The Regiment · Who We Are

The Honest Grind

A small coffee company owned and run by a combat-wounded Army veteran. Six roasts, sold plainly, at one price.

Who runs this

Rail Splitter Coffee Co. is owned and operated by a combat-wounded Army veteran. That isn't a marketing badge bolted onto a white-label brand — it's who answers the email, who picks the roasts, and who packs the orders. The company is small on purpose. There is no department between you and the person responsible.

The name comes from Abraham Lincoln's 1860 campaign, when a backwoods rail splitter ran for the presidency on the idea that honest work and plain character counted for something. We took the nickname because the sentiment holds up. We did not exist in 1860, and we don't pretend to.

What we actually do

We select and sell coffee. We do not roast it ourselves — that work is done by a roasting partner, in small batches, to our specification. We think it matters that you know which is which. Plenty of brands blur that line; a company built on the word "honest" shouldn't.

What we do own is the choosing. Six roasts, each picked because it earns its place on a short list rather than padding a long one: two blends built for balance and body, three single origins with distinct character, and a decaf worth drinking. Every bag is 12 ounces, ground to order, and priced at $16 — the same price whichever one you pick, because a pricing table shouldn't be a puzzle.

How we sell it

One price, one size, three grinds. Whole bean if you have a grinder, drip if you brew in a machine or a pour-over, espresso if you pull shots. Shipping is $6 flat anywhere in the US and free over $100. A Subscribe & Save option takes 10% off and arrives monthly, and you can pause or cancel it yourself without emailing anyone for permission.

There's no loyalty tier, no members-only roast, no countdown timer. If the coffee is good you'll come back, and if it isn't, no amount of urgency on a checkout page would have fixed that.

What we don't claim

We don't claim a founding date we don't have. We don't claim to roast what we don't roast. We don't run a charitable-donation line in the marketing copy, because a claim like that should come with a named program and a number, and until it does it's just a nice-sounding sentence. If that changes, it'll say exactly what it means.