Taproot Coffee

Taproot Coffee lives inside a restored school bus. That is the first thing every customer tells the next one, and there's no getting around it as the lead. You walk up the steps, order at what used to be the driver's seat area, and sit on bench seating that's been retrofitted to fit knees and elbows. A second, larger bus has been added to handle the crowds the first one couldn't fit. There are chairs outside for people who don't want to negotiate the aisle.

The coffee is real. The Americano gets singled out as one of the best some regulars have ordered anywhere, and the rotating Ethiopian single-origin runs through blueberry, vanilla, and hibiscus notes depending on the lot. A spicy mocha and an oat milk latte are on the regular rotation. The monthly coffee club ships bagged beans home, which is how a lot of Hickory customers stay connected between visits and how Taproot has built a customer base outside the immediate radius of the bus.

Baristas Isaiah, Nick, and Isaac get repeat name-drops from customers, which usually means the rotation has held together and people recognize each other across visits. There's a Pac-Man machine that one regular cited as the thing that makes the bus feel like somebody's living room rather than a cramped retail container. The vibe is groovy and a little cramped and entirely the appeal. Cozy and homey, the words people keep reaching for, are correct.

Families pull in for the novelty and stay for the Americano. Travelers detour off the highway for the photo and end up subscribing. Kids think it's a treehouse. The people who don't fit are the ones looking for a quiet laptop perch. There isn't much room for that, and a school bus is not where you go to take a Zoom call.