Hello friends! A draft of this has been in an open tab while working out of three different Collectivo locations in Milwaukee and Madison, Hexe Coffee and Cafe Mustache in Chicago, Wildflyer Coffee in Minneapolis, and the Paramount Cafe in Cheyenne. Today, I’m finishing it up just outside of Portland, Oregon.
If you’re new to my newsletter, I am a digital nomad with a remote job, taking care of cats where I go, and eating the world’s best pizza. Here’s where I’ve been and where you can find me!
Schedule
Apr 12–May 22: Scottsville, VA – Phinny, Tony, Greyson, Gertrude, and Elliott
May 29–Jul 06: College Park, MD – Lucy and Oscar
Jul 08–Aug 02: Brown Deer, WI – Karim
Aug 02–Aug 13: Chicago, IL – Goldie and Olive
Aug 13–Aug 18: Minneapolis, MN – Bartlett, Flynn, and Provenza
Aug 26–Sep 02: Fort Collins, CO – Mazie
Sep 07–Sep 11: Woodinville, WA – Aspen and Loki
Sep 11–Oct 21: Vancouver, WA – Cashew and Zoom
Oct 22–Nov 04: San Francisco, CA – Boo and Ollie
Nov 11–Nov 30: Bend, OR – Mo and Finley
Dec 01–Dec 06: Hood River, OR – Strava
Mid-December: Isanti, MN – Butterscotch and Mabel
If you’re in the Bay Area, or if we haven’t connected yet in the Pacific Northwest, please reach out!
Scottsville, Virginia
An opportunity turned up to care for a home and some cats in Scottsville, a town I had never heard of south of Charlottesville.
I generally stay in places where there is a lot to do and explore, or where I know people. However, Scottsville has a population around 550, just one small café, only a few options for food, and a small brewery. Everything outside of town is a good drive. For someone who normally stays in cities or nearby suburbs, Scottsville is not my typical stay.
However, I had a very enjoyable interview with the hosts, and the timing was great for my schedule. Even though it was five cats, I decided to give Scottsville a shot!
Scottsville is a town on the James River, and once a major port and county seat. To summarize a couple hundred years of history: county boundaries were revised, Charlottesville a half hour north became the county seat, the railroad came through, the civil war brought destruction to much of the port infrastructure, and flooding changed the built environment. Trains no longer stop. A lot of the jobs in the town from decades ago are no longer there. Today, Scottsville, like many small towns in Virginia and across the U.S., struggles to keep its vitality.
Some neighboring towns are effectively dead with boarded up buildings with perhaps a church, a gas station, and a discount store. Some worry that without some changes, Scottsville could eventually face a similar fate.
Before I arrived, one of the biggest discussions was a proposed conversion of an old tire factory building into apartments. It’s located within a short walk from the main part of town and even closer to the river, so it could be very attractive housing. The arguments for and against this proposal mirrored housing discussions I’ve heard ad nauseam in densely populated areas: more neighbors bring more tax revenue and support local business while bringing new ideas and fresh energy; but more neighbors may be a strain on infrastructure, cause more traffic, noise, crime, a handful of other arguments that boil down to a fear of having more people around. The proposed zoning change to allow those apartments ultimately failed, narrowly.
This discussion on the direction of Scottsville’s future came up repeatedly, and for me, it was most often at the tiny bar at the James River Brewery. This region of Virginia is known for a wide variety of destination wineries and breweries, and Scottsville is lucky to have one of them. While the brewery has a good share of tourists, it is also a default home bar to many locals and one of the few actual places to gather in the evening. It was easy to figure out who is local and who is visiting based on the shape of their drinking vessel: visitors are served with generic pint glasses, but the regulars have 0.5 liter steins with handles. I inquired how to get in this “Mug Club”: $60 for the calendar year, but you get a buck off every drink (and $2 off on a specific weekday) in your nominally larger stein. It’s limited to just under 200 members due to availability. The mugs are numbered and stored behind the bar, but you can decorate them as you please with stickers. I was only going to be in Scottsville for a month or so but while I was drinking a pint, I figured I could make the math work out, so I got one of the few available.
That mug, #154, became my key to the town.
When someone else with a mug saw me with my mug, I was approached as someone they should know. Showing some commitment to a local institution separated me from people just passing through. Within a couple weeks, I felt fairly attuned to a lot more of the goings on in the town, and even a taste for some drama. I started getting invited to join my new, albeit temporary, neighbors on adventures outside of the brewery, such as events at other wineries and breweries, campfire gatherings, and even an impromptu night swim in the river. I also got a lot of great local intelligence on places to explore regionally. Eventually, when I’d walk down Valley Street through the center of town, some people would recognize me, wave, and greet me by name.
I can’t think of anywhere else I’ve ever lived where I felt part of a community so quickly. It felt jarring at first, but quite comforting to have just a taste of being part of small community.
On my last full day in Scottsville, I joined a few friends for “Music Bingo” at a winery near Charlottesville, and we came back for a couple more drinks at the brewery. Everyone there knew it was my last day, so it was a de facto going away toast for me. Goodbyes were paired with contact information being exchanged, and the discussion was about when, not if, I was coming back to Scottsville. This was wrapped with a few offers of places to stay for when I return. The night ended at the nearby campground with a ride around the grounds in a golf cart with cheap beer, followed by a campfire while watching the sunset.
In all of the places I’ve stayed recently, Scottsville has certainly been the most welcoming. And yes, I’ll be going back, at some point.
(I also had enough beer for that month and half, so I have quit drinking for the rest of the year!)
Five (then Six) Cats
Oh yeah, I did say there were five cats. Actually six by the end…
Most of them were outdoor cats. Phinny (aka Sarah), the smallest of the bunch, was one who was allowed to come in at nights. At least, she was supposed to, and I found myself calling for her most evenings. She also wins the award for being the cutest, and would prance and bounce around like a young doe.
The other cats spent most of the days and nights outside.
Gertrude would come by for food. Then go to the other houses around for more.
Varmin, or Tony, used to live with the host family at a different house, and then this orange ran away and never came back. Time passed, the host family moved, and somehow, Tony showed up again, but at the new place!
Greyson was the elder cat, who overcame issues with a wound on his abdomen and a loose tooth during my time with him. Almost deaf and almost blind, and then one fewer tooth (but a healed tummy), Greyson was regularly game for pats (and more food).
Elliott, or Mr. L, LL Bean, Mr. Bean, or just “Bean” or a few more names I forgot, had a regular food route between me and one of the neighbors, and was regularly monitoring the other neighboring property.
With some changing travel plans with the hosts where I was caring for these cats, I was invited to stay longer, and I was very happy to. Included in this extension was a special delivery of another cat, named Traveler. In short, a relative of one of the hosts was in the process of moving back to France, but at the time lived in Phoenix. That relative flew out with Traveler so Traveler could join the cat gang in Scottsville instead of the complications of moving him to France. I got to help socialize Traveler, but honestly he was one of the easiest cats to work with. A real buddy.
Pizza Bones, Richmond, Virginia
I had a lot of pizza in Virginia and North Carolina during my stay in Scottsville, and my favorite, by far, was Pizza Bones in Richmond.
It’s aptly named, as the “bones” of the pie are stellar. The crust is hard and firm with a chewy core, yet crackle when bent without falling apart. The slices are thin as a Midwest tavern-style pizza but in a Neapolitan shape and texture. The bases of the slices are soft, but they somehow don’t droop (mostly) when held. The dough certainly had time to ferment: it was a bit like sourdough, slightly acidic, with a note of salt.
The cheese and sauce fuse with the crust to where it’s indistinguishable where one part ends and the other begins. The orangish color and oily texture may have the appearance of cheapness, but the flavor of the mozzarella is milky and a bit tart, and the sauce has a slight sweetness while almost being meaty.
The menu is simple: cheese, pepperoni, or special. All are 14 inches. Perhaps, the acute focus on the basics is part of why these pizzas are flirting with perfection. Certainly the best cheese pizza I’ve had in Virginia.
I believe this is Ashley Patino’s first restaurant in Richmond, and by the taste of this, she is certainly a rising star. I liked it better than Pupatella, which used to be my favorite pizza in Virginia. It’s at my top of my list to revisit the next time I’m in Richmond.
Postscript
Recently, a friend from Scottsville texted me this photo:
Apparently this kitten had been just found and adopted by said friend. “She's really sweet,” and “that's the big news around town.” I think I’m being lured to come back!
Keep in touch! I’m on Signal and Discord constantly. I’m even posting on my Instagram Stories again. Or shoot me an email and let me know how you’re doing! I’d love to hear from you.
-Aaron