From the recording America, this is Appalachia Callin'
The song celebrates the stubborn independence of West Virginians who treat the mountains as both home and proving ground. It frames trail riding—on 4x4s and side-by-sides—as an act of freedom, resilience, and shared identity among veterans, miners, farmers, and kin. The message is that real liberty is earned and defended in the hollers and on the ridges, not granted by outsiders or soft times. It pushes back against flatlanders, political noise, and anything that tries to dilute mountain grit. At its core, the track is a declaration that these riders belong to the land, to each other, and to a way of life that still answers only to itself.
Lyrics
Yeah... deep in the hollers, where the mountains touch the sky...
Mountaineers, let's ride. West By God Virginia!
Crank up that four-by, mud flaps flappin' high,
Super Swampers spinnin', slingin' red clay to the sky.
Hatfield-McCoy callin', Devil Anse ridin' shotgun,
Rocks and roots and ruts, boy this trail's a loaded gun.
From the head of the holler to the mouth down by the creek,
Winch cable hummin', lockers engaged, we don't retreat.
Coal dust in my veins, American flag on the cage,
Ridge runners united, turnin' these hollers to our stage.
Engines roarin' like thunder rollin' off the Blue Ridge,
Freedom ain't free, but damn if it don't feel like this.
We're ridge runnin' rebels, side-by-side in the fight,
Four-wheelin' patriots under Almost Heaven lights!
Appalachian thunder, mud-caked and proud,
West Virginia Mountaineers, screamin' it loud!
From the hollers to the ridges, stars and bars flyin' high,
We own these mountains, wild and wonderful, till the day we die!
Gas pedal down, hearts full of fire,
This is our country, our trails, our empire!
Hey! Hey! Ridge runnin' rebels tonight!
Side-by-sides rollin' deep, full of coolers and kin,
Huntin' season comin', but today we're chasin' adrenaline.
Climbin' straight up rock gardens, tippin' on the edge,
One wrong move and you're winchin', prayin' to the Lord instead.
Veterans and miners, farmers and good ol' boys,
We bleed Mountaineer blue, makin' all that racket and noise.
No flatlanders allowed on these technical lines we run,
Just pure West Virginia grit, ain't no trail we ain't won.
Dust in the headlights, eagles soarin' overhead,
This land was made for us, blood, sweat, and tread.
We're ridge runnin' rebels, side-by-side in the fight,
Four-wheelin' patriots under Almost Heaven lights!
Appalachian thunder, mud-caked and proud,
West Virginia Mountaineers, screamin' it loud!
From the hollers to the ridges, stars and bars flyin' high,
We own these mountains, wild and wonderful, till the day we die!
Gas pedal down, hearts full of fire,
This is our country, our trails, our empire!
Hey! Hey! Ridge runnin' rebels tonight!