Like I said, Im not bitter. I recently hit a bit of a rough spot on the road of life. My girlfriend of many years ran off with the guy that picks up our garbage. Ironic yes? I lost my job a few months ago, it was kind of a mutual parting of ways with a bunch of drama and choice words elicited on both sides. My bank, the one that was so happy to lend me money for our new home, recently informed me that they are not willing to renegotiate the terms of my mortgage, despite the fact that “due to unforeseen market conditions”, I owe more than my home is presently worth! I had no choice but to walk away.
So with all that behind me, and some time on my hands, I decided to hit the road.
So I headed north, to Fort Collins, Colorado, where I found a great brewpub and had a great summer seasonal called “Odell St. Lupulin”. A real hophead beer if I do say so. From there it was on to Hood River, Oregon where I found myself sitting at a bar savoring a “Full Sail 21st Anniversary Doppelbock Limited Release” apparently in celebration of the breweries 21st anniversary. I met the brewmaster who warned me that consuming doppel may make you topple. I think he's right! Soon after that I had drifted to Bellaire, Michigan. I distinctly remember sitting in the saloon, slamming a “Shorts The Locals Light Beer/ Pale Lager” and although it had a crisp, clean finish, I wished for something a bit stronger. My continuing saga brought me to Conroe, Texas, and another barroom this time with a pint of “Southern Star Bombshell Blonde Ale” . A very satisfying brew indeed. At some point I ended up at the Dogfish Head Craft Brewery sipping a "120 Minute IPA", to tell the truth I dont remember much about that night. Now that is some strong stuff, but tasty. Soon thereafter I ended up in White Salmon, Washington, sipping an “Everybodys Local Logger”. When I asked the informed barkeep why there was stuff floating in my suds, he looked at me like I was a total moron and walked away muttering something about dumb tourists and unfiltered beer. Whatever. Don’t ask how I ended up in Detroit, Michigan, but I did. I walked into the bar and ordered something called “Atwater Hop-A-Peel”. Maybe it was the American Cascade, or the Chinook hops, or any of the new varieties, that somehow made me think that I should settle down and end my nomadic ways. So I headed to Yakima, Washington. If you want know exactly where, all you have to do is solve this puzzle and find me.
Cheers
Rakis2
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