It isn’t in Texas and it isn’t a tavern. It’s a family-owned, all-night burger joint that’s been around since 1930. And it’s awesome.
That shot of Church Street is awful. But I’m including it anyway, because New Yorkers simply cannot fathom how empty these streets can be — and quiet! So often Roanoke seems like a scene in “The Quiet Earth” (1985).
So this was Thursday’s bizarre, abrupt twilight snowstorm. Look how beautiful and blue the sky was before snow and night fell together. Look at the size of the flakes!
March 2018. One of the things that I love about Roanoke is how its mountains are obscured on overcast days by low-lying clouds. It’s the kind of thing that would have been unheard of where I grew up — on the uniformly flat Long Island. I doubt the novelty of it will ever fully erode.
These are from the winter’s first snow on Wednesday. I believe those tracks you see were made by a raccoon.
The past week’s cold facilitated a rare occurrence — the freezing of the Cowpasture River in Iron Gate. My friend posted these yesterday.
I think that second shot is really damned cool. I believe that’s the spot where the protruding rocks make the mini-rapids that they call “riffles.”