At the end of the North 40 I stopped at the trail head and waited for The Wife to appear. "Wanna go again?" I asked in my best begging, but still sounding cool voice. I got the look of, well I got The Look. We were done. It was a short little double with a slight down hill all the way to the car. Coasting. What a way to top off a trip. One where I thought I would not get to ride my bike, turned out that I got in some pretty impressive riding. Got lucky, no all day in the saddle rides, but quality. Not quantity. This was the kind of trip that gets the juices flowing, but dose not drain the life out of you.
Of course standing in the parking lot of the Moab Brands trail head, we were over 1,000miles from home. Talk about a buzz kill. Back to the hotel, shower, pack, leave. Six hours in the car to Albuquerque. By my best guesstimate we will be in the hotel by 6-7pm. Fueled up and we were out. Miles and miles of road trip. The Wife is reading, and I am trying not to plow head first into the side of the road or into oncoming traffic.
I don't know what it is about New Mexico drivers and why they have a problem with me, but I always find some kook that wants to race me when I try and pass them. With the cruse control on. At least it keeps me entertained, and the anger like a little fire keeping me warm with colorful insults running through my head.
We found the hotel this time. First try. No google issues trying to get us killed. Plus, it was the one we stayed in just a few days previous. Do I trust google maps to find me a pint and food? I like to live dangerously, so I gave it a whirl. Marble Brewery. 3.5miles away. Ended up in a dark industrial part outside of the bright lights of down town ABQ. Thanks google. Wait, there it is. There are people outside under heat lamps. We are here. Yes I had their IPA, took a hard look at the double IPA and decided I want to drive home, not to the crash site.
I have to say that Marble's IPA was the best of the trip. I don't know if it is an actual winner or that it just came at the apex of the trip and the culminating experience just made it all the better. Which ever it might be it was one tasty IPA. If you find yourself in the greater ABQ area and are parched from the high desert air, I highly recommend Marble Brewery. They have a limited menu (food), but more than make up for it with the liquid brewed confections. We shared some nachos.
We hooked up with my sister for a short night cap, and then to the hotel, another long day tomorrow. New Years Eve. 10hrs in a car, driving wishing that you were still riding single track in Utah. This was not to be. We stopped briefly to eat lunch with my parents in Amarillo, and then kept rolling. We made it back to Tulsa in time to clean up and head over to a party. Normally I would be all-a-rage to party it up, but the drive must have taken the wind out of my sails.
Showing posts with label Beer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Beer. Show all posts
Monday, January 23, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Branded
I am going to get very controversial, but I feel this needs to be said. I do have loads of hesitation, but I would not be genuine if I did not tell it like it is. This is my opinion and I have an opinion just like everyone has an opinion like they have _____. Keep an open mind when proceeding, and allow me to explain myself. Please commit your opinion, if you are bold enough to do so.
I am not a fan of Slick Rock. Sorry if I just pissed on your Alamo, but I love flowy-buttery-bermed single track. Slick Rock is the antithesis of my style of riding. Before you get all ranty and ravey, and call your congressperson. Hear me out. The actual geography of SR is super cool, there is nothing else like it anywhere. I give it high marks for being original. The original. We did not ride a whole lot of SR because of the sheer other-worldly-ness of the place. To say that we were weirded out by the place is an understatement. I have to be honest and say that the exposure really jacked with my senses. I was scared, and rode scared. I felt like I was going to fall off, down, go over the bars, every little rise I crested.
It has been several weeks, and I still cannot come up with a better excuse than just plain old FEAR. I cannot bag on the place, because it is rad. I just don't have the round circular objects that bounce to ride a place like that. If I had a week to get used to it I might be able to rock it, but I don't feel that I would enjoy it as much as a loamy tree covered rail-able trail. The one face saving grace (my face) is that I totally dug being able to just go off "trail" and carve up what ever you could without falling to your death. It is a rolling sandstone paved skate park, with banks, drops, whoops, and plenty of places to get some surf inspired turns. This is the part that I love about SR, the ability to choose your own line. I will go back. I have unfinished business. Side note: The Wife hated it.
We made our way to the nearest Mexican food joint and filled the tank. Bummer no imports, just domestic beers, which means Mexican Beers (which I love, but I want local), I'll have a water. The Boss had a fish-bowl margarita, it was tasty. We did a little souvenir shopping and then stopped in at Poison Spider Bikes. This is one of the premier shops in the country. $$$$$$$. Super cool and totally small shop feel. Guys were actually cool and not a-hole shop types. I chatted with him for a while and then dropped the "where do you ride?" question. Told him what I was looking for and like a good dealer who uses, he pointed us in the direction of the Moab Brands trails. Sounds good.
We went back to Moab Brewing after Smiths to get The Julie some root beer. Travis said that I had to have a Derailleur Amber, I had two. I tip my cap to Travis' discerning taste in the brewed beverage department. Good show mate. Back to the hotel, clean up, pack up, early wake up, tomorrow is going to be a long day.
At the Moab Brands trail head I checked the map one more time to get my mental picture, and we were off. It was freaking cold, the sun was still fighting for elevation to make it over the La Sals in the East. Hands and feet were starting to protest, but the blood was pumping trying to do its job. First up, the EZ trail. Flowy single track with some rocks and a little elevation change, but no climbing. Heaven. We hooked with the Bar-M to get to the Rocking A, this was just a double with some elevation change. We arrived at the Rocking A, which was Navajo Slick Rock. Cool. Not so Cool Navajo SR is just like the sandstone, except it is rough with pock marks that make it ride rough. Not a fan.
1.5miles of rough SR and we were done. Circle O was out of the question, it was more of the same. Scratch that. Back to the Bar-M, and we headed back to the end of the EZ and we hit up the Lazy. The Lazy is the sister trail of the EZ. Super fun twisty single track with some elevation gain, but no climbing. Up and down and up and down again. We rounded a corner and the trail dropped down into a shallow slope that was twisty and BERMED. I railed! I was off-the-hook-out-of-control. This produced a permigrin. I might have let out a "Wheeeeeee" once or five times.
At the end of the Lazy we were back to the start, and the North 40 trail head was begging for me to come explore. I asked The Boss? She said OK. We headed out and it started off a little tech, but it has promise, I kept asking if we should continue? Yes. YES! Next little up put us into an awesome contour carve into some twisty down hills. Sweet. I'm sure my legs were a little tired, but I felt nothing but the pull of the trail begging for me to keep turning over the pedals. I no longer felt the bike, I had melted into the man-machine. A oneness that happens, and is unexplainable unless you have been there for yourself. Stoke. I was starting to become this trail, a trail that I had never ridden. I couldn't stop, couldn't slow, just had to go. This was Christmas morning and I just opened a present that I didn't ask for, but it was one that I have always wanted.
I am not a fan of Slick Rock. Sorry if I just pissed on your Alamo, but I love flowy-buttery-bermed single track. Slick Rock is the antithesis of my style of riding. Before you get all ranty and ravey, and call your congressperson. Hear me out. The actual geography of SR is super cool, there is nothing else like it anywhere. I give it high marks for being original. The original. We did not ride a whole lot of SR because of the sheer other-worldly-ness of the place. To say that we were weirded out by the place is an understatement. I have to be honest and say that the exposure really jacked with my senses. I was scared, and rode scared. I felt like I was going to fall off, down, go over the bars, every little rise I crested.
It has been several weeks, and I still cannot come up with a better excuse than just plain old FEAR. I cannot bag on the place, because it is rad. I just don't have the round circular objects that bounce to ride a place like that. If I had a week to get used to it I might be able to rock it, but I don't feel that I would enjoy it as much as a loamy tree covered rail-able trail. The one face saving grace (my face) is that I totally dug being able to just go off "trail" and carve up what ever you could without falling to your death. It is a rolling sandstone paved skate park, with banks, drops, whoops, and plenty of places to get some surf inspired turns. This is the part that I love about SR, the ability to choose your own line. I will go back. I have unfinished business. Side note: The Wife hated it.
We made our way to the nearest Mexican food joint and filled the tank. Bummer no imports, just domestic beers, which means Mexican Beers (which I love, but I want local), I'll have a water. The Boss had a fish-bowl margarita, it was tasty. We did a little souvenir shopping and then stopped in at Poison Spider Bikes. This is one of the premier shops in the country. $$$$$$$. Super cool and totally small shop feel. Guys were actually cool and not a-hole shop types. I chatted with him for a while and then dropped the "where do you ride?" question. Told him what I was looking for and like a good dealer who uses, he pointed us in the direction of the Moab Brands trails. Sounds good.
We went back to Moab Brewing after Smiths to get The Julie some root beer. Travis said that I had to have a Derailleur Amber, I had two. I tip my cap to Travis' discerning taste in the brewed beverage department. Good show mate. Back to the hotel, clean up, pack up, early wake up, tomorrow is going to be a long day.
At the Moab Brands trail head I checked the map one more time to get my mental picture, and we were off. It was freaking cold, the sun was still fighting for elevation to make it over the La Sals in the East. Hands and feet were starting to protest, but the blood was pumping trying to do its job. First up, the EZ trail. Flowy single track with some rocks and a little elevation change, but no climbing. Heaven. We hooked with the Bar-M to get to the Rocking A, this was just a double with some elevation change. We arrived at the Rocking A, which was Navajo Slick Rock. Cool. Not so Cool Navajo SR is just like the sandstone, except it is rough with pock marks that make it ride rough. Not a fan.
1.5miles of rough SR and we were done. Circle O was out of the question, it was more of the same. Scratch that. Back to the Bar-M, and we headed back to the end of the EZ and we hit up the Lazy. The Lazy is the sister trail of the EZ. Super fun twisty single track with some elevation gain, but no climbing. Up and down and up and down again. We rounded a corner and the trail dropped down into a shallow slope that was twisty and BERMED. I railed! I was off-the-hook-out-of-control. This produced a permigrin. I might have let out a "Wheeeeeee" once or five times.
At the end of the Lazy we were back to the start, and the North 40 trail head was begging for me to come explore. I asked The Boss? She said OK. We headed out and it started off a little tech, but it has promise, I kept asking if we should continue? Yes. YES! Next little up put us into an awesome contour carve into some twisty down hills. Sweet. I'm sure my legs were a little tired, but I felt nothing but the pull of the trail begging for me to keep turning over the pedals. I no longer felt the bike, I had melted into the man-machine. A oneness that happens, and is unexplainable unless you have been there for yourself. Stoke. I was starting to become this trail, a trail that I had never ridden. I couldn't stop, couldn't slow, just had to go. This was Christmas morning and I just opened a present that I didn't ask for, but it was one that I have always wanted.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
M to the OAB
This is like when you get all into a series on TV and they get to the end of the season, you have to wait until it comes back on and they have new shows. Yeah, kinda like that, except not as entertaining. I really think the two or three of you that actually read this are just waiting for a break down or for me to go verbally insane and just write horrible things about people you know. I'm not to that point....Yet. But if it got more people to read......
So when we left our wayward travelers they were about to embark on a single track daytime assault mission at Dead Horse Point, UT. It was cold, the air was crisp with the morning sun warming the red rocks. The view, spectacular. The man and his wife donned the frocks of mountain biking. Words were spoken, helmets fastened, chains were aligned into the proper gear ratio. A small wheelie of joy was held for the slightest of time dropping from pavement to high desert dirt.
Time to rail some sick turns.
DHP is a trail system with two conjoined loops with an inner short/easy loop and a longer/easy loop. Distance worked out to be a mile or so less than what was posted. It was a very well thought out trail, and it did have a few intermediate sections, but all in all it was super fun. All single track with flowing turns a few ups and down, but no climbs. Fast, fast, and more fast. There was quite a bit of snow on the trail in the shaded zones, but no mud to speak of. The snow on the tires mixed with the powdery clay dirt an made some crazy sugar cookie tires that shed like fragmentation grenades. This was a little annoying at times and fun at other times. Perspective. Remember this is the first time I had been on a bike in a few hundred hours, so I had it pinned. The wife was not too amused with my childlike enthusiasm for speed, to her credit she was riding a broken bike. Front fork seized, and rear brake was spongy as Mr. Squarepants. She soldiered on like a trooper not wanting to rent a $45 bike.
At the end I was ready for another lap, but there was a pint and a burger waiting at Moab Brewery. My wife asked for a sample of their Stout, and the waiter with limited English comprehension skills brought a pint. She did not like this one. I had an IPA, was elbow deep into my burger and then tried to finish off her Stout. Yes, and we were still going to go to Slick Rock to check out the world famous trail. I am ashamed to report that I could not finish the job and left beer on the table. It was a sad sad day, I felt shame walking out with a half empty beer on the table. -Optimist.
Hold on folks this is the part of the show they call the cliff-hanger. They build up the action right at the 0:55:00 mark and then put up the to be continued... We headed from Moab Brewery to Slick Rock and geared up for some more MTB action. The parking lot was full of intimidation, it was the view, the feel, everything about rolling out of the lot onto the trail felt ominous. We headed to the Practice Loop, and the first up section was a gear grinding 4mph short climb right into a roll-over screaming downhill turn into some snow and ice. It gets better???
So when we left our wayward travelers they were about to embark on a single track daytime assault mission at Dead Horse Point, UT. It was cold, the air was crisp with the morning sun warming the red rocks. The view, spectacular. The man and his wife donned the frocks of mountain biking. Words were spoken, helmets fastened, chains were aligned into the proper gear ratio. A small wheelie of joy was held for the slightest of time dropping from pavement to high desert dirt.
Time to rail some sick turns.
DHP is a trail system with two conjoined loops with an inner short/easy loop and a longer/easy loop. Distance worked out to be a mile or so less than what was posted. It was a very well thought out trail, and it did have a few intermediate sections, but all in all it was super fun. All single track with flowing turns a few ups and down, but no climbs. Fast, fast, and more fast. There was quite a bit of snow on the trail in the shaded zones, but no mud to speak of. The snow on the tires mixed with the powdery clay dirt an made some crazy sugar cookie tires that shed like fragmentation grenades. This was a little annoying at times and fun at other times. Perspective. Remember this is the first time I had been on a bike in a few hundred hours, so I had it pinned. The wife was not too amused with my childlike enthusiasm for speed, to her credit she was riding a broken bike. Front fork seized, and rear brake was spongy as Mr. Squarepants. She soldiered on like a trooper not wanting to rent a $45 bike.
At the end I was ready for another lap, but there was a pint and a burger waiting at Moab Brewery. My wife asked for a sample of their Stout, and the waiter with limited English comprehension skills brought a pint. She did not like this one. I had an IPA, was elbow deep into my burger and then tried to finish off her Stout. Yes, and we were still going to go to Slick Rock to check out the world famous trail. I am ashamed to report that I could not finish the job and left beer on the table. It was a sad sad day, I felt shame walking out with a half empty beer on the table. -Optimist.
Hold on folks this is the part of the show they call the cliff-hanger. They build up the action right at the 0:55:00 mark and then put up the to be continued... We headed from Moab Brewery to Slick Rock and geared up for some more MTB action. The parking lot was full of intimidation, it was the view, the feel, everything about rolling out of the lot onto the trail felt ominous. We headed to the Practice Loop, and the first up section was a gear grinding 4mph short climb right into a roll-over screaming downhill turn into some snow and ice. It gets better???
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Last Tango in Durango
XC skiing is hard work, I don't like hard work, but I do like this. If I lived in a snow-covered geographical location I could see myself getting all into to this. That is just what I need another gear intensive sport that requires mountains of time to get good at, like I don't already have a garage full of toys. Jack of All, Master of None.
With the sun directly overhead and my stomach sending my brain text messages, it is time to eat. I do the whole man thing and go ask the rental guy where to get a good pint. And some food. The Old Schoolhouse just up the road. Pizzas and beer. Tons of atmosphere. Closed. Now what? We are about 20some odd miles from Durango and starving. Guess we are headed back to Durango, I am not going to fight the crowd atPurgatory Durango Mnt Resort. Thirteen-ish miles and I spy a tiny Restaurant sign sandwiched between Gas and Groceries.
First impressions would have most people running for the hills or back to civilization, but the smell said "Stay". Oh, heck yeah, pizza-by-the-slice -to order nonetheless. Well worth the stop and I highly recommend. Fuel level says F, time to humble oneself with some more XC. Sun was warm, no wind and it was perfect. The boss and I did another small loop, crashed some more, got tired and hung it up. One more notch in the belt of life, XC skiing -check.
On the drive back to Durango it was decided by majority rule that we need to check out and quality control a local brewer. Durango Brewery a few miles up and on the left. I made a quick scan of the cars parked in the parking lot and determined we were headed into Locals Territory. Other than stepping out of an Oklahoma platted Rav, we were pseudo-local. Never look at a beer menu when wanting to present yourself as a local, just ask for the IPA. No, really I just look to make sure they have an IPA, but what kind of brewery would you be if you did not have an IPA. Come on.
The Boss texted the FiL to come out and have a pint. I quickly made sure to get some samples for the FiL and wife. They are not accustomed to craft beer. Not to fear, we were able to get them into a Golden Ale for the FiL and a Hefeweizen for FiL's wife. There was a slight mix up in the order and we had a Golden Ale that was orphaned. Not to fear again, for I am a beer disposal unit and I adopted and promptly drank. After a few pints time to hit the town to rent some snowshoes for the in-laws for an outing in the morning.
So I was about 0.0005secs from wetting my pants. Don't judge, I had a few pints and then a cup of coffee. It was the coffee that put me over the edge. Thank goodness for the restroom in the back office of the snowshoe rental place, otherwise I would be facing indecent exposure charges or an embarrassing pant wetting story. So it is time to get something to eat again and we head to another Durango brewery named Steamworks. It was loaded, packed. It was like an hour wait or something crazy bad like that. It was packed full of tourists. Not my cup of tea. Time for a walk.
With the sun directly overhead and my stomach sending my brain text messages, it is time to eat. I do the whole man thing and go ask the rental guy where to get a good pint. And some food. The Old Schoolhouse just up the road. Pizzas and beer. Tons of atmosphere. Closed. Now what? We are about 20some odd miles from Durango and starving. Guess we are headed back to Durango, I am not going to fight the crowd at
First impressions would have most people running for the hills or back to civilization, but the smell said "Stay". Oh, heck yeah, pizza-by-the-slice -to order nonetheless. Well worth the stop and I highly recommend. Fuel level says F, time to humble oneself with some more XC. Sun was warm, no wind and it was perfect. The boss and I did another small loop, crashed some more, got tired and hung it up. One more notch in the belt of life, XC skiing -check.
On the drive back to Durango it was decided by majority rule that we need to check out and quality control a local brewer. Durango Brewery a few miles up and on the left. I made a quick scan of the cars parked in the parking lot and determined we were headed into Locals Territory. Other than stepping out of an Oklahoma platted Rav, we were pseudo-local. Never look at a beer menu when wanting to present yourself as a local, just ask for the IPA. No, really I just look to make sure they have an IPA, but what kind of brewery would you be if you did not have an IPA. Come on.
The Boss texted the FiL to come out and have a pint. I quickly made sure to get some samples for the FiL and wife. They are not accustomed to craft beer. Not to fear, we were able to get them into a Golden Ale for the FiL and a Hefeweizen for FiL's wife. There was a slight mix up in the order and we had a Golden Ale that was orphaned. Not to fear again, for I am a beer disposal unit and I adopted and promptly drank. After a few pints time to hit the town to rent some snowshoes for the in-laws for an outing in the morning.
So I was about 0.0005secs from wetting my pants. Don't judge, I had a few pints and then a cup of coffee. It was the coffee that put me over the edge. Thank goodness for the restroom in the back office of the snowshoe rental place, otherwise I would be facing indecent exposure charges or an embarrassing pant wetting story. So it is time to get something to eat again and we head to another Durango brewery named Steamworks. It was loaded, packed. It was like an hour wait or something crazy bad like that. It was packed full of tourists. Not my cup of tea. Time for a walk.
Friday, January 6, 2012
In the thick of it
All cleaned up and time to hit the town. I can already feel the vibe of the awesomeness envelop us before we even make it to Main. FiL wants some Italian, so the search is on. I pull up Google Maps and somehow can't spell Italian, is it I before A except after L? Google pulls up a few restaurants. Turn left here, and it is right on our right. Parking lot? Was that 12th? Oh, no not again Google! Next. Get back on Main and look for a left turn on 7th. Alright, 1 for 3 ain't bad.
Hoity toity super expensive hostess girl asks if we have a reservation. Otherwise it's going to be 45min. I'm thinking I can rack up a GDP sized bar tab in this place in 45min. Must have been my shoes, Fox Racing...not Prada. Thanks but, No thanks. Time to pound some pavement in search of sustenance. FiL spies a familiar place on the corner and we proceed to our destination. Upon opening of the door, first look says Bar and not so much Grill. It is all of 40' across and packed with a mixture of locals and tourists, we fit somewhere right in between. We find the table that is open right next to a tiny stage and a speaker. People at the bar have been there for a while, or at least for a few shots. Maybe they had been there for a long while, or a lot of shots. I'm starving and the body is shutting down starting with it's ability to make conversation. I'm in full on tool mode and FiL is looking at me like this is going to hurt a little.
I need carbs. Beer me! Now! Stat! Where is that 1800's clad dancing girl waitress? Oh, great the "talent" is taking the stage. Well at least we don't have to worry about conversation. Pizza, and could I get another beer in this century? So this C&W singer cranks it up. I'm not into Country or Western music. It's somehow a sing-a-long and I don't know the words. Dude stops and says "sir, you are not participating"! I gave him my best I'm not from your country and don't understand your strange customs. "Sorry I don't listen to Country" After my second beer and half a pizza down the hatch, I tried my hand at heckling. I, being fluent in music and somewhat of a smart arse, I yell out Don Mclean! C&W guy seems to be more fluent than I and busts out into American Pie. Touche!
And a good time was had by all. It was a rocky take-off but a smooth landing. Next morning up early, body still set to central time. Time to hit the road and find Durango Nordic Skiing Club. I'm going to try XC Skiing, for the first time in my life. I am excited, and a little apprehensive. I have knowledge of XC and know that it is 90% technique and 120% cardio. I am going to hurt tomorrow, hurt in places that are new and interesting. First I need to learn how to clip into these stupid skinny nothing of a ski. It took me so long that the rental guy came out of the club house to help out the "challenged" kid -me. I'm feeling so cool at this point. Can I get a padded helmet and a safety vest? And, can you have the short bus come by to pick me up?
Learning new things, one sometimes has to set aside ego and embrace ones inner self deprecating loser. I love me. The club has 20k of trails. We dabbled in a few of the k's and I found that I can't turn when going downhill. I did learn that gravity is most certainly real and not just a myth cooked up years ago. The earth is flat, at least the parts that I hit with my arse are flat. The views were some of the best of the trip. (up to this point)
That's all for today...Coming up...More Pizza...and a trip to the Durango Brewery
Hoity toity super expensive hostess girl asks if we have a reservation. Otherwise it's going to be 45min. I'm thinking I can rack up a GDP sized bar tab in this place in 45min. Must have been my shoes, Fox Racing...not Prada. Thanks but, No thanks. Time to pound some pavement in search of sustenance. FiL spies a familiar place on the corner and we proceed to our destination. Upon opening of the door, first look says Bar and not so much Grill. It is all of 40' across and packed with a mixture of locals and tourists, we fit somewhere right in between. We find the table that is open right next to a tiny stage and a speaker. People at the bar have been there for a while, or at least for a few shots. Maybe they had been there for a long while, or a lot of shots. I'm starving and the body is shutting down starting with it's ability to make conversation. I'm in full on tool mode and FiL is looking at me like this is going to hurt a little.
I need carbs. Beer me! Now! Stat! Where is that 1800's clad dancing girl waitress? Oh, great the "talent" is taking the stage. Well at least we don't have to worry about conversation. Pizza, and could I get another beer in this century? So this C&W singer cranks it up. I'm not into Country or Western music. It's somehow a sing-a-long and I don't know the words. Dude stops and says "sir, you are not participating"! I gave him my best I'm not from your country and don't understand your strange customs. "Sorry I don't listen to Country" After my second beer and half a pizza down the hatch, I tried my hand at heckling. I, being fluent in music and somewhat of a smart arse, I yell out Don Mclean! C&W guy seems to be more fluent than I and busts out into American Pie. Touche!
And a good time was had by all. It was a rocky take-off but a smooth landing. Next morning up early, body still set to central time. Time to hit the road and find Durango Nordic Skiing Club. I'm going to try XC Skiing, for the first time in my life. I am excited, and a little apprehensive. I have knowledge of XC and know that it is 90% technique and 120% cardio. I am going to hurt tomorrow, hurt in places that are new and interesting. First I need to learn how to clip into these stupid skinny nothing of a ski. It took me so long that the rental guy came out of the club house to help out the "challenged" kid -me. I'm feeling so cool at this point. Can I get a padded helmet and a safety vest? And, can you have the short bus come by to pick me up?Learning new things, one sometimes has to set aside ego and embrace ones inner self deprecating loser. I love me. The club has 20k of trails. We dabbled in a few of the k's and I found that I can't turn when going downhill. I did learn that gravity is most certainly real and not just a myth cooked up years ago. The earth is flat, at least the parts that I hit with my arse are flat. The views were some of the best of the trip. (up to this point)
That's all for today...Coming up...More Pizza...and a trip to the Durango Brewery
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Psycho Cross
So, there is this thing.
I've watched a lot of cross, and it looks like so much fun. Heckling from the "other" side of the tape is so much fun. The craziest thing happened... all my friends were getting Cross rigs and gearing up to race Cross this season. Not to be outdone, and lord let's not forget peer pressure (real or conceived). I broke down and bought a frame, cannibalized my race bike and now I have a full on CX race machine. A no excuse race machine. Yeah! I'm totally set.
What the ____ was I thinking? Cross is hard. Period. I'm talking kick to the crotch pain. It starts off like it's not gonna hurt, but then it slowly builds into an agonizing body death that can only be cured by a mass quantity of brewed man soda. Cross is full gas from the hole shot. The only time you can rest is when you come to the line at the finish or when you spend some time on the ground after a failed dismount over a barrier.
People Pros make things look easier than they are, make sure you know what you are doing before you sink time and money into a soul crushing body destroying good time. Don't get me wrong, Cross is awesome. Cross is tough, full on, and it requires time to perfect.
I'm watching Superprestige Rudervoorde on the interweb right now and it seriously looks like so much fun and they make it look so darn easy. Like another sport that I used to play, Hockey. Watching Pros play hockey is so beautiful, graceful, and it looks so easy. Yeah, now go out and try and ice skate, now try and hockey stop -both sides. Not so easy is it? Now try to stick handle, shoot, pass, and try not getting knocked on your backside. Yet it looks so easy. Now go ride your bike in the mud. Sand. Grass. Barriers? Stairs? Really?
Now that looks like fun, and it has to be easy right?
Crossing the tape (no pun intended) from spectator to participant seemed like such an easy thing. Buy a bike, ride the bike, race the bike. Oh, no! Once you commit you are committed...for good or evil.
I always wondered why Cross racers wore skinsuits? Answer: it is the next closest thing to a straight jacket that the cycling world has to offer.
I've watched a lot of cross, and it looks like so much fun. Heckling from the "other" side of the tape is so much fun. The craziest thing happened... all my friends were getting Cross rigs and gearing up to race Cross this season. Not to be outdone, and lord let's not forget peer pressure (real or conceived). I broke down and bought a frame, cannibalized my race bike and now I have a full on CX race machine. A no excuse race machine. Yeah! I'm totally set.
What the ____ was I thinking? Cross is hard. Period. I'm talking kick to the crotch pain. It starts off like it's not gonna hurt, but then it slowly builds into an agonizing body death that can only be cured by a mass quantity of brewed man soda. Cross is full gas from the hole shot. The only time you can rest is when you come to the line at the finish or when you spend some time on the ground after a failed dismount over a barrier.
I'm watching Superprestige Rudervoorde on the interweb right now and it seriously looks like so much fun and they make it look so darn easy. Like another sport that I used to play, Hockey. Watching Pros play hockey is so beautiful, graceful, and it looks so easy. Yeah, now go out and try and ice skate, now try and hockey stop -both sides. Not so easy is it? Now try to stick handle, shoot, pass, and try not getting knocked on your backside. Yet it looks so easy. Now go ride your bike in the mud. Sand. Grass. Barriers? Stairs? Really?
Now that looks like fun, and it has to be easy right?
Crossing the tape (no pun intended) from spectator to participant seemed like such an easy thing. Buy a bike, ride the bike, race the bike. Oh, no! Once you commit you are committed...for good or evil.
I always wondered why Cross racers wore skinsuits? Answer: it is the next closest thing to a straight jacket that the cycling world has to offer.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Don't call it a comeback
Writer's block? I don't think so? I don't know what my problem is? Issues? Issues are supposed to be good fodder for writing, Right? My issues are unequivocally boring, nothing that would merit prose or lyric. Oh the days of boy meets girl boy looses girl. Now, there is a goldmine in that, too bad it was like 20 some odd years ago.
I have been on the bike, or should I say bikes? About two weeks ago I dusted off the mtb and put some Stans in the tires to make itroad mountain ready. It is nice to be back out on the dirt, rocks and roots. Roots, yeah that is where my cycling comes from, the fat side of the family. Tires that is. I've been rocking the off-road cycle since 1999, you do the math -I've been drinking. So, now I find myself coming full-circle or semi-circle and taking the road bike to the dirt. I've been misquoted as saying that I would never race Cyclocross. I'm pretty sure that what I was trying to say was that I would never race cyclocross as a Pro. Just needed to clear that up so as to avoid confusion when you see me struggling to mount and dismount.
Yes, I have a CX frame sitting in the shop waiting for brakes and a bottom bracket, and to be built. Minor details. I am going to pretend to race CX this season so that I can add yet another bike to the stable of bikes that I already own. Pretty sneaky of me don't you think? Very Very Sneaky.
You have probably heard of "hold my beer and watch this"? Well, I am going to race CX with a slightly different mantra... I will proudly be flying the flag of "Hand me a beer and watch this". That's right anything worth doing, well or not well should involve the consumption of liquid courage. Being my heritage is of the Germanic nature, I therefore should honor that heritage as best as possible. I will be drinking ales, lagers, and stouts to name a few. Oh, you thought with my background I would be invading and occupying countries, that comes later -but keep it on the DL.
Let the CX experiment begin. I highly encourage you to heckle at a race or at a practice, it is very cathartic experience and much appreciated. Please, and I mean please be creative with your hurled insults, the crazier the better. Imagination is a wonderful thing, use it. Keep the swears to a minimum when there are Clergy or children present.
I have been on the bike, or should I say bikes? About two weeks ago I dusted off the mtb and put some Stans in the tires to make it
Yes, I have a CX frame sitting in the shop waiting for brakes and a bottom bracket, and to be built. Minor details. I am going to pretend to race CX this season so that I can add yet another bike to the stable of bikes that I already own. Pretty sneaky of me don't you think? Very Very Sneaky.
You have probably heard of "hold my beer and watch this"? Well, I am going to race CX with a slightly different mantra... I will proudly be flying the flag of "Hand me a beer and watch this". That's right anything worth doing, well or not well should involve the consumption of liquid courage. Being my heritage is of the Germanic nature, I therefore should honor that heritage as best as possible. I will be drinking ales, lagers, and stouts to name a few. Oh, you thought with my background I would be invading and occupying countries, that comes later -but keep it on the DL.
Let the CX experiment begin. I highly encourage you to heckle at a race or at a practice, it is very cathartic experience and much appreciated. Please, and I mean please be creative with your hurled insults, the crazier the better. Imagination is a wonderful thing, use it. Keep the swears to a minimum when there are Clergy or children present.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Pizza legs
Ok, if you are here to get one of those "look at me" "I love myself" race report recap crap, you are in the wrong blog-o-sphere. I raced my bike really fast along with my teammates. We had a great time and if you want to hear about it keep reading, if you are looking for turn by turn directions of the racing go somewhere else, or hang around after a group ride and bring a cooler full of man sodas.
So there I was, monkey fist firmly squeezing my medulla oblongata and a demon in full control of my upper and lower GI tract. Staring down a 40min crit that was about four hours away. How did I get here and why do I do this to myself? Why?...the F word...Fun. Yeah, it's all about the fun, and I am not the only one who likes to have fun. We have several instigators and propagators of hilarity and hijinx. Put all that in tight quarters, mix in some adult beverages a bike race or two and you have the recipe for one heck of a hangover.
Roadtrips are fun, seriously they are fun. You have to be in the right company and you have to have the right combo of activities and geography. Sometimes you have to look for the fun, but most of the time it will find you, just open your eyes and it will be all around you. Crazy lives everywhere, I've seen it...I've done it. Rule #1 only stop at truckstops, truckstops are like the seaports of the old world, you never know what you will find. Treasures lurk in the shadows -take a camera, for proof of what you have seen.
The best part of the weekend was the people, should I say friends, family, teammates? Yes, yes, and yes. I have the great privilege to know and cavort with some of the most incredible friends/family. In the last three years that I have been part of this crazy thing we call a cycling team, I have had some of the best memories off the bike with these cats. I have friendships that have been forged through pain and suffering but polished with togetherness. I'm not going to name any names -to protect the innocent- but we won a race had some podiums and that was all we needed to get the homebrews flowing and the google maps looking for a brewpub. Several hours later an inflatable phallus, the bachelorette party and one of Wichita's finest that we swore was a male entertainer. Oh, yeah it just happens to us. If we had not left when we did, I am afraid that some dance moves would have been displayed, with minimal skill -but displayed nonetheless.
So that brings me back to the Sunday morning hangover minus the tattoo or missing tooth. The only issue I had was, "why do I do this"? I'm pretty sure I have a problem, my problem is that I have Rock Star ambitions and a Boyscout tolerance. And that whole deal of having to race a crit in a parkinglot? I mean really? My body feels like I was part of a medical experiment at KU and me and solid food are not friends. Did I mention it is as hot as the surface of the sun? Yeah, I love roadtrips and bike racing. Am I serious about it? What do you think? I'm serious about having fun.
So there I was, monkey fist firmly squeezing my medulla oblongata and a demon in full control of my upper and lower GI tract. Staring down a 40min crit that was about four hours away. How did I get here and why do I do this to myself? Why?...the F word...Fun. Yeah, it's all about the fun, and I am not the only one who likes to have fun. We have several instigators and propagators of hilarity and hijinx. Put all that in tight quarters, mix in some adult beverages a bike race or two and you have the recipe for one heck of a hangover.
Roadtrips are fun, seriously they are fun. You have to be in the right company and you have to have the right combo of activities and geography. Sometimes you have to look for the fun, but most of the time it will find you, just open your eyes and it will be all around you. Crazy lives everywhere, I've seen it...I've done it. Rule #1 only stop at truckstops, truckstops are like the seaports of the old world, you never know what you will find. Treasures lurk in the shadows -take a camera, for proof of what you have seen.
The best part of the weekend was the people, should I say friends, family, teammates? Yes, yes, and yes. I have the great privilege to know and cavort with some of the most incredible friends/family. In the last three years that I have been part of this crazy thing we call a cycling team, I have had some of the best memories off the bike with these cats. I have friendships that have been forged through pain and suffering but polished with togetherness. I'm not going to name any names -to protect the innocent- but we won a race had some podiums and that was all we needed to get the homebrews flowing and the google maps looking for a brewpub. Several hours later an inflatable phallus, the bachelorette party and one of Wichita's finest that we swore was a male entertainer. Oh, yeah it just happens to us. If we had not left when we did, I am afraid that some dance moves would have been displayed, with minimal skill -but displayed nonetheless.
So that brings me back to the Sunday morning hangover minus the tattoo or missing tooth. The only issue I had was, "why do I do this"? I'm pretty sure I have a problem, my problem is that I have Rock Star ambitions and a Boyscout tolerance. And that whole deal of having to race a crit in a parkinglot? I mean really? My body feels like I was part of a medical experiment at KU and me and solid food are not friends. Did I mention it is as hot as the surface of the sun? Yeah, I love roadtrips and bike racing. Am I serious about it? What do you think? I'm serious about having fun.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Brew Haus
Your two weeks are up, the specific gravity is perfect, right on the numbers. Time to bottle. Get out the sanitizer, bottles, capper, priming tank, ect, ect. Home brew is work, but it is so much fun. Exciting. Don't forget...Rewarding.
Bottling is fun. Filling. Capping. Putting the fruits of your labor into cases and then storing in a warm dark place. Bottling also signals Job Done, all that there is left to do is wait, and then pop a top, pour, repeat.
It is a simple process, once you have your beer fermented and you check the specific gravity, to see that fermentation is complete, you add sugar to the priming tank. The sugar is a small amount that will activate the yeast again to produce CO2 to carbonate the beer. This is what is known as "bottle conditioned".
I use 22oz bottles to cut back on a little of the labor, and since this is a pouring beer a 22 works out great. I like to drink out of 12s, but pouring beers are nice in the 22s. There is sediment in the bottom of bottle conditioned beers, and the constant tipping of the beer stirs up the sediment, so therefore pouring is cleaner.
Anyway, getting way to technical. The Amber that I brewed is amazing (by my biased opinion) after all, all I did was follow directions, so I think I can say amazing and not be egotistical. All patting oneself on the back aside I would like this beer even if I had no hand in it. I like it so much I will be brewing it next, that is right after I get finished with my Honey Wheat. That's right, got the kit in today along with a secondary fermenter. So I will get the Amber in the mail and a week after I brew the Wheat I will transfer it to the secondary fermenter and brew the Amber and place it in the primary fermenter. Bottle the Wheat and the Amber goes into the secondary. Rinse and Repeat.
I think I might have a Brewing problem? Hello, my name is Glenn Duh and I am a Brew-a-holic.
Bottling is fun. Filling. Capping. Putting the fruits of your labor into cases and then storing in a warm dark place. Bottling also signals Job Done, all that there is left to do is wait, and then pop a top, pour, repeat.
It is a simple process, once you have your beer fermented and you check the specific gravity, to see that fermentation is complete, you add sugar to the priming tank. The sugar is a small amount that will activate the yeast again to produce CO2 to carbonate the beer. This is what is known as "bottle conditioned".
I use 22oz bottles to cut back on a little of the labor, and since this is a pouring beer a 22 works out great. I like to drink out of 12s, but pouring beers are nice in the 22s. There is sediment in the bottom of bottle conditioned beers, and the constant tipping of the beer stirs up the sediment, so therefore pouring is cleaner.
Anyway, getting way to technical. The Amber that I brewed is amazing (by my biased opinion) after all, all I did was follow directions, so I think I can say amazing and not be egotistical. All patting oneself on the back aside I would like this beer even if I had no hand in it. I like it so much I will be brewing it next, that is right after I get finished with my Honey Wheat. That's right, got the kit in today along with a secondary fermenter. So I will get the Amber in the mail and a week after I brew the Wheat I will transfer it to the secondary fermenter and brew the Amber and place it in the primary fermenter. Bottle the Wheat and the Amber goes into the secondary. Rinse and Repeat.
I think I might have a Brewing problem? Hello, my name is Glenn Duh and I am a Brew-a-holic.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Early Christmas
Ask my wife, I'm a child. I'm a child with ADHD...want to go ride bikes? I can't wait, can't wait in line, can't wait for packages to show up, can't wait for my beer to be done. So I did it. I opened one three days early, and the world as we know it is still here.
I am officially or technically supposed to open it on Monday, but I had to see how my baby was doing. I grabbed one of the three 12oz beers that I have and I reached for the bottle opener. The cap came off and the carbonation brought the beer to life. I took a sniff of the longneck, and it smelled... smelled like beer... good beer. I poured said beer into my favorite glassware and the perfect head crowned the beer like frothy royalty.
First sip was a little scary, all that time, energy, THE WAITING was over and for what? Great beer (by my standards) and brewed by my own hands, with my ability to follow directions and a recipe (thank you Mrs. Miller 4th grade who said I would never amount to anything).
I brewed Beer
I am officially or technically supposed to open it on Monday, but I had to see how my baby was doing. I grabbed one of the three 12oz beers that I have and I reached for the bottle opener. The cap came off and the carbonation brought the beer to life. I took a sniff of the longneck, and it smelled... smelled like beer... good beer. I poured said beer into my favorite glassware and the perfect head crowned the beer like frothy royalty.
First sip was a little scary, all that time, energy, THE WAITING was over and for what? Great beer (by my standards) and brewed by my own hands, with my ability to follow directions and a recipe (thank you Mrs. Miller 4th grade who said I would never amount to anything).
Friday, November 26, 2010
Amber is the color
Just a quick little update on the Bell Lap Brewing.
I bottled my Amber Ale on Monday and it will be ready to consume in two weeks, so sometime after Dec 6th. So far so good, I tasted the beer before bottling just to see if it had gone South and turned nasty on me. It did not. It has good flavor and is nice and hoppy, but flat at the moment. I added priming sugar and began the bottling process. I purchased a case of 22oz bottles that way I had less bottles to deal with. I am still working on my 12oz collection. Silly me I bought some Boulevard and it is twist-off. I need to check a little better next time, oh well, it is good beer. One of the best micros that is somewhat close (KC), in my opinion for what it is worth.
If my amber is drinkable I am going to dub it One to Go Amber Ale, technically it is someone else's recipe so not sure if I have naming rights? Lawyers? Still working on a good name for the IPA. Some ideas...Bridging the Gap IPA, Soloing IPA, Going Rouge IPA, I Sat in Gum IPA. Anyway probably putting the cart before the horse.
Some day I will publish great works, and brew great libations. -Gotta have dreams, Right?
-Who's got next round?
I bottled my Amber Ale on Monday and it will be ready to consume in two weeks, so sometime after Dec 6th. So far so good, I tasted the beer before bottling just to see if it had gone South and turned nasty on me. It did not. It has good flavor and is nice and hoppy, but flat at the moment. I added priming sugar and began the bottling process. I purchased a case of 22oz bottles that way I had less bottles to deal with. I am still working on my 12oz collection. Silly me I bought some Boulevard and it is twist-off. I need to check a little better next time, oh well, it is good beer. One of the best micros that is somewhat close (KC), in my opinion for what it is worth.
If my amber is drinkable I am going to dub it One to Go Amber Ale, technically it is someone else's recipe so not sure if I have naming rights? Lawyers? Still working on a good name for the IPA. Some ideas...Bridging the Gap IPA, Soloing IPA, Going Rouge IPA, I Sat in Gum IPA. Anyway probably putting the cart before the horse.
Some day I will publish great works, and brew great libations. -Gotta have dreams, Right?
-Who's got next round?
Monday, November 15, 2010
Pale rider
No, that is not my nickname during the winter months. I'm talking about Pale Ales, and IPAs, that kind of Pale. I know this time of year I should be at the liquor store buying seasonal "fall/Autumn" style beers, but I just cannot quite my love affair for the hoppy hopped up Ales. Don't get me wrong, I am a fan of the Porter, the Stout and of course the Amber Ale, and this time of year the Oktoberfest seasonal. I just rode the fixie over to the liquor store and picked up Avery Brewing's IPA. Avery is out of Boulder, Co and have been brewing what they call "eccentric ales and lagers that defy styles or categories" since 1993. I don't know what it is about the craft beers that come out of Colorado, but there is something special about them, at least for me. It might be the Northeast for you or the Northwest, but give me a good craft beer out of Colorado and I am a happy man.
Avery's IPA by the numbers: 6.5% ABV 69 IBU's So for you that know what those mean, pat yourself on the back. For the rest of us, it means that this beer has twice the alcohol that an Oklahoman beer has, and it is a fairly bitter beer. The Bud Light drinker should change the channel at this point, if you made it this far. This IPA has four varieties of hops Columbus, Chinook, Cascade and Centennial. I believe, (correct me if I am wrong. to lazy to google this right now) that these varieties are all from the West and Northwest. With the four hops going into this beer you will experience a very hoppy beer -go figure. The flavors and aroma are very complex with citrus and floral overtones. Even with the complexity of the hops, this beer is an exceptionally smooth beer, for an IPA mind you.
As the label on the bottle says "Our IPA demands to be poured into your favorite glass to truly appreciate the citrusy, floral bouquet..." In a glass you notice the smell right off, a crisp sharp clean jab to the nostril, that changes once the IPA hits your tongue. The hops come alive while you take a sip, and you are left with a subtle but not overly bitter finish. This is a complicated beer that is masquerading as a simple "have a few" beer. I had a nice pasta dinner with bologease sauce lots of garlic salt and some Parmesan cheese, and I could taste the differences that this beer has to offer. It was three different beers, the before meal, during, and after dinner dessert.
Words are fun to play with when trying to describe something that needs no words to describe. Take a drink and you will come up with your own opinion of Avery's IPA. My opinion plus $4.00 will get you a cup of coffee at Starbucks. But a trip to your local liquor store and $8.00 will get you a six pack of one of my favorite IPAs. I know it is not IPA season, but this pale rider is hooked on the Pale Ales.
Waiting, Wanting
Tomorrow will be week number 1 of my brewing experience. I'm working real hard doing nothing. I have one more week before I test the final gravity and go to bottle. It has been killing me to wait not knowing how this is going to turn out. I want it in the bottle ready to pop a cap.
I have decided to brew an IPA as soon as I bottle next week I will start the brewing process for my next batch. Plus, if the first batch goes South I will have a back-up waiting in the wings. I went to the Liquor store last night to get a sixer of Pale Ale and have some bottles to recycle for my beer. I assumed all micro brews used non-twist off caps, yeah they don't, and I just so happened to get ones that twist off and I can't use them.
The beer was good, can't complain there. Hood River, Oregon's own Full Sail Pale Ale. It is a nicely hopped Pale with what drinks like an alcohol content on the lower side for Pale Ales. Even though it clocks in at 5.4% it does not overwhelm the flavor. It is not overly hopped, but just the right amount and a nice woodsy flavor, not on the minty or floral side. Not that I don't like minty or floral. I would say for a Pale Ale it is an uncomplicated straight forward double or triple hopped Ale, with a flavor that begs for you to enjoy more than one in a siting. Bet you just can't have one. So, all of this makes up for the fact that the bottles are twist off.
If you like Sierra Nevada's Pale Ale, check out Full Sail and be prepared to add a new favorite to the "will buy again" list. If for some reason you find that you cannot enjoy, let me know and I will send a disposal unit to your doorstep free of charge.
I have decided to brew an IPA as soon as I bottle next week I will start the brewing process for my next batch. Plus, if the first batch goes South I will have a back-up waiting in the wings. I went to the Liquor store last night to get a sixer of Pale Ale and have some bottles to recycle for my beer. I assumed all micro brews used non-twist off caps, yeah they don't, and I just so happened to get ones that twist off and I can't use them.
The beer was good, can't complain there. Hood River, Oregon's own Full Sail Pale Ale. It is a nicely hopped Pale with what drinks like an alcohol content on the lower side for Pale Ales. Even though it clocks in at 5.4% it does not overwhelm the flavor. It is not overly hopped, but just the right amount and a nice woodsy flavor, not on the minty or floral side. Not that I don't like minty or floral. I would say for a Pale Ale it is an uncomplicated straight forward double or triple hopped Ale, with a flavor that begs for you to enjoy more than one in a siting. Bet you just can't have one. So, all of this makes up for the fact that the bottles are twist off.
If you like Sierra Nevada's Pale Ale, check out Full Sail and be prepared to add a new favorite to the "will buy again" list. If for some reason you find that you cannot enjoy, let me know and I will send a disposal unit to your doorstep free of charge.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Day One
Today is the first day of the rest of my life. If everything goes as planned I will, in 28 days, drink my first beer created by me. That is a long time to wait in this instant gratification world that we live in. Drive-thru this, instant that, zap it, micro-wave it, give it to me yesterday. I can't stand to wait, I have to have it now.
It's killing me that water takes so long to boil. Do you know how long it takes to boil 4 gallons of water? I don't, but I am starting to understand. Yes, that is just the initial boil to get the water boiling, then it takes a full hour to boil the "wort" or un-fermented beer. I have some time to kill. Time to check the pot again.
The malt pouch and the first of the hops have been added. Now just more time, more waiting, all the while thinking that I might screw something up and destroy all of this time that I am putting into this little bottled bundle of joy. Just checked and I am half-way through my boil.
Fast forward a little and I have chilled the wort and I transferred it into the fermentation tank. Now the real waiting comes. In two weeks I will check the specific gravity of my beer to see if fermentation is done. If it is, then I will get to transfer it to the priming tank and we will go for bottle.
I was a little worried about the mess of brewing, but the smell was more of a concern. Thought the wife would freak out and kick me to the curb. The hops smell great and the house smells better than cooking bacon, I know I love bacon to. Man do those hops smell good. Hey, this aint Bud Light. This process did take a little longer than I expected, but now I know what I am in for the next brew cycle.
It's killing me that water takes so long to boil. Do you know how long it takes to boil 4 gallons of water? I don't, but I am starting to understand. Yes, that is just the initial boil to get the water boiling, then it takes a full hour to boil the "wort" or un-fermented beer. I have some time to kill. Time to check the pot again.
The malt pouch and the first of the hops have been added. Now just more time, more waiting, all the while thinking that I might screw something up and destroy all of this time that I am putting into this little bottled bundle of joy. Just checked and I am half-way through my boil.
Fast forward a little and I have chilled the wort and I transferred it into the fermentation tank. Now the real waiting comes. In two weeks I will check the specific gravity of my beer to see if fermentation is done. If it is, then I will get to transfer it to the priming tank and we will go for bottle.
I was a little worried about the mess of brewing, but the smell was more of a concern. Thought the wife would freak out and kick me to the curb. The hops smell great and the house smells better than cooking bacon, I know I love bacon to. Man do those hops smell good. Hey, this aint Bud Light. This process did take a little longer than I expected, but now I know what I am in for the next brew cycle.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Beer of Failure
Alright, here is the deal. I decided to do something that I have wanted to do for about 13years, but just have not been able to pull the trigger. I'm not getting any younger, and that whole thing about getting wiser -that's a myth, and I decided that this is as good a time as any. I purchased a home brew kit.
I love a good beer. I like to cook and I can follow a recipe, that has to be a no-brainer. Right? Just boil some water, throw in some grains, a little yeast, some sugar, voila... you've got beer. How cool will it be to drink beer that you made with your own hands? I mean we are not talking scratch here, but pretty darn close. My only fear, and I do emphasise FEAR, is that I go through the process and wait the time and pop open a wonderful hand crafted 22oz of joy and it is total crap. Talk about a complete nightmare... "so there I am getting it on with this perfect female body and... but with the head of Abraham Lincoln. With the hat and the beard, everything." -Tony from Dazed and Confused Yeah, kinda like that.
The fear of failure has kept me from attaining a dream of mine for 13 years, and now when the kit arrives I will have about 4-5weeks of nervous anticipation, anticipation of the probability of failure. Oh the horror, to put in that kind of time and energy only to have something just turn into undrinkable swill. I don't know if I can stand it. Well, on the bright side of life, if the stars align and everything just happens to go "right", I will have beer. My beer. Beer created by my ability to follow directions and boil water. Well at least this process will give me something else to post about. Besides, you cannot fail unless you try.
I love a good beer. I like to cook and I can follow a recipe, that has to be a no-brainer. Right? Just boil some water, throw in some grains, a little yeast, some sugar, voila... you've got beer. How cool will it be to drink beer that you made with your own hands? I mean we are not talking scratch here, but pretty darn close. My only fear, and I do emphasise FEAR, is that I go through the process and wait the time and pop open a wonderful hand crafted 22oz of joy and it is total crap. Talk about a complete nightmare... "so there I am getting it on with this perfect female body and... but with the head of Abraham Lincoln. With the hat and the beard, everything." -Tony from Dazed and Confused Yeah, kinda like that.
The fear of failure has kept me from attaining a dream of mine for 13 years, and now when the kit arrives I will have about 4-5weeks of nervous anticipation, anticipation of the probability of failure. Oh the horror, to put in that kind of time and energy only to have something just turn into undrinkable swill. I don't know if I can stand it. Well, on the bright side of life, if the stars align and everything just happens to go "right", I will have beer. My beer. Beer created by my ability to follow directions and boil water. Well at least this process will give me something else to post about. Besides, you cannot fail unless you try.
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