Durbin
A decade ago I wouldn't have expected how much time I'd end up spending in the empty middle of West Virginia, but life comes at you fast. On hindsight it was always a possibility as there's a giant telescope in the town of Green Bank, and I have a high-ranking position in the world's biggest SETI endeavor. After many visits to Green Bank Observatory, which is within the national radio quiet zone, the calm, Appalachian nowheresville vibe really grows on you. The pace of the region is lovely, given there is zero cell service, television, wifi, or radio.. A lot of the chatter of modern life is just.. gone. And it's wonderful.
I'm usually pretty busy during my work trips, but the off hours contain old school fun. There's a lot to do when you don't have the gravitational pull of constant internet connectivity: Bluegrass jams, bonfires, road bowling, ramp hunting, trivial pursuit, cornhole, shooting range.
The food isn't so great though. Options are quite limited. I'm okay with it, though. When in Rome, and all that. Plus I'm firmly aware how spoiled I am in California. Outside of the cafeteria and gift shop on the Observatory campus there's not much prepared food in the town of Green Bank itself. They make pizzas at the gas station. And they make burgers in another gas station up the road. That's about it. These scant culinary choices live up to one's expectations, and thus perfectly fine.
But still, once in a while you want to go to an actual restaurant. There's one in Big Spring about 30 minutes west. They have the healthiest menu anywhere in the area, plus a tiny stage where I've witnessed an open mike jam or two. But I've also gone up to the town of Durbin, population 300, about 20 minutes north. There you'll find Al's Upper Inn Club. They offer basic bar food - though perhaps slightly better if only because they are willing to fry up other vegetables besides potatoes.
Last time at Al's I went with two workmates and we sat at a table nerding out about our project. The waiter dude took our beer/burger order. He returned with our drinks and asked, "Where you guys from?"
His tone seemed a little odd. As if he knew we weren't from around these parts, and this might be an issue. We said in unison, "California," and it looked like his heart skipped a beat. He pressed further, "What part?"
I answered first, saying, "Oakland." The dude rolled his eyes in wonderment and then admitted, "So am I."
He went on to explain the gal working the bar spotted us earlier and told him, "I bet you a million dollars those guys are from California." He took her up on this hyperbolic wager, and was not only shocked she was right, but also that I currently reside in his home town.
Turns out we actually met the gal last time we were at Al's a year earlier. Back then we closed the bar down and while chatting it up we discovered she was from the Bay Area as well. So she vaguely remembered us from that visit, hence the extra confidence when placing that aforementioned bet with the waiter.
We ended up closing the bar down once again, hanging out with the gal and the dude, who were a couple. We exchanged war stories about various Bay Area hotspots which they missed, and what's changed since they left some years ago. They moved to Durbin as life was so much easier and cheaper, whereas we just keep passing through to get some burgers while in the area. Small world.