Rabbit Hash, Ky.

Lore has it that when the Ohio River flooded the Northern Kentucky hamlet of Carlton, rabbits scampered to higher ground for safety, straight in to the arms of hungry farmers ready to stew up some hash (rabbit hash, that is). In the 1840s, when the Carlton voting district needed a new name to avoid confusion with Carrolton, further downriver, Rabbit Hash “was a no-brainer,” in the words of area historian Don Clare.

Rabbit Hash has no fixed boundaries or municipal government. The population is a matter of opinion, and the current, unofficial mayor Junior, is a dog (as in “woof”) like the mayor before him (Goofy) who beat out several cats, goats, a donkey, and a few humans. A dollar-a-vote fundraiser for the historical society, the election aptly sums up the generosity and quirky humor that infuse Rabbit Hash. Stop by the Rabbit Hash General Store, a communal front porch since 1831, and you might hear news of a chili cook-off charity for a neighbor in need. A three-time flood survivor, the 175-year-old structure seems a fitting focal point for a place that according to owner Terrie “is like stepping back in time” a picturesque preservation of “what a 1920s river town used to be.”

Passers-through can hunt for more treasure’s of Rabbit Hash past and present at the Rabbit Hash Museum, the Kentucky Huckster (Appalachian crafts) or in the general store’s wonder of wares from blackberry jam and pull candy to hand-made soaps and souvenirs.

Hot Coffee, Miss.

Where charming cafes line the streets—no chains—and the rich, scent of espresso perfumes the air…

Not so far-fetched a fantasy in view of the village’s roasted-bean beginnings.

In the late 1880s, at the crossroads of Hot Coffee Road and Mount Olive, L.N. Davis opened an inn and hung a coffee-pot shaped sign outside that read “Hot Coffee.” Farmers heading to and from Ellisville marked their progress by the distance to the familiar stop, “a few more miles to Hot Coffee.” By the 1920s “Hot Coffee” appeared on road signs.

Nowadays, the only hot coffee for sale in Hot Coffee pours from the self-serve pot at McDonald’s general store, built in the 1930s on the locale where Davis’s inn once stood.

Outsiders who’d like to sample Hot Coffee’s brew (figuratively or from the pot) will find it plain perhaps, but brimming with country flavor. Log-cabin history and curios collide at Mitchell Farms. The Diehls, the artists behind the hand-hewn creations at Roger’s Basketry belong to the Old Order of German Baptists (similar to the Amish) welcome conversation from curious customers. McDonald’s sells a cornucopia of goods from shoes, to hand-dipped ice cream and hoop cheese.

Slapout, OK

In the panhandle of Oklahoma, somewhere between Woodward and Guymon, a 150-mile lonely stretch, sits a small convenience store and gasoline station. Lore has it that when the hardy souls who lived in this sparsely populated area came into the store for supplies, the storekeeper's favorite reply was, "I'm slap out!" The name stuck and the lonely little post is still called "Slapout".