Twists and Turns

What unfolded in two, and in 86 years

Burial Beer Forestry Camp Taproom in Asheville, NC

I got done with work early last Tuesday, so The Boyfriend and I headed to a local craft brewery, Burial Beer Forestry Camp, for some twilight libations. It was too chilly outside for me to consider anything frosty, so I chose an Australian Montepulciano — a Pinot Noir-ish red — while The Boyfriend opted for a Surf Wax IPA which apparently tasted better than its name.

Asheville is known for its vibrant craft brewery scene, but this one is my favorite. I’d first visited the location two years ago, before Burial Beer acquired it, when it was just Forestry Camp restaurant. I had come to Asheville from Los Angeles with my then-boyfriend, who had never even been to North Carolina but was considering moving with me. We ate dinner — at the table just to the left of the blue sofa in the photo above — with my cousin Sandy and her husband Richard.

I remember three things about that night. One, I was still a carnivore then, and I had the best pork chop I’d ever tasted. Two, I was trying to ignore the sinking feeling that I wanted to move to Asheville on my own. Three, I was utterly charmed by the ambience of this upscale eatery, on the site of the former New Deal Era Civilian Conservation Corps.

President Franklin D. Roosevelt established the CCC so that men who needed jobs during The Great Depression could find gainful employment on public works projects. In 1937 the government built a campus of rustic barracks that housed the men who built what is now The Blue Ridge Parkway.

The former CCC barracks, built in 1937

Some of the tools the men used to carve the parkway out of mountainside remain in the barracks cubbies, along with other belongings, such as the occasional deer antler.

The trio behind Burial Beer, transplants from the Seattle beer scene, have done a great job preserving the site’s rustic eccentricity from 86 years ago, while blending in modern elements such as art exhibits and a modern menu with vegan offerings — I sampled a mouthwateringly-good root vegetable melange — interspersed with traditional burger and fries options.

The Burial Beer insignia, above, features CCC-era tools, while artwork by Patricia Chan lines the walls

You can’t tell from these photos, but there was quite the Asheville melting-pot crowd that night: a table of 30somethings on laptops and iPhones, having a work dinner; two mooey-eyed lads who were dressed like shepherds; clusters of couples ranging from twenties to eighties, and; a young woman across from us who read a book in the dark and drank only water.

As we sat on the couch enjoying the last of our drinks, The Boyfriend and I mused about what makes this brewery different from the others in Asheville — there are nearly 60 here, and some of them are struggling. The Boyfriend suggested that this one is less touristy, and it is, although I’m not sure why, because you’d think visitors would be drawn to this place for the history alone. I think I like it because it’s off the beaten path, ramshackle and elegant at once, with sexy dim lighting and chairs nestled in crannies like almost-kept secrets.

Two years ago, while I ate my pork chops and gazed at the barracks encircling this same room, I tried to ignore a secret — that the man with whom I was planning a future was beginning to seem that he was not meant to be in my future — by folding it up and stuffing it in a pocket in my mind.

Now, two years later, it’s a relief not to have a secret like this, but to be grounded in the life that I have, and with all the people I’ve chosen to have in it.