Colorado

November 25, 2009

Beer tourism and beer research are hampered by two year olds. Even when your two year old is wonderful to travel with, will gladly sit in a brewery and watch you drink, and enjoys any adventure that involves watching TV at the hotel, there is only so much a two year old can endure in one day. A visit to one brewery is possible. A visit to one major beer spot is possible. Two is pushing it. Three is impossible. The formula is accordingly: There are many places we could have visited. But only a few we were able to visit.

Our trip to Colorado followed suite. In Denver, we visited Falling Rock, Great Divide and Wynkoop over two days. In Boulder, we visited Avery. In Fort Collins, we made the trek to New Belgium. The massive size of New Belgium dwarfed the tiny brewing and bottling space at Avery. The tiny tap room at Great Divide masked what I expected from a brewery that seems to stand for the large and hyperbolic (how many ways can one brew Yeti anyway?). The Toronado feel of Falling Rock (bottles along the walls, secret bottle menu you need to ask for, outstanding taps, tattooed and hurried wait staff)  hid the fact that out of all the brewpub/bar food I have had, this bar defied expectation and served good food. Wynkoop served the expectation of the brewpub: wooden interior, glossy matte menu, Office Space style waitress (“Would you like some pizza shooters to start off with?”), and beer that borders on the exceptional (Mile H.I.P.A.) and beer that is as mediocre as most brewpubs can be (the rest of the menu).

The most difficult thing about beer tourism, though, is not a two year old companion (“Do we have enough crayons or Little People to keep her busy while daddy drinks?”). Instead it is eating. I feel obligated to try every brewpub’s take on the bar food stable: Burger and fries. I want to know how well each place can do this standard food.  The variety, of course, is limited. Grill. Fryer. Meat. Potatoes. Expectation exceeds the variables. After awhile, one feels weighed down by so much red meat: lamb burgers, beef burgers, buffalo burgers, etc. I swear to myself that on the upcoming trip to California, I will do more vegetarian.

Falling Rock. Beer paraphernalia. Beer expectation. Racer X on tap. Finally! the beer drinker declares, though I didn’t see it until after I had enjoyed a Blind Pig. My eye sight was blinded by the feeling of arriving. I’m here. I’m here. What to have? What can I have? Excitement limits vision – for a moment.

the kid’s cup:

Great Divide.  A tiny bar space with more space along the window. I wandered into the upstairs office space thinking there were actual tables up above. After ordering two Hibernations (nothing special on tap), I asked if the Barrel Aged was still on sale. It was. We bought a bottle and drank it later in the room.

New Belgium. Wild Ale (spicy and brett). Tom’s Ale (sour and wheat). Our tour guide was proud of his 20 year old bike – that the brewery didn’t give him.

The brewery loves beer art.

Our girl lined up for the tour.

Samples at every stop.

The sweet smell of wort filled the room. Rarely, on a tour, have I seen the beer in the process of being made. Vessels are usually empty. Heat and sweetness filled the air as a boil continued below. Like at Boulevard, a mosaic surrounded each tank.

Shopping at Bottles. We drank in our hotel when our girl went to sleep. The Residence Inn is a wonder when the prices fall on weekends. Business travelers go home. We, the tourists, come in. Extra space. A fridge. Two TVs.  Lots of phones for a two year old to play with.

I’m missing a picture of the Hazed and Infused bomber. The batteries on the camera died just before I took the last picture of the trip.

Avery. A dry hopped IPA was the only special beer on the menu that day. Families made their way in on a Sunday afternoon. Besides red meat, the other bar/brewpub danger: no food at all. At least not on Sunday.

While we drink, my wife feels for my beer needs and urges me to find someone to go to GABF with next year. “Do it,” she says. “You need to go.”

Wynkoop. The art of the brewpub is the ubiquitous sampler. Wooden benches and the feel of the “English pub” is a close runner up. There must be a template brewpubs use. They fill in the details later, after they have purchased enough wood.

Posted in Colorado, beer