Trip Report: Garick takes a Bud Light drinker to the Great American Beer Festival
It wasn't easy. In fact, it took a massive prop-bet. If I'd lost, I would have had a tattoo of a prawn, at least as large as a matchbox, on my butt for ten years. Fortunately, APD is a grammar fish, and I was able to name 25 grammar terms that he couldn't define. (no google for either of us). So, here are the rules. APD comes to GAFB and has to drink one full mug of each of the following styles of beer:
American Lager
Hefewiezen
Amber
Oktoberfest
India Pale Ale
A Porter or a Stout (his choice)
An English ale (mild, bitter, or nut brown)
A Belgian
and a seasonal/special of his choice
So only nine mugs, but some challenging styles. APD strategizes by going to the Southwest pavilion, as it is the closest to the first aid station.
We start at Ranger Creek Brewing & Distilling. I sip their mesquite smoked porter and sit back to watch the show. APD starts with Lucky Ol’ Sun, a light Belgian brewed with pilsner malt. Nice easy start, right??? APD takes one swig and spits it out. "OMG, I can't stand it! It has flavor!!!" APD has the mug refilled and decides to have some of their Texas .36 Bourbon to kill his taste buds so that he can choke down this "refreshing spring beer great for the patio." This turns out to be bad tactics. Although it does allow him to drink the beer, it sets a bad precedent and makes for a bad mix.
Belgian is off the list, and we move down to Real Ale Brewing company. Emboldened by his success, APD decides to get a challenge out of the way now and drink their Russian Imperial Stout while his taste buds are still tasting bourbon. I think this sounds like a good choice and join him. He chugs it as fast as he can, which only adds to the gas chamber effect of the Belgian yeasts, Russian rye, and highly flammable bourbon. It's a good thing smoking is banned here, because if anyone struck a match near APD, the whole tent might explode. I decided to take a bathroom break.
This was also a tactical error, as APD took advantage of my absence to go next door and get some more taste-bud suppressants. When I came back, it smelled less like craft beer, and more like skid row. He tried to go next door again, but I claimed Rock Bottom didn't count, so he stumbled down to Spoetzl Brewery. Obviously, this is the place for an Oktoberfest, but Shiner Oktoberfest is notoriously gassy, so I vetoed on public safety grounds. APD then decided to hit the specialty beer and drink the "Prickly Pear." This is described as an "easy drinking session beer," but to me tasted like Zima. APD loved it. At least he liked one...
From there down to Thunder Canyon Brewery, where I had the Cuppa Joe Porter, and APD went for the Countdown Honey Brown. Sadly, Thunder Canyon turned out to be a good name not only for the brewery, but also for a certain portion of APD's anatomy. Countdown Honey Brown seemed more like Countdown to Trouser Brown, or at least to blast off. I went to the first aid tent to get a mask, and while I was gone, APD was 86'ed, having completed only four of the nine required beers (and two bourbons).
On the plus side, his prawn tattoo is gonna be epic.