Gay bar in huntington wv

Moonshine swillers and feuding hicks—these are the images that most people hold. Several summers ago, some friends and I walked into a Mexican restaurant in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware.

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But you have teeth! You wear shoes?! Queer folk and mountain folk have something very important in common: both are frequent objects of satire, hostility, and contempt. They are words that I may apply to myself but that outsiders had better not use to refer to me unless they want an argument. Being a member of both subcultures is often a double burden, one that many mountain people are eager to escape.

Gay culture is still primarily an urban phenomenon, while Appalachia, despite its many cities, is primarily a rural region. Making a life as a gay man or lesbian in the countryside or in a small town can be tough; not surprisingly, many young Appalachian gays and lesbians hightail it to the nearest city as soon as possible. I certainly did.

Appalachia was, at that point in my development, a place from which to flee. Misery is often the stimulus to self-awareness, and I was miserable during that long autumn in Washington. I felt like Tantalus, surrounded by inaccessible savories. On top of that, I missed the mountains and my family, and I began to realize how many of my values were thoroughly shaped by rural living and out of step with urban life.

For someone accustomed to forests, pastures, and vegetable gardens, D. In the midst of the city I came to realize that I was, inescapably, a country boy. Living in a liberal university town in the hills of southwest Virginia allowed me the best of huntington worlds.

Those who remain in the mountains often feel compelled to hide or minimize their gayness, while those who leave for the cities try to erase their accents bar assimilate into urban culture. The latter escapees face a particular difficulty. Gay hill folk are like their straight brethren: they display an inordinate affection for their native places, and they often suffer a bitter homesickness when they flee to big cities.

Rob is a good example. A bear buddy of mine who had spent all of his life in West Virginia, he recently moved to Washington for the same reasons gay I did over fifteen years ago, yearning for a rich and varied gay culture that was hard to find in the mountains. The commutes are long, the apartments small, the sound of traffic ceaseless.

I understand. As much as I love to visit D. It is a loveliness I never take for granted. Whatever the reason, these days the company of trees, creeks, and hills feels just as necessary for my spiritual health as relationships with other human beings. Many gay people continue to migrate out of Appalachia, but more and more I meet gay men and lesbians who are determined to remain in the mountains.

Harry is an example of the latter phenomenon.