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Monthly Archives: January 2026

Trackside Coffee, Hazelton PA

Happy New Year!

Normal is hard after the holidays. From the Solstice and Christmas Eve to the Monday after the weekend after New Year’s Day, the holiday season is a time out of time. It’s liminal. The week after, the adjustment to “normal life” was a challenge. After the next week began with the same inertia, I realized it was time to get back on the road. Time to head up to Wilkes-Barre.

Funny thing about the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton area: There are a lot of interesting stops on the way. Northeast PA (NEPA) covers a lot of territory. One of the southernmost towns is the sprawling Hazleton. Called The Mountain City, Hazleton fills a valley between ridgelines. My ears were popping as I headed up the long stretch of Route 81 that skirts the edge of downtown Hazleton.

Interestingly enough, it resembles a larger version of the coal country villages we’ve seen before. It reminded me of a mega-Pottsville. Hazleton truly felt like a small town writ large, in attitude and in scope. In scope, the town has a bounded feel, unsurprising as it’s surrounded by wilderness. Hazleton also gives industrial vibes, with factories and businesses just outside the city limits. About 30,000 people nestle into the compact city. In mentality, you get the feeling that everyone knows each other. When people are pulled out of anonymity, it paradoxically causes them to open up. Humans get kinder.

That neighborhood misericordia was on display at Trackside Coffee.

First, let’s clear up some confusion. When I read the phrase “Trackside Coffee” on my map, I automatically wondered whether it was part of a car racing setup or a horse track. It was neither. But if you come from a place like I do with a “gaming” culture, the only tracks are the kind you speed around atop an object or creature. Here, it referred to the train tracks you’ll see below. Railroads were critical in the coal-cracking days of eastern Pennsylvania, and these mountains are still replete with them.

Much like a train station, Trackside Coffee is a crossing of paths. The shop was busy, but everyone was friends (or at least acquaintances) with someone else. Reviews for Trackside used words like “adorable,” but they didn’t even do justice to the coziness of this little cafe. It is little, indeed. From the outside, it looked tiny and spare. Inside, the words changed to “snug” and “sheltered.” The ambience was so restful that I forgot my mission, neglecting to ask the standard questions about when the shop was founded or what events were held.

Another interesting aspect of Trackside that jibes with the community feel: It’s only one part of a complex that includes a laundromat and a salon. It’s all the same place, and people are invited to sit in the coffee shop while they wait for their clothes to be done. As you can see below, the coffeehouse looks nothing like the laundromat (which you can see peeking through the interior windows).

What of the coffee? Oh, that was interesting. I got two shocks to the system. Number one: The bags looked nondescript, so I thought it was probably mass-market diner coffee. Number two: They only had espresso-based fare, and Americanos can be weak if done wrong. I was the wrong one, on both counts. The coffee was actually their own roast. Yet another local, independent roaster has flown under my radar. It was also good. Dang good. The Americano wasn’t watered down at all. No bitterness. Instead, it had unexpected notes of butterscotch, as well as almond or hazelnut. This was a Honduran coffee, so you’d expect a rich nuttiness, but not in something like this. Stunning..

Did I mention the baristas were cool? I didn’t want to say “nice,” though they were, because it wasn’t the performative nice-nice you get in the service industry. This didn’t feel like an industry, and they didn’t feel like performers. Everyone felt so human. So too were the husband and wife who had journeyed north from nearby Tamaqua and saw fit to regale me with coffee suggestions and ask details about my travels. I even got a guided tour of the salon.

As much as the coffeehouse is an urban, philosophical institution, on a more fundamental level, the philosophical musings and cosmopolitan life are products of human commiseration. When a cafe succeeds at being that, it fuels the higher endeavor of connection on every level. It’s the foundation on which the rest rests.

Oh, I got a repeat business card. What do you call those? Rewards card? Anyway, when I come back through, I’ll be sure to stop by, though I’m not certain when that will be. After all, I still want to head north to Wilkes-Barre itself and then the Poconos. We’ll see if larger Wilkes-Barre feels anything like Hazleton.

Until next time, stay caffeinated!