Beer Extravaganza (Part Two)

Hello everyone.

First, my apologies for the lack of blog posts lately. As mentioned, I spent the past week or so housesitting in the boonies, with dial-up and generator-powered electricity. I tried getting online, even just to check my email and Facebook messages, but the connection was so ridiculously slow (45k!) that I gave up. I did make a trek into town to get online at a restaurant that had wi-fi, but I couldn't connect for some technical reason.  And wouldn't you know it, by the time I realized I had already ordered food.

The good thing is I got lots of work done on my book.  I had come to the conclusion that I needed to start over, and so that's what I did.  I certainly wasn't an easy decision to make, as I had spent over a year on it and had written over 35,000 words, but it's the right thing to do.  I'm not really changing the story, but just changing how it's told.  I think my decision kinda freaked Cathy out, but then when I got back home and she read what I had so far, she said she thought it was much better and she agreed with my decision.  Now, I've basically said in 10,000 words what used to take 35,000 words to say, which means the story moves a lot faster, and I've ditched a lot of the pointless bullshit.  And more importantly, I feel better about the whole thing. 

But now I'm ready to do some blogging!

Rob (Beer) Happenings

As mentioned, Cathy and I made a trek up to Schweitzer mountain over Labor Day weekend for their Fall Fest celebration. It wasn't officially fall when we were there, and weather-wise it still felt like the middle of summer, despite the fact that the main village sits in the mountains at around 4,700 feet. It was nice, sunny, and surprisingly warm up there, and there was a pretty good turnout for the festivities. Initially, we brought Tucker with us, but when we walked past the stage, there was a band playing. The amplified freaked him out, and he managed to somehow squirm out of his collar and run away. Fortunately, he didn't go very far, and we got him and brought him back down to the car and let him chill out in the shade in the parking lot where things were relatively quiet.

Then we went back to the festival puppy-free and tried again. The first thing I did, naturally, was stand in line to get a glass and some beer sample tickets. Unlike the Brews Fest at Silver Mountain, where you had to pay for admission that included beer samples, admission at Schweitzer's Fall Fest was free, and if you wanted beer samples you had to buy them. I thought this was a better way to go. Also, Schweitzer had lots of different options for how many samples and even the type of drinking vessel. I chose the "pint," mainly because glass because you get to keep it and this would one more to add to my collection, but also because glass is always better than plastic, which is what the mug at Silver Mountain was made of. There was a plastic mug option, which I appreciate, because for those planning on drinking a lot of beer, it's good to have a non-breakable option.

Once I got my glass, I headed to the beer tent. One thing I liked better about Silver Mountain's Brew Fest was that you could get 1/4 mug tasters, whereas at Schweitzer, my glass came with three full-glass tokens. That was enough beer for me, but I would've preferred the ability to try more of a variety than just three beers.

Deschutes "Hop in the Dark"

In the tent, I found the Deschutes table right away, and they had Hop in the Dark on tap. That's all I needed to hear to know that's what I wanted to start with. Hop in the Dark is a Cascadian Dark Ale. There's a bit of a controversy over the name for this style of beer. Lots of people call it "Black IPA," because it's dark in color but has the hoppiness of an IPA. But here's the issue with that: IPA stands for India Pale Ale, and it's rather stupid to call something both "Black" and "Pale," no? I've also seen it referred to as "India Black Ale" or "India Dark Ale." Aside from the fact that "IBA" and "IDA" sound too much like "IPA," which would be confusing when people are trying to order a beer in a noisy pub, this style wasn't invented in India. In fact, India has nothing to with the beer, aside from a similarity in hoppiness to the IPAs that do trace their roots to British colonization (and exploitation) of India. This style was born and bred in the good old US of A.

That's why I am going with "Cascadian Dark Ale," and why I appreciate the fact that Deschutes does the same. The "Cascadian" part of the name comes from the notion of Cascadia being a name for the Northwest. And although this style was supposedly invented in Vermont, it's definitely been popularized and embraced by the Northwest, and it tends to be brewed with a generous helping of Northwest hops. I also am a fan of the Cascadia independence movement, so long as North Idaho is included if and when it happens. I don't want to move again.

Anyway, Hop in the Dark was predictably fantastic, and it's definitely one of the better examples of this style out there. It's got a nice, smooth, thick malty flavor that's balanced by a generous helping of floral, citrusy Northwest hops. Good stuff.

Rogue "Dead Guy Ale"

Speaking of the Northwest, the next beer I had was Rogue Dead Guy. It's hard to categorize Dead Guy. Rogue calls it a maibock, which is a strong German lager brewed with extra hops. But Dead Guy uses ale yeast, which is fermented at room temperature, instead of lager yeast, which is fermented at lower temperatures and is what maibocks use. To confuse things even more, Rogue calls it "Dead Guy Ale."

Whatever it is, it's good. The problem with Rogue is that it's way too expensive. Their beer is good, but I don't know why they insist on charging way more than everyone else. Even in Oregon, where Rogue is located, it still costs way more than Deschutes, Ninkasi, Bridgeport, Full Sail, and other similarly-sized Oregon breweries. I don't get it. It's probably one of those things where they figure if they charge more, people will assume it's because it's much better. But it's not. I mean, don't get me wrong--their beer is good to excellent. But so is the beer from those other breweries, which are 2/3 the price.

Anyway, since all the beer essentially cost the same here, I went with the Dead Guy. I'm still always surprised when I see it in a glass instead of a bottle of how light in color it is, because it tastes like a much darker beer. I don't expect it to be black or even brown, but maybe a dark amber in color.  Nope.  It's pretty light.  Fortunately, it doesn't taste that way.

Northern Lights "Chocolate Dunkel"

I was down to my last beer at this point, and Cathy had mentioned that she noticed Northern Lights had their Chocolate Dunkel on tap, which is something she'd enjoyed up at Silver Mountain.  Being the great husband I am, I spent my last beer token on this beer, just so I could share it with her.  Oh, who am I kidding?  I like the beer, too.

Normally, I don't go for sweet, dessert-ish beers like this one, but this one worked, particularly after the lingering hop bitterness in my mouth from the other two.  It also made a nice "dessert" to our food, which we'd just finished, but was nothing special, and so I won't be blogging about it.  To be honest, it's been over two weeks since the festival, and while I took notes about the beer, I didn't take any food notes, and I really don't remember what we ate.

Moving on.

Through all of this, there was a band playing Latin music.  They were pretty decent, though the music wasn't my style.  At one point in between songs, the singer said how glad they were to be "up here on Silver Mountain," which drew a few boos from the crowd until he realized what he'd said and apologized.  That was amusing to watch.  It was also amusing to watch the older yuppie couple make fools of themselves by salsa dancing in front of the stage while everyone was watching, though in truth I was probably a bit jealous that they were willing to make asses of themselves and not care what other people thought.  Either that, or they were just oblivious of how ridiculous they looked, but then how could you not know how ridiculous two people look when they're salsa dancing?

Overlooking Lake Pend Oreille

After the dunkel, it was time to go.  And we couldn't make the trip back down from the mountain without stopping and taking some photos of the unbeatable view.  The view is even better from the top of the mountain, and we almost took a chairlift to the top to take some more shots, but we had a Tucker puppy waiting for us.  Next time.

It's funny.  I've already gone to more beer festivals up here in the less than a year I've been here than the whole ten years I was in Oregon, the land of good beers galore.  And we're planning on going to another one: this time an Oktoberfest celebration in a couple of weeks.  I guess when you live in Oregon, every day is a beer festival.  Not so much up here.  Still, it's nice to make an event out of drinking good beer.  It makes it seem so much more special.

In Closing

I've got still more beer news to blog about, including tasting some new beers and trying a new brewery.  I also made my "world famous"* chili yesterday and plan on posting the recipe and some photos in the near future.  Plus, I feel it's time to talk politics again, since I haven't in a while, and since there's a lot to talk about.  And I might even have something to say about all the crazy college sports (football) conference realignments.  So stay tuned.

Now here it is, your moment of Tucker:

Rob

* Note: "world famous" only applies to Rob Dow's World, not the actual world itself

More Book Stuff, The Abyss

Hello everyone.

First things first: Here's an amazing book report of Kurt Vonnegut's Cat's Cradle, written by a high school student a few days after 9/11. Click on the link and read it, now. Go ahead. I'll wait.

Now that you're back, let's get to it:

Rob Happenings

The past several days have been all about spending time with friends. We had a couple of friends from Oregon visit and stay the night with us a week ago. Then we reconnected with some old friends who live up here in Idaho last weekend. Then a couple of other Oregon friends stopped by last night. So the past week or so has been tons of fun and a great way to break up some of the monotonous solitude that's typical with rural living. Plus it was just great to see everyone.

The two friends who were here last night were among the ones I'd sent copies of the first 50 51 pages of my book to.  It turned out one friend only read the first few pages (which means she's either really busy or my book is really awful), but the other managed to make it through all 50 51 pages. After some beer, a little prodding on my part, and a lot of "please don't take this the wrong way" prefacing on his part, he gave me some solid criticism. Here's what I took from the conversation:

1. My writing often reads like college composition, not fiction. This is definitely true. After all, I was a college student for five years until quite recently, and that's where I honed my writing chops, so to speak. I also tutored students in college writing composition for three and a half years, so I'm finding it tough to break the habit. But that's stuff that can be fixed when I go back and edit. On the other hand:

2. My main character (a Christ-like character) is alternately brilliant and stupid, and I need to pick one. Either he knows everything or he doesn't. If he knows everything, he doesn't grow or change throughout the book, so what's the point?  If he's an idiot, he's just not believable.  I tried to get around this with a cheap plot device, but I just don't think it's working. Which means I'm going to have to reconsider my main character and his motivation. That's a much tougher one to get around.

3. There are a couple scenes and secondary characters that I might need to eliminate. I envisioned them coming back later near the end of the book to tie things together, but I'm not so sure now. I'll have to think about this one.

I don't enjoy criticism (not that I know anyone who does), so it stung at first, but I needed to hear it, and I'm glad I did. This particular friend is one of the most intelligent people I know, and he's not one to blow smoke, particularly about something like this.

All this is a reminder to me that writing is hard work, and I shouldn't expect to be a pro at it right from the get-go. For a brief moment earlier today, I considered scrapping the book and doing something else. But it's too late for that, so I'll just have to fix it. What would Kurt Vonnegut do?

Beer Happenings

As mentioned above, beer was consumed last night, including a special treat, a 2007 vintage The Abyss from Deschutes Brewery out of beautiful Bend, Oregon. Like a dumbass, I forgot to take photos of the beer as we sipped it, so here's a shot I took today of the empty bottle:

The Abyss is an imperial stout brewed with licorice and molasses, with 33% aged in oak and oak bourbon barrels.  I usually hate licorice, but I love beer, and this one has got to be near the top of my list of all-time favorites, if not right up there at the top.  My cousin bought me a case back when it first came out in early 2008.  When we were kids he must have done something horrible to me that I've since blocked from my memory, and now he's trying to atone.  No one could be that cool just because.  This bottle is number eleven out of the case of twelve, and if you're not a math pro, that means I'm down to one bottle of 2007 left.  I might not ever drink it.

I've been keeping my Abyss stash aging in dark, cool closets or basements of various placed we've lived over the last almost-four years, and like a fine wine (except better because it's beer) The Abyss only gets better with age.  Last night, I scraped away the wax coating Deschutes puts over the cap to ensure the seal and opened the bottle.  After it breathed for a minute or so, the initial alcohol burn (it's 11%!) evaporated away, and in its place was thick, chocolatey, coffee-ish, sweet-but-not-too-sweet goodness.  I couldn't really taste the oak or licorice flavors in this one as I had in some of the ones I'd tried that hadn't aged as long, but I didn't miss those flavors at all.  It was perfect.  It was like an orgasm in my mouth.  Except my own orgasm.  In someone else's mouth. 

Anyway, if you love beer, particularly big, dark beers, you owe it to yourself to try The Abyss if you can get your hands on it.

In Closing

Here it is, your moment of Tucker, taken last March at the Oregon Coast:

Rob

Beerfest and Tucker Swims

Hello everyone

I've got lots to talk about, including photos, so let's get right to it!

Rob Happenings

Last Friday Cathy surprised me with tickets to the Brews Fest at Silver Mountain Resort. For those of you unfamiliar with Silver Mountain, it's a ski resort in Kellogg, ID, a town east of Coeur d'Alene that sits in Silver Valley, which is carved out by the Coeur d'Alene river.  Kellogg was built on mining, including silver, hence the name of both the valley and the resort, and the ski resort sits on top of the mountains to the south above the town. One of the neat things about it is that the only way up is to ride in a gondola (or hike). To the best of my knowledge you can't drive up to the top, although there must be a service road for the employees to use because we could see rental trucks behind the stage. Anyway, I'd never been to Silver Mountain before, even during the eight years I lived in North Idaho during the 90s, mainly because I never had any reason to.  Whenever I went snowboarding, I always went to nearby Schweitzer, and I'd always heard Schweitzer was better, anyway. So I was kinda excited to see Silver Mountain and ride the "world's longest gondola" to the top. But let's be honest, I was really excited about the beer.

The ride to the top was what it was: a pretty uneventful 20 minute ride to the top. the views were great, but it's not like it was an amusement park ride or anything. We shared our car with another couple, and the lady seemed pretty afraid of the whole thing, especially at the section that crosses a valley pretty high in the air. I'm not a fan of heights, but it wasn't an issue for me, probably because there was glass (or plexiglass) between me and the ground below, aside from two small sliding windows on one side.

We got up to the top and stood in line to each get a mug and seven beer tickets, which were included in the price of admission to the event. Our mugs said "2005" on them, and the guy handing them out said they were "recycling."  I hope he meant "getting rid of leftover unused supplies," not "reusing the same plastic mugs for six years straight."  Anyway, a woman in another booth helpfully explained that one ticket was for a "taster" of beer, and that four tickets filled your mug. So naturally, using the skills I learned in college-level algebra, I assumed that one ticket meant 1/4 of a mug full. Some of the beer vendors apparently had other ideas.

I knew Ninkasi was going to be there, so I headed to their booth first. I was a little disappointed they only had Total Domination IPA and Believer Double Red on tap, two very good beers, but probably their two most common ones. But I decided to start someplace familiar before branching off into more exotic territory, and I chose a one ticket "taster" of Total Domination, while Cathy chose a "taster" of Believer. I was wearing a Ninkasi hat and a Stone brewing t-shirt for the event, and while the Ninkasi guy poured our beers, he commented on my clothes, and we chatted about good beer and Eugene, where Ninkasi is located and where until recently I was located for a decade or so. He handed us two mostly-full mugs of beer, not exactly 1/4 of a mug, not that I was complaining. I didn't try any of Cathy's Believer, but the Total Domination was predictably good, with a strong floral hop flavor and relatively clean finish, just like the other hundred or so times I've had it.

The extra-large "1/4-full" mugs seemed to be a (mostly) recurring theme. We headed over to the Deschutes tent and I sampled their Conflux No. 2, and IPA brewed with Belgian yeast. Blaugh. I realize Belgian beers and other styles brewed with Belgian yeast are all the rage these days, but I still can't get into it. The Belgian yeast flavor really turns me off, though I don't hate it as much as I used to, so maybe it's just an acquired taste thing. But the Belgian yeast and northwest hops together were just not a good combination, as they seemed to bring the worst in each other. The citrusy flavor of the northwest hops that I like so much was almost completely lost behind the pungent, sweatsock flavor of the Belgian yeast.  The yeast also seemed to amplify the hop bitterness, but not in a good way. Not a fan. Fortunately, this was the smallest (although still more than 1/4-full) taster I got, so I choked it down and moved on.

Cathy and I decided were were hungry, so she volunteered to stand in line at the sole food booth they had set up (Fail) while I got us some more beer. I ended up chatting with the guys at Odell, who had 90 Shilling Scottish Ale and Myrcenary Double IPA on tap. My shirt and hat proved to be yet another conversation piece, as I ended up chatting with the Odell guys about the wonders of craft beer before they offered me a (non-ticketed) taster of each. Both were excellent. The 90 Shilling was probably the smoothest Scottish ale I've ever had, and the double malt-level of the Myrcenary provided a nice balance to the double hop level, creating a big beer that didn't really taste like a big beer. I asked for a one-ticket taster of each, and the guy handed me two almost-full mugs. Yeah.

Cathy and I found a shady section of grass to eat our food pulled pork and pulled chicken sandwiches. Until last year, I had been a strict vegetarian (well, technically pescatarian) for thirteen years, and when I decided to start eating meat again, I vowed to only do so if it was sustainably and humanely-raised. Something tells me that wasn't the case here, but by the time I came back with the beer and we made it to the head of the line, we realized the only non-meat food they had available were tiny bags of potato chips.  This meant we'd either have to compromise our principles, starve, or take the gondola back down to the bottom. We opted for the former. So we choked down the crappy food (which actually didn't taste that bad), but at least we washed it down with good beer.

Next, we visited North Idaho Mountain's beer tent, and I sampled two tickets worth (which worked out to pretty much be a full mug) of their sunset red. This was a solid Irish red ale, a bit on the malty side with a slightly bitter finish, and it hit the spot. Then we headed over to Northern Lights' tent, and Cathy tried a free sample of their chocolate dunkel, which she liked so much she got three tickets-worth, even though she had planned on not drinking any more because she was going to drive us home. I ended up finishing that one for her later on.

North Idaho Mountain Sunset Red (left) and Northern Lights Chocolate Dunkel

We found another shady spot off to the side to enjoy our beers and listen to the music of the Kenny James Miller band. I'm not really into the blues, but the bass player was more than willing to funk things up on his 5-string, and after a rocky start due to technical issues, the band made up for it with long, extended jams that were more reminiscent of Widespread Panic than BB King, and so I ended up enjoying them. Also, I was on my fourth beer by this point, so I probably would've enjoyed the music regardless of the band.

Kenny James Miller Band

It was at this point that we began to worry about our dog Tucker, who was hanging out in the car at the bottom of the mountain. We had found a shady area to park, put a sun shade over the windshield, and left our tinted windows open enough so air could flow, but it was a sunny August day in the 80s, and we were beginning to feel like bad dog parents. So I polished off the red, and used the remaining four tickets at the Elysian tent to fill my mug with the exceptional Immortal IPA. Then we headed back to the gondola and down the hill.

Me with Elysian Immortal IPA and Cathy's Northern Light's Chocolate Dunkel

We didn't have to share the gondola with anyone else, which was fun, mainly because we could walk around the car and stick our heads out the window for better photos.

At the bottom, Tucker was chilling out just fine in the car. He didn't chew anything up like he's been known to do when left in the car for a while, so we rewarded him with some ball-playing time at a boat launch down the Couer d'Alene river.

"Throw the damn ball, already!"

"I can't believe you're making me beg!"

"That's what I'm talking about."

It's amazing how quickly he's gone from being scared of the water to just jumping right in. But since he's so obsessive about getting the ball, it shouldn't be a surprise.

In Closing

We have some friends from out of town coming in today, so I might not be doing much blogging for a few days while they're here. But I'll definitely be back soon.

Rob