Monthly Archives: April 2026

Two C’s. Two N’s. Two L’s. It’s hard enough to spell McConnellsburg. It’s even harder to get there, but I did exactly that on a cold April morning.

I took this trip right before the big heat wave hit Pennsylvania. As I type this, another freeze has replaced the heat. Neither will keep me from drinking coffee or going on a road trip, especially when it’s to a place I’ve long wanted to visit. I’ve had McConnellsburg on my mind for a while. It’s the county seat of Fulton County, PA. If you haven’t heard of it, I’m not surprised. It’s the fourth least populous county in the state. Known largely for its agriculture, Fulton County sits at the bottom of the state, surrounded by trees and mountains. It’s also filled with surprises.

The McConnellsburg Historic District was recognized in 1993 on the National Register of Historic Places. For a town of less than 1,200 people, that’s impressive. A staggering 144 structures make up the district, including Fulton House, a stone tavern constructed in 1793, and the log home of Daniel McConnell, built in 1760. There’s also a slew of Civil War markers and war memorial plaques, especially near the surprisingly large Fulton County Courthouse (which also sports a bandshell).

The ride into McConnelsburg was harrowing. You either have to take the Turnpike or head west from Chambersburg. Either way, you’re headed over the mountains and into an isolated valley, through either Cowans Gap State Park or past Tuscarora Summit. I would not want to drive through the latter in winter. Grades aren’t too steep, but the road is winding, and if you make the wrong move, the fall is, well, precipitous.

Amazingly, there wasn’t just one good coffeehouse here. There were two. The second deserves its own post, so hold yer horses, Pilgrims.

Only one showed up on Google Maps. It was The Daily Drip. From the name, I expected at least an approximation of bougie. I mean, it sounds a little hipstery, right? Wrong. The Daily Drip is high quality, but all business. It’s a drive-through coffeehouse. In operation since 2022 (please correct me if I’m wrong!), this location was at one time attached to Sister Suds, a local liquor shop, before moving to its current spot. It’s clearly a community staple; there was a line in the afternoon. There’s also a second location in Chambersburg, and Daily Drip was voted best coffeehouse in the Tri-State Area (I’m still trying to figure out which three states those are) in 2024 and 2025. It’s quietly a big deal here.

I didn’t know what to expect from the coffee. Naturally, the coffee wasn’t what I expected. I’ve no idea from where they source their coffee (they obviously have it roasted for them in specialty orders), and didn’t have time to ask because I was holding up the line, but now I want to know. It was smooth and leguminous from the outset. An almost peanutty taste and mouthfeel dominated, and although it was a lighter blend, there was nary a whiff of the astringency I expected. A really solid offering.

The only sad part was…no coffeehouse. At least, there was nowhere here to sit down, though I can see why nobody minds the lack. McConnellsburg is a crossroads for people heading through the mountainous south. Resorts abound in the Laurel Highlands far to the west, while farmers work fingers to bones in the fields between the ridgelines. Nature can be rough in Appalachia, especially when the seasons are confused in a Pennsylvania April. Hence, the need for coffee and for little towns like this to be centers of industry and community.

I’ll show two photos of the coffeehouse below. The rest will be of my walk around town. You might have noticed, I’ve started linking to sites of interest. I don’t think it detracts too much from the travelogue format and word flow. If it does, let me know. In another week or so (to let the post work its way through the algorithm), I’ll post the rest of this leg of the Journey. Until then, stay caffeinated!

the looming mountains…

the roadside history…

the welcoming sight…

the coffee shop…

the downtown street…

the cabin…

the courthouse…

the fulton house…

the story…

the history in paint…

It wasn’t just that there were two coffeehouses side by side. There were two magic-loving coffeehouses side by side.

After leaving the last coffee spot, I now had three beverages in my hands. One was my coffee from King Coal. Another, my hot chocolate from the same place. The third was, of course, the coffee I’d just bought at the wizardly place. That’s too many coffees and too few hands. I quickly chugged the cocoa, took two last, lingering sips of the coffee, and chucked the three cups into the nearest public trash can (of which there are many). Seriously, this town has Disney-level tourist infrastructure, down to a row of blue port-a-potties abutting one nearby alleyway. With only my backpack weighing me down, I began the long trek…next door.

As I said, two coffeehouses share the same half-block of space. I walked down a liminal alleyway between the two, and the preternatural appearance was prophetic: Curiosities Coffee and Ice House also has a magical ambience. Alright, they’re very distinct magical ambiences. The last was more of a wizardly den, while this one was more of a…Well, I don’t want to tempt copyright laws by saying it. Imagine rabbits. White ones. Think about tumbling down a ‘hole’ of sorts into a ‘wonderous land,’ if you will. It just gave that vibe.

It was also busy. I was second in line after a large group that just happened to order each dessert item (there is a large array of these) and every triple-dipper-mocha-choke-a-latte on the menu. A line rapidly formed behind me, but the staff handled it with aplomb. They’re probably used to it by now. It wasn’t even close to dinner at that time. It was barely three in the afternoon. I can see now how two coffeehouses can coexist in the same space: There’s indeed enough business for everyone.

The coffee was, appropriately enough, from Mauch Chunk Coffee Co. The roaster has been in operation since 2013. It’s nestled in the Pocono Mountains’ foothills and seems to be something of a local institution. I got the Honduran roast. Again, clearly small-batch-style craft coffee was in evidence here. It displayed the characteristic Honduran richness with subtle cocoa hints. They were very subtle in this case, with the coffee presenting itself as a lighter breakfast blend. I feel like I’m on repeat saying that. A lot of the coffee here in Jim Thorpe leaned light. Tourists on the go don’t need (or seem to want) the veritable meal that darker evening roasts can be.

With that last coffee in hand, I made my way up famous Broadway. The name is apt. There’s a gorgeous opera house (The equally well-known Mauch Chunk Opera House) on the way up the hill. I didn’t have time to catch a show, but there is a massive lineup of music planned for the spring and summer, including a bevy of tribute bands.

I kept walking for what seemed like forever, and finally, my last goal came into view: The Old Jail Museum. Finished in 1870, the jail was Carbon County’s prison until 1995. The Old Jail is most famous for its connection to the Molly Maguires, a band of Irish advocates for miners’ rights up here in coal country. Conditions were truly horrifying in those mines. Even so, debate rages as to whether the Molly Maguires were desperate, maligned freedom fighters or violent agrarian guerrillas. The truth is often somewhere in between and buried under the stones of history. “Self-help organizations” blurred into gangs, and the “businessmen” they confronted could be little more than parasitic robber barons. History is messy because the human mind and heart are.

Speaking of history’s stones, one stone in particular stands out here. Four men were hanged at the Old Jail on June 21st, 1877, known as the “Day of the Rope.” Before being executed, one of the men put his hand on the floor of Cell #17, stating: “This handprint will remain as proof of my innocence.” The handprint remains to this day, despite constant attempts to remove it. The Jail has become a pilgrimage site for paranormal investigators. No, I didn’t take a picture of it. I didn’t want to do that just for clicks, likes, and reportage. Reverence matters.

With that in my mind, I walked back down the hill, stopping at an art gallery (pictures weren’t allowed), then got back to my parents, who were having a grand time at the station. I wanted to savor the last few minutes in Jim Thorpe after waiting all winter to come here. That said, I also wanted to get home before the mad rush hour traffic on I-81 made dinner an iffy proposition. Getting out of town was fairly easy, but don’t try to cross two lanes of traffic to get going in the right direction. Go the wrong direction, then double back. Even the wrong direction is scenic here.

With that, our exploration of Northeast Pennsylvania is at an end (for now). So, what’s next? Is the blog ending? Oh, heck no. As Marine Corps General Oliver P. Smith once said, “We are not retreating. We are advancing in another direction.” The Journey is heading to a Pennsylvania county that few people have heard of, much less visited. I’m also going to start doing some new things here. All kinds of things.

Until then, stay caffeinated!

the coffee next door…

the liminal corridor…

the blue door…

the brews…

the seating and such…

that one roast…

that other roast (my roast)…

the walk…

the opera house…

the haunted (big) house…

The grade is steep. The learning curve isn’t.

Walking from the train station towards the attractions at the top of the hill on Broadway will give you a nice little exercise. It’s not too bad, really, as long as you walk a lot regularly; it’s more brisk than anything. And there’s the view. Jim Thorpe is a beautiful town. It’s a slice of Americana, a compactification of it into a few small city blocks. Brick buildings that have clearly stood since the 1800s mingle with newer residential spaces and shops geared towards the outdoorsy travelers taking advantage of the surrounding mountains and gorges.

When I said the space was compactified, I meant it. Shops are crammed into just about every building within a quarter mile of the train station. There are little plazas accessible only through alleyways. The sheer number of tourists ensures that they’ll never run out of business. I found two coffeehouses positioned right up against each other. I’ll tackle them one at a time.

The Coffee Shop. That’s what it’s called. Unofficially/officially. You see, this coffeehouse has a very specific theme. It has a wizardly theme. That theme could have been a bit more specific, but for copyright issues. As it stands, this coffee shop is generically wizardly. That’s actually a great thing. I like generally magical things, and magic itself lacks our mundane bounds.

The interior spoke to that magical tradition. Hard, dark wood and strung lights felt like a magician’s den. One aspect felt out of place: the big screen TV on the side wall. Granted, they were showing weird, fun movies, but still, a roaring fire might have been better. I must say, it did add to the ‘living room’ feeling I got when I walked in. I could play so much Dungeons & Dragons here. The folks at the counter gave off a ‘vibe’ of being a bit esoteric. Esoteric like me. As I alluded to in the last paragraph, I’m deeply into spirituality and philosophy, so this place felt like somewhere I belong. I wanted to spend longer there, but I also wanted to head further up the hill to see the famous Mauch Chunk Opera house, among other sites.

I got the house blend here, and it was Ethiopian. It came courtesy of Greenstreet Coffee Co. of Philadelphia. Eastern PA craft coffee once again finds itself in an Eastern PA coffeehouse. Interestingly, I didn’t get much citrus flavor. Rather, there were notes of bright fruit rounding out an otherwise smooth blend. It drank like a breakfast coffee, with a swift and airy feel. I wish I could have had more than a taste, but this was the second coffee I’d bought and the fourth I’d had since Friday morning. So it’s a sip only from now on, or I’ll be running in circles all night.

After spending far too little time at this shop, I headed up the street after asking one last question: Was that other coffeehouse next door part of this project? It wasn’t. My eyes had not deceived me; two coffee shops were housed in the same little block. I’d have to get one last sip of coffee before making the long walk to the opera house.

I’m typing this on Monday, and I’m running on maybe two hours of sleep. For some reason, it’s hard for me to come down from an active weekend. I lose track of the days, counting time in miles, and my brain keeps replaying everything that happened. In a week or so, I’ll post the third installment, which will take us not only to that one last coffee shop, but to a haunting story of Pennsylvania’s past.

Until then, stay tuned.

the downtown vista…

the monument…

the vague sign…

the mystery…

the cozy living room…

the mystical view…

the mystical brew…