The Rest Stops from Tacoma to Portland, in Geographical Order and in Haiku

12 03 2012

Rest stop #1, ~ at milepost 94

Pee-pee stained heck hole?

No, I’d describe it like this:

Urine-soaked hell hole.


Rest stop #2, ~ at milepost 55:

Much nicer, but packed.

Toilets full–I, puzzled, think:

Poop at a rest stop?


Rest stop #3, ~ at milepost 13

Disinfectant here­–

Not pristine, though; not cherry

Blossoms on Fuji.


My Progress (Monday, pre-lunch)

27 02 2012

I’ll be able to get the Pike and the Harmon in the next day or two, and then it’s four beers. Any four Washington beers.

I’d like to thank Mr. Fuz, who has kept repeating “Eyes on the prize” as he quaffed beers with me this week.

My progress (Friday, pre-lunch)

24 02 2012

Boy, do I wish Elysian weren’t pushing their heather beer. I’m sure it’s cromulent, but I’m…not fond of heather. There, I said it.

It’s the bingo game I was meant to play, baby…

21 02 2012

/A line Troy McClure might have said, and which you would have remembered from such films as “Beers, Broads, and Bingo!” and “Would You B-9, Valentine?”

Like bringing a beet to a beer fight

13 02 2012

I’m at Brouwer’s the other weekend, and my first pick (Deschutes’ Stoic) was shot down. So I went with the Epic Beet Down.

Pour: Goldish-orange with a touch of red. Cloudy; definitely not a beer to take a picture through. No carbonation to speak of; the head lasted seconds before collapsing.

First sip: This is a really delightful shandy with a touch of honey. The pucker is strong, the effervescence is right-on, and the flavor dances across the tongue. That flavor isn’t well defined, beyond the lemon and touch of honey, except for perhaps a hit of earthiness.

Second sip-sixth sip: There’s beet in this beer. And I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Epic is very good at pushing limits with their concoctions, often taking some real risks in their adjuvants (shiitake mushrooms? spearmint?).

Here, however, the beet adds sweetness without in the end giving balance to the beer. And I wonder how they used the beets. Were they raw? Roasted? Pureed? Whatever the case, I feel as if the essential sweetness of the beet hadn’t been tempered, or that (perhaps) the beet sweetness feeds the pucker, rather than attacks it.

Seventh sip: This is still a damn good beer. But I don’t need as much of this beer as I’ve been given. This is a palate-cleanser, not a full pint.

Tenth sip: A roasted hint. But not enough. Curse this beer.

20th sip: Yuck.


50th sip: Fucker, you’re going down.

Gulp – gulp – glup

Winner. And still champeen. But at what cost?

($5.00. And intestinal fortitude.)


19 09 2011

A while back, I made snide comments about a local brewery. Which doesn’t mean I didn’t believe them to be true, just–snide, is all.

This last Saturday said brewery was sampling their wares at the Farmer’s Market in my neck of the woods, so I tried their IPA, and Mr. Fuz, their porter. While I was less entranced by the porter (I didn’t hate the sip I had, but I didn’t love it), the IPA was actually a solid brew.

Perhaps I should make time to re-evaluate their beers.

Ceci n’est pas un bière belge

12 09 2011

I’m at my regular, and the place is almost deserted. Which is good for me, because it means that there are few who might look askance at my request to watch tennis.

And I’m enjoying–really, truly enjoying–the Sound Brewing’s Monk’s Indiscretion. It’s bright and clear, a medium-gold color with a somewhat hefty body–not the body that I was expecting. The mouthfeel is full and rich, with a good chunk of citrusy hops that add a delightful fragrance.

But where is the Belgian in this Belgian beer? It took a while for me to come up with the answer, and–while it shouldn’t have surprised me, it did. The yeast was the thing that made this beer a Belgian. While the body and the nose gave me two different profiles, overall, the profile had that slightly saponaceous quality that I associate with Belgians.

A delightful beer for truth-telling and tennis-watching.