Drinking in Denver, CO 2011

Hello there, dear reader. Oh so long it has been since I have last updated you on my life, weekend version. OK, it has only been two weeks. But I hoped you missed me like I missed you. Let me tell you why there is nothing documented on this blog about the weekend before the last one as that is a common question I have received and would like to clarify that here.

Number one reason: I was saving money/energy to go to Denver during the dates of October 6-10, which is what this post is about.

Number two: my prime reason for visiting Denver was to take advantage of all the microbreweries in the city with the most in the US and I was told that this would be kind of difficult, in addition to the sheer number of them, given the altitude. I spent a good part of the previous weekend practicing my drinking while participating in a fantasy football draft in order to up my tolerance to the altitude. A fantasy football draft in week four of the season, you wonder? Yes, it's feasible and I was part of it. Then I went home and shaved my head. Not sure why that happened, but it did. And that would be all there is to say about Saturday, the 1st of October.

Number three for not writing last weekend:  OnFriday I went out on U St. with friends and ate at Fast Gourmet, which, literally, is a gourmet sandwich shop in a gas station on 14th St. Probably one of my more enjoyable nights in a while, yet pretty unblogworthy. BTW, it's a 24 hour establishment, so if you are in a mood for a gourmet sandwich at 3 am, and I know you will be, this is your place. But be prepared to wait because you will not be the only one. 

Denver.

So I get in to Denver at like 10pm ET, 8pm MT on 10/6. My friend was to arrive shortly thereafter, but her flight was delayed so I commenced the Denver Microbrew Extravaganza in the airport while waiting. My first two beers of the trip were Hazed & Infused and Single Track Ale from Boulder Brewing Co. And I am pretty sure Brock Huard, only the most prolific quarterbacks in the history of the University of Washington, stopped in the bar to take a peak at the baseball score on the television.

Then we finally check-in to the hostel and find the closest bar. It is one called Steuben's. It is like 1130 now and for some reason they are cleaning up the bar. So we have a couple beers moderately quickly. I have Odell's IPA and a cheap can of Olympia. At about 1230 this bar closed down so we headed across the street to Tavern Uptown. After a Widmer's Drifter Pale Ale and a New Belgium Hoptoberfest we called it a night. But not before stopping at 7-11 for dinner. Yeah, the altitude got to us. It is not a myth. Six beers in six hours should not have this effect.

Amazingly, we get up early enough for breakfast the next day. Correction: due to the time difference we get up for breakfast the next day. Which brings me to my goals for the weekend: find Left Hand Black Jack Porter on tap; eat a cheap/delicious burrito, a bison/buffalo burger, and Rocky Mountain oysters (you know, for novelty's sake). For breakfast on Friday I accomplished the eat a cheap/delicious burrito at this little stand on the 16th St. Mall. It was 10am, but that's noon on the east coast, so I went for the lunch burrito.

Luckily this guy was only here during the week days, otherwise I would have been here just about every meal.

Then, after my friend stopped for a real breakfast, lo and behold, it was a respectable time on the east coast to start trying more beers. So we stop in a little bar downtown while entirely under-dressed for the usual business lunch crowd that were the only other people in there. For the first time, so far, I got a beer I had had before, New Belgium Ranger IPA. However, it did not taste like that the first time I had it in Atlanta, and at this point was my favorite of the trip. It was also at this point that my friend was explaining to me how her friend says she dances like an octopus because she flails her arms about. This makes no sense to me because even though you flail your arms about it does not mean you acquire more arms in the process, especially not eight like an octopus. Ridiculous. I say she looks like a wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man. With the liquor of the bar in front of us I am reminded of a rum called Kraken because it is a kraken/giant octopus on the label and ask if she has ever had it. She says no but makes it one of her life goals to find it and have a shot. We were not your usual tourists.

On the way back to the hostel we pass Yard House, which is a chain restaurant with an enormous selection of beer, many of the micro version. I was hoping they would have the Black Jack Porter. They did not, so I ordered a Left Hand 400 LB Monkey IPA. The beer I received was not an IPA but tasted a little like bananas and was also not my favorite.

The one brewery that was recommended to us more than any other when we told people we were in Denver to drink was Wynkoop. So we go there for lunch/dinner, depending on which coast you were on, and some of their brews, of course. I had the Two Guns Pilsner, Cow Town Milk Stout, and B3K Schwarzbier.

Then the Phillies game came on. This was game five in a five game series. If they lose they're out of the playoffs and my entire trip is ruined. We head on past the Rockies' Stadium to watch/drink at Breckenridge's brewpub. Actually, I would have loved to have avoided watching the game, but it's not too easy to find a bar without TVs and it's impossible for me to not watch them when I am in such a bar, most especially when the Phillies are on. Well, they lost. And I hate them. Six months of hope invested into this baseball team for almost nothing. This Friday was the first time I had experienced the feeling resembling sadness in awhile. Enlightening, yet undesirable. Luckily, I bet my roommate a trip to a chinese buffet that they would lose because I had no faith in their ability to hit the ball when it mattered, and they didn't, so I have that going for me. Oh and I had the Vanilla Porter, which, you may remember, I loved when I had it here in DC a while back, but it was very sweet coming straight from the source. Also, the Thunder Stout and Autumn Ale.

Right down the street is Blake St. Tavern, where we headed to after the game. My friend ordered a Coors Light because it'd been a long day, and I ordered a Dale's Pale Ale. Then, what do we see sitting there on the liquor shelf in front of us? None other than the Kraken. My friend then orders a Diet Coke, chips and salsa, and a shot of Kraken. Yeah, that reaction you just had right there is very similar to the one our bartender had. Long story short, I ended up drinking her Coors Light.

Then we stopped in the Tavern Uptown by our hostel again, struggled with a beer each (I had a Fat Tire), and called it a night. It was only about midnight, but after that many beers and the time change it didn't feel that early.

This was our hostel:

 Looks nice, but Saturday it was like 40 degrees and raining and they only give you a sheet to sleep under and the windows were open in our room. I woke up shivering and looking for my phone as we had decided to not leave it to chance to find Black Jack Porter on tap and set my alarm so we could catch a bus up there. Problem was my phone wasn't on my bed. Of course, it had fallen down under the bed of the bottom bunk of the guy permanently living in this hostel. So at 730am MT I am awkwardly pacing the room trying to figure out how to get underneath this guy's bed without it looking like I am trying to steal his stuff. This is my nightmare. Then, of course, he wakes up and is like "what are you looking for?" I tell him my phone but he doesn't believe me. He insists I probably left it at the bar. I must give off that look of someone who loses their phone after drinking. He then says that if the phone is not under the bed he is going to be pissed off. I'm not sure I can blame him. Luckily, it was under the bed. And then another guy in the room is arguing with a family member on the phone about why he ran away from home and I figure it's probably time for me to get up.

Let's talk about miracles. How about waking up feeling fine and well after the Friday described above. Must be the altitude.

So we head on out to drink some more. This time in Longmont, CO at the Left Hand Brewery, home of the elusive Blank Jack Porter. But first we must prepare ourselves to brave the borderline freezing, rainy weather. So, after buying umbrellas, we head into a store to pick up hats and gloves, which we did not bring. Well, I got distracted by some really neat shoes and ended up leaving empty handed and no warmer, while my friend got a scraf, gloves, and a hat and was adequately clothed for the mile walk through the cold rain to the bus/brewery thereafter.

So we finally arrive at the brewery after being dropped off quite randomly on the side of the road. The whole trip was quickly worth it at first sip of the Black Jack Porter, though. Then I had a sampler of Fade to Black Pepper Porter, nitro Wake Up Dead Imperial Stout, Polestar Pilsner, and Stranger Pale Ale. Then another of the Haystack Wheat, cask of the Stranger, Black Jack Porter again (so so good--probably the best of the trip), and the real version of the 400 LB Monkey, which did not taste like the one that tasted like bananas. If you are in the Denver area, you must visit the Left Hand Brewery in Longmont. You're doing it wrong if you don't.

Back in Denver we head to another of the more popular microbreweries, Great Divide. We were hoping for a brewpub, in which they sell food, too, but this was not so. So I got samples of the Denver Pale, Hoss Rye Lager, and the Claymore Scotch Ale and then we left to find a place that served both food and beer and to meet up with my friend's friend.

My friend is from Boston. Unintentionally, we ended up in Denver's Boston bar, the Pour House. So we chitchat and eat for a bit. I have a Left Hand Saw Tooth, which was by far my friend's favorite of the trip, and an Odell's Cutthroat Porter, which is my favorite newfound brewery, and head on back to Wynkoop because I want to get a picture of the bar and my friend wants to try to their ginger bread.

Well, neither happens. But I do have their Silverback Pale Ale and London Calling IPA. And there goes Saturday.

Sunday was our relaxed day, which meant sleeping in, doing some normal people things, and not so much beer. So we start by making an unofficial law school visit to the University of Denver, as seen here:

Nice school, but I am too much of an east coast person to live all the way out there.

Then we pass by the original Chipotle, which I don't realize until I am in the Chipotle by my house in DC and see a picture of it on the wall, even though I claimed every Chipotle we saw had to be the first one. Then we end up at a delightful bar called Illegal Pete's because it's Denver and, who are we kidding, we are there to drink, so I have an Upslope Brown Ale. Now, if you drink this much beer you are bound to get one or two for free, right? Well, in the midst of pouring my Upslope, the keg gets kicked and so I get charged for that one but get the next one free.

And then my friend decides that should be her last beer since she wants to get a tattoo. So we go and get her a tattoo.

Then we go back to downtown so I can get a picture of this awesomeness:

Convention Center

And then we head back to Wynkoop for the third time so that my friend can get the gingerbread and I can get a buffalo burger and finally take a picture for my blog. I get a Mile HiPA and a Rail Yard Ale, which was also free. I was told the gingerbread was delicious. I can tell you the buffalo burger was good, but not as good as their regular beef burger. But I cannot provide you with a picture as I forgot to take one for the third time. Must have been the altitude. Or maybe it was the (let's count them) 34 (!) different beers I had (not all of them full pints, though).

Then, on the way back to the hotel, one of the so many homeless people that are in Denver drops two pairs of scissors in the street. Can't understand that one.

Bummer about the Rocky Mountain oysters, though. 

And that's Denver.