It's almost surreal -- five miles down a windy, narrow, overgrown and desolate river road, you spot a sign for Heavy's Barbecue, Canoe and Camp. You turn onto a gravel road and in a couple hundred yards you see a shack adorned with the typical trappings of a barbecue hut. Can it be? It is!
You walk into a screened room with about six tables and typical decor -- antlers, taxidermy, maps, and dollar bills -- loads of dollar bills -- signed by patrons. It's a tradition started by one of the first diners and adds more quirk to a place already brimming with it. Outside the dining room is a covered porch and two uncovered porches with views down to Powell River below. The flooring is unstable. The chairs, plates, and flatware are all plastic. Plywood patches the doors and frames the bathrooms. And the owners couldn't be nicer.
The barbecue pork is cooked well -- hand-pulled and toothsome. The sauce is a sweet tomato sauce and I think it helps to be mentally prepared for the sweetness. The slaw was sweet as well. The fries were a bit flaccid, but the onion rings and fried okra were crisp, fresh and delicious.
If you happen to be driving through the Cumberland Gap, this detour is a must. It may even be worth the 50 mile trip from I-81 or I-75. Places like Heavy's -- in the absolute middle of nowhere with comforting food, beautiful views, and friendly owners -- are the essence of why we like Roadfood. We get to share in the owner's remote paradise, and enjoy some good barbecue at the same time!
"Plastic plates and ware lend to the picnic vibe. Solid barbecue with a sweet sauce."
Jim Plank
"This is from the outdoor dining area, looking towards the indoors. Particle board spells "rustic." One of the first diner's signed his dollar bill with a Sharpie, and started a tradition -- signed dollar bills are stapled throughout the indoor and outdoor area. "
Jim Plank
"A remote shack down a river road near the Cumberland Gap. This place is all ambience."
Jim Plank
"That's the Powell River. The tire swing is available to all patrons."
Jim Plank
