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Project Alestream
I’ve always dreamed of buying an Airstream trailer and hitting the road. I’m not sure why. Mabye it’s the challenge of having to shower while sitting on the toilet seat. All I know is, after running the old Blind Tiger for ten years, only to see it close down, then enduring the challenges of opening the new one, I needed to recharge my batteries. I’m hoping that living in a small aluminum tube will help me do that.
The Blind Tiger is now in the capable hands of Alan Jestice and Tim Reinke, so for the next year or so, I’ll be traveling the southern half of the country while it’s cold, heading north when it warms up, eating all my meals out of the same bowl. Along the way, I’ll finally get to visit - and hopefully sponge off of - some of the great craft breweries I’ve been hearing about for the past twelve years. Which means I’ll also be spending a lot of time with with some great brewers.
I have this theory: craft beer is so complex, the people who make it tend to be complicated as well. They have to know a lot, and not just about beer. About everything. But there’s also a simplicity about them, as if in all that cooking, they’ve learned how to boil life down to what’s important, information that will come in handy now that I’ve downsized my own existence.
Brewers also know how to have fun. Think about it. They’re ancestry goes all the way back to the brewing monks of old, who not only made beer religiously, but were equally fanatical about sampling it, making sure it was good enough for the pilgrims, then feeling obligated to have another glass because the abbot was equally demanding, and maybe one more for themselves, before a long nap in the chapel.
Of course, modern day brewers don’t fast as much, and they’re allowed to speak, though most of them rarely leave the brewery, so if they do talk, it’s probably to themselves, hopefully not out loud. That’s another reason for my trip - if you want to see a brewer, you usually have to go to them, though not towing your home and all your belongings like I’m doing. I’ve also heard that brewers, like lions and elephants and other wildlife, are more interesting in their own habitats.
All right, so maybe I’m romanticiizing things a bit, but isn’t that what hitting the road is all about? Turning windmills into miniature golf holes? I think all of us yearns for a pilgrimage in our lives, and visiting breweries while living in trailer parks is mine.
Don’t worry, I won’t be creating all that carbon dioxide alone. I’ll be carpooling with Iris Kim, my girlfriend. This a great sacrifice on her part, since she’s allergic to beer. We’re still not sure if it’s the alcohol or the hops. Either way, is their anything worse than taking a couple hundred brewery tours and not being able to drink the free sampler at the end?
Our dog Cinnamon, who’s allergic to just about everything, and recently lost most of his hair after digging through the trash, will also be joining us. A Yorkie/Silkie mix, he sees the trip as a chance to explore trailer trash, which he’s heard a lot about.
Guess what - you’ll be able to follow our journey on the Blind Tiger web site. Go to blindtigeralehouse.com and click on the Alestream Express icon. You’ll be taken to a page with reports about the brewers we’ve met, the beers we’ve drunk, the road food we’ve et’, and the campgrounds we’ve consequlently soiled. We’ll be sending captioned photos, videos, and a blog by yours truly. Though only if I can figure out how all this equipment works. And you can see it all from the confines of your much roomier apartments...
We hope you come along for the ride...
Dave Brodrick
Captain
The Alestream Express
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