And there are the hops, growing away. The Centennial doesn’t look like much but it’s the only one to have a tiny second sprout growing. The Galena took off early but then stopped, like it’s waiting for something. Given the weather lately I’m inclined to think more sun. Finally the Willamette has grown the most, and is soon going to be wrapped up in the bird netting we put up to ‘train’ the vines to grow up the side of the garage.
I’m of the opinion that using ‘leet‘ speak to name something is failing that art. I realize I’m not 21 and hip deep in internet goodness, and that the awesome just passes me by. I just don’t care. Sinister is an awesome word; it doesn’t need to be tarted up with hipsterisms.
That curmudgeonly outburst aside, this is a pretty good beer. A roasted chocolate nose, like a mocha in the morning. Very clean, this beer leaves so little trace in my mouth I’m almost at a loss to describe it. Like a chocolate amber ale, maybe?
This is the first 10 Barrel beer I’ve had and I will credit them with leaving a good impression. There’s a pale and a summer ale on tap as well, and I think I’ll be giving those a taste as well. They’re out of Bend, OR where Deschutes makes its home, and I don’t know what they’ve got going on the other side of the state, but some definite craftmanship is making its way over.
I like Bailey’s right now; that inbetween moment that is the mark of airplane travel; you are not here, you are not there. The Schrodinger‘s moment of being nowhere and everywhere at the same time. The patrons are plenty lively, but there aren’t many of them, so it is a perfect time to show up and write. Plus the light is lasting longer, and you can finally make out my drinking visage. I don’t know how long I’ll be coming around 8pm, but so far it seems to be working well.