Well I did it; four weeks with beer named after a mythological animal. Sparky, a bar regular, tells me that Sasquatch is not a myth but I think he is saying that just because of a kinship he would claim with them. The man has a beard to rival any member of ZZ Top and sunglasses to match.
This beer is an old ale, and it’s quite rich. There’s a whiskey barrel note in the nose- a touch sour, a little woody or oaky, I think. The beer is full of roasted malt flavors with a touch of cocoa powder bitterness, coupled with an alcohol warmth that is putting a kindle in my belly; a useful trait for my walk home.
I’m a bit tired tonight-more than usual, I must admit. Perhaps daylight savings time is sneaking up on me, but doesn’t that mean I should feel like it’s nine at night, not ten? Nevermind. I don’t like to complain about these things. The timeshift has been happening for longer than I’ve been alive; adapt or else. Maybe it’s just more that daylight savings time gives us something to talk abut, a common human experience to converge on. We gave permission to be tired, to reset ourselves and grok the stranger on the bus who’s nodding off into their thermos of coffee.
I must confess, I’m glad to be released from my task of drinking mythological beers. My selections were extremely limited due to this restriction, and what I wanted didn’t matter so much as what I ought to have. Seems almost counterproductive, doesn’t it? Maybe it’s just a taste of what beer drinkers had to deal with thirty years ago; you get what you get and if you want something else, tough.
That said, I often have been having an extra beer after the post is written. There are just too many beers to try to keep with the same one over and over again. One thing I can tell you; avoid Rogue’s Sesquicentennial. It’s an IPA disguised as a pale ale, but both styles are obscured by the flavor of bubble gum. Not the good kind of bubble gum; the .05 kind that you’d get out of the machine when you were eight, hoping for the big round green piece, getting the red one instead. It’s rare that I don’t enjoy a Rogue, but I tried it twice (once in the bottle and once on tap) and still couldn’t enjoy it.
A final note to my readers; I’m off to Spokane on Wednesday to visit friends, family and tiny people, so updates will be sporadic if at all, until the next 52 Weeks post.