns in The Walking Dead. That’s a compliment. Looking down from a bridge into the creek that winds through the town, I caught sight of a brick building in the distance. The fog along the river created a liminal quality as if I could just keep walking forever. I like taking those ambling walks in the woods. This town looks caught between humanity and nature. That’s the kind of place my soul needs sometimes. Does yours?

The Appalachian Trail is surprisingly difficult to access in Port Clinton, requiring either a climb down a very sheer (and wet!) hillside or guessing whether (or not) the place you park is private property. There’s also the matter of the large and busy highway bisecting the trail line! After all that driving, I decided not to chance a hike. What a bummer. Had the ground not been so wet, I’d have slid down that hillside and onto the southbound trail. Next time, I’ll start somewhere else and walk into Port Clinton. Undoubtedly, the tavern along the main drag will feel very inviting afterward.

Thus ends this leg of the Journey. Hopefully, I can dodge the weather again and head north or northwest. This week’s beautiful weather should melt the last winter snow up there. Until then, stay caffeinated!