The blue god lives

A wise man once said, "Let's get right to the heart of this thing." The only clear mission in an excursion such as this, is to blast through as much pavement, brick and keg line as you can endure!  To the stout of heart go the spoils of brewery tourism. 


We took the high road one afternoon by going the out of town way...A sudden Dachau on the prairie's edge.  But little did they know, we had Barret's own privateers in the wagon and a crossbar Marx to guide us.  The quest took its first coffin nail at the crowbar, allowing for inscriptions on our black tomes with dark speech.

Our intent was clear from the get-go, lay the hogs on the blacktop and spin toward pandemonium.  It took a day atleast to get out of the wagon and onto the saddle before our designated nighttime sendoff station became second nature.        



The only secured contacts we'd established before takeoff took some greasing before we could speak a shared tongue. Rapping specs and quaffing thimblefuls. We found the old boys in town to be the fathers of a better time and a better ceremony.  Stinking of citrus and grass and brimming with futures bigger than our prestige, we decided to ride the wet whistle express down the drag until faces and spaces and solar places played games on the backdrop till curtain call. 

Taking in what we could gather each daybreak, we lived nomadic on a trail of snakes, hot jazz and black curbside peril.  The blue god had beckoned us since first we angled downhill from the muddy waters of the Assiniboine.  Winding and winding, frenzied by the possibility of beginning anew, we posted all points north and sailed the yellow-blazed byway.  Lucid stories of night terror and bookshelf gargoyles came second nature or the nature of our existence, decidedly we promised to smother the other if expressions became a science.  Reaching the blue god meant feeling it, weighing how our bodies would contort on its tiled face.                

The blue god had seen itself through crevices and craters uninhabited for an epoch.  What the flying dragons couldn't teach, we learned in the rocks which jutted under hand and secured to foot.  Our boats still made sail, the crew still jilted astern, the sails still flapped in the angry screeches of emergency to take hold of a voyage all its own.   


Making landfall on the back of a leviathan is like describing an oasis, its beauty is as palpable as imagination.  We took refuge in one, two, three galleys of measurable difference only to post up at the last show in ghost harbor.  After wearing the day thin with sand, settlement, and circulation we answered with certainty to the beckoning of something more momentary than home.
             

Before the quest would end, we knew the bruise would burst.  Spilling into the night, the hopes and the dreams of lesser men made paving stones for our banner charge.  Joints and gears, sinew and rubber, tendons and cable, what came undone would fall into rank and forge anew.  With this and that we left the east and began the rest.  Never has the morning smelled so sweet, nigh has the sun blazed so proud, long has the promise of perfect provisions lay just on the horizon.  Goodbye my home, goodbye my land, hello to lady luck with whom we now stand.

Sleeping Giant Brewing Co.

The good people at Sleeping Giant Brewing Co. in Thunderbay, Ontario were awesomely kind enough to let me get a behind the scenes look at what they had cookin only a week after a grand opening this past summer.  Becoming Thunderbay's first micro-brewery, they have lots of hoops to jump through with provincial regulation and general market adaptation in a place that sells case upon case upon case of something called Laker Lager (of "Mak'er a laker, eh!" fame).

 Their setup so far includes all the necessaries to produce three different brews, and what I'm seeing now on their website is a new Skullrock Stout which sounds pretty fantastic.  I sampled all three of their offerings and was pleased with each one.  They have a standard setup in a factory style building with the taproom in the front and the shop in the back.  Output so far is only in growler and keg sales.  As far as the cost for bottling and restrictions on sale in LCBO's, it sounds like the trend for alot of upstart breweries.   

Brewmaster Kyle showed me around the place and talked about all the potential for expansion they have in the building.  All depends on what the response is.  It's those frantic times and thoughts that give me nightmares when it comes to making the transition from wizened peon to full brew master. Getting to see him do some of the sugar refraction and talking about yeast made it all seem so feasible, but this is the dream after all.  I walked out with a growler of the Belgian style ale which was their rotating seasonal.

Here's to hoping they succeed in finding that demographic of beer drinkers who want something different.  I think the proximity to Duluth, which has an ungodly proportion of fantastic beer per capita should make this transition a bit easier than expected.
Thanks SGBC!

East Coast Exploits

Navigating the Colonial

On a trip to the Eastern states of Connecticut and Massachusetts, I got to sample some of the tricorne hat flavor and the atmosphere of cobbled stone and colonial foot paths.  Thankfully all of these things led towards breweries, or were somehow steeped in a tradition relating to the mercantile congregation of beer exchange.

The history of American colonialism is also a history of beer.  As originating in England, the colonial brewing tradition which began in the home and eventually formed into the manufactory remained a mainstay of beer production throughout the 17th 18th and 19th centuries in this part of the continent.

As the Boston Beer Company demonstrates through its Samuel Adams flagship, "patriots" as mythologized men brand the landscape.  Granted, historicizing anything is a far more important endeavor than marketing bad beer, but I wont go so far as to say that these hero drapped beers are far off from the stars and stripes budweiser cans.  Out there, history means something, but that history has more of a locale than anything else: "Here is where Paul Revere lived, and thats why america."  My brief foray unfortunately hadn't brought me to the true radical brew that represented the truly radical characters they were purported to be.

Nathan Hale breweriana

The tavern known as the Green Dragon is one of these purported historical places where the revolutionaries would meet and drink and plot.  It had a colonial atmosphere and an ok tap selection.  If that city didn't have Harpoon brewery though, Sam Adams would engulf it.

 As for the mainstay drinking culture, such as this historic ball park, they served the standard fare of budmillcoors and boston lager.  The only thing that caught my eye was Narragansett, which is still fizzy yellow liquid but I hadn't had it before.  Plus, at 6 bucks a pop, that's not gonna play.  Luckily there is a massive brew pub across the street from Fenway called Beerworks, which was pretty good.  Not to mention the inherently abundant access to beer surrounding the park at all points.  

This is what happens when the only liquor store that is supposed to carry the legendary Saison du Buff is closed and I can see it through the window.  Pretty pouty, but I really dont think I could have added a 9th cork and cage Saison to my pack for the flight home.

By far the best beer coming out of Boston is the Harpoon Brewery.  Deadly deadly awesome beers.  A pal and I wiggled our way into a tasting on a Sunday afternoon, which is free and you get about an hour to put back what you can.  The Red Square was the best red bitter I have ever had, packing somewhere at the 8% volume range.   Super friendly and knowledgeable staff.  We also met one of the cool guys at the tasting who wasn't pure chach, who just so happened to have done a chemistry internship at Victory Brewing out of PA.  What a gig! So we talked about gravities and flocculation for much longer than most would care to witness.

In the end, there is much more to explore and Boston being in the middle of a lot of interstate traffic, I expect great things to come down that storied Mass Turnpike.

Manitoba

Over the last two months I have been working on a writing project that has brought me to places I have never been before. Unpacking the historical landscape of this city and finding remnants of its past is very much like an Indiana Jones enterprise, without the inherent colonial tomb stealing.
Im pretty stoked on these tasting glasses from now defunct Manitoba breweries. You may call me out as a hoarder/collector of things I don't need, but honestly I have been buying these with the flights in mind. My plan is to build flight decks for sets of 4. These flight decks will be in the shape of swords, I hope.

Black Galaxy

Gentlemen, frankly I am amazed we made it to the brewery on time for the Saturday morning release. And I don't think its because we took it easy during our respective Friday nights either. A testament to our will for one-off releases.

So here's the lineup, even before the door opened, to score Half Pints Black Galaxy Cascadian Dark Ale. A great batch that has somehow managed to stay around the apt. longer than two weeks. We got our limit, but there definitely were a handful of those who did not (gauging by first hand account and the unpopulated review board on BeerAdvocate). Those empty handed might want to try Lethbridge though. If you missed out and would like to trade for any Gueuze I have not had before, feel free to contactme.

Minnesota, Beer, Chicago, Beer, Wisconsin, Beer

I managed to sneak away into the comforts of the Midwest United States for a few weeks recently and - with my interests shaping my route - many sites related to beer came through the truck window.

Unfortunately, i could not get into Surly for a tour. As always, they have about a 3 month waiting list but I think I can weasel in for my next trip as promised by a sympathetic ear in the head office. So my beer exploits in Minnesota remained fixed at my fathers homebrewery, the vastly expansive free market liquor stores, and as always the usual haunts that have great happy hours. A beer I have to draw attention to that I picked up on my way south from Moorehead Minnesota is called Rooster. It is brewed by a not-for-profit brewery in Hendricks, Minnesota. When you buy a 24 they donate 3x the cost to fund conservation and land management initiatives for critical habits in Minnesota. God I love that state. The majority of my time was spent bulking up my beeradvocate cred and waiting out the rain.

(Misato refusing to recognize my existence, dad in the brewery gettin his bottling on, and obvs.)
My trip down to Chicago was fantastic. Drove through snow covered rolling hills, deep into the Mississippi River Valley where the cliffs rise as abruptly as the mighty miss herself. Stayed with my sisters and hit up as many breweries/brewpubs as we could. Starting with Metropolitan Brewery which was just a few buses away from their place. Metropolitan is pretty freakin cool, particularly in the small shop of 3 employees who basically do it all (they wanted volunteers, and I wanted to be). Also each one of their fermenters had names of obscure star trek characters! Tages and I were talking next to their 4 pronged bottling machine, just top right of that was this cool keg sculpture of a long horned bull. My only qualms was with the beer itself, all German Lagers, no IPA, Ever!
Just had to add in the photo of the Chicago Fire game we took in, where they actually sold Lagunitas at the stands! Craft Brewery at a soccer game! fantastic. And yet the whole city seemed to be smattered with these trite adverts for Miller lite. The traveling fan from Houston clearly chose too much taste and vomited all over the away section, after the fight, and just before his own friends were taking photos 'around the drunk guy' for facebook.

Next was the Haymarket Brewpub. By far the best selection of micro-brews I have had, period. Haymarket famously named after the Haymarket bombing of 1886. The scene there was a bit bourgeois for a bit of proper anarchist history, but ill try and remind myself that the brewers are the ones who make the beer, the managers sell the space. This first picture below is of all their samplers we went through. Their menu of their own beers was a full page, they had 3x that of other craft beers on the back. Even had a section on their menu called "Shit Beer" with your budmillcoors. Number one for me was the Mother Jones Belgian Dubbel, Followed by the Mathias IPA and Speakerswagon Pilsner. Of course we made our way earlier in the day to the Haymarket Memorial, and came upon mutha f**kin Emma Goldman!

After a great time steeping in Chicago culture, I made my way back slowly through Wisconsin (which holds a piece of my heart) so I could hit a few of their growing craft breweries. Sadly the cooperage at left hasn't been active for over 100 years, but it was a nice stroll through an old farm with many of the original trades buildings in tact. Don't ask me where I was, i just followed the sign. New Glarus Brewing (in New Glarus Wisconsin) has an obvious path of success laid before them. Their new brewery is massive, landscaped, and full of shiny everything on the inside. I kinda liked this one more than most tours I have been on because I got to just walk around by myself with a beer in hand while workers were brewing/yeast testing/bottling etc. Very cool. Also got to buy just about every seasonal they have made in the last 2 years. The last photo is their old building, size matters there i guess.

Heading further North towards Madison I made it into Capital Brewery. Unfortunately no such luck on a tour, but I got the guy to show me around a few of their storage spaces and their kettles. I also bought several of their beers. Not a fan personally of most of what i drank, but they too almost exclusively brew the German Lagers. But it was on the map, so I had to do it. They had an awesome beer garden though in back of the place but it was raining, and i hadn't eaten and just sitting in there drinking a beer seemed not quite right. They don't need my business I have a feeling after having been brewing for almost 20 years.

On the whole, an excellent trip for personal experience and diversifying what will continue to be my beer stratum. I highly recommend a trip like this which is relatively close, and several major cities with a handful of hours between each other makes it reasonable. Go slow, take your time, and belt the radio tunes out of the window on cruise!