"Beer in Colorado" is dedicated to that divine elixir born of the marriage of water, malt, hops, and yeast as interpreted
by those living in Colorado. Follow the author as he visits every brewery in the state, creates experimental homebrews,
attends beer festivals, tries interesting beers from around the world, and spreads the good word of beer. Prost!

Friday, January 30, 2015

A Sesquicentennial in the Centennial State

It’s scarcely a month old yet it’s been a busy year in beer for me and Nicole.  We’ve hit multiple breweries over the past few weekends and, by doing so, reached a milestone in our mission to imbibe in every brewery in the state.  We’ve reached our Centennial State sesquicentennial: 150 Colorado breweries visited! 

Mu Brewery
Our path to that landmark number began with an eastward jaunt to Aurora’s Mu Brewery.  Now, I’ve been to breweries in the factory district, I’ve been to breweries tucked away in alleys, and I’ve been to breweries in the backwoods of North Carolina where I’d hardly be surprised if the locals complimented my “purdy mouth” but Mu may well take top honors in the sketchy location contest. 

Left to right: Cranberry Pilsner, Blumpkin, Aurora Town Brown, Boone's Maple Cream Porter, & Da Bomb Black IPA

Near the corner of infamous Colfax Avenue and less-than-notable Dayton Street, I was warned about Mu’s neighborhood by my brother and sister-in-law who live in the general area.  In short, they said don’t go there at night.  Intriguing.  Is there actually an area in the Denver metro that’s truly intimidating?  Up until this point, I’ve certainly noticed that certain places around Denver seem rougher than others but none that appeared simply rough.  Not dangerous enough for me to think twice about walking down the street, at any rate.
Inside Mu

Having now been to Mu’s neck of the woods, I’ll say that I would have no qualms in returning—day or night.  But, I’ll stick to the main road.  When Nicole and I turned a corner to park on Dayton, we drove out of the relative safety of commercial Colfax and directly into the mean street: disgruntled and suspicious stares following us as we rolled by, folks drinking mystery liquids from brown paper bags, loiterers propped against chain link fences—it was Clark Griswold’s St. Louis odyssey in real-life (Roll ‘em up!).  To be fair, this particular ‘hood was, like, one block long; once we got to 16th Street things got back to normal.

Mu's bar 
After circling the block and leaving the car in a spot less likely to result in the tires being replaced by cinder blocks, we entered Mu’s storefront taproom.  In stark contrast to its urban surroundings, Mu possesses a sort of old-timey, rustic saloon vibe albeit with a few modern twists such as the metal-cut mountain profile with rotating backlights.  Of course, no amount of homey ambiance will prevent already-drunk patrons from stumbling in and boisterously ordering Bud Light.

The beers at Mu are decent enough.  Many of their offerings leave some room for improvement but I was surprised how much I enjoyed the cranberry pilsner and, despite the disgusting name, the Blumpkin pumpkin beer wasn’t too shabby, either.  Don’t know what “blumpkin” means?  Go to UrbanDictionary.com because I’m not going to explain it to you.  Apparently, the assistant brewer jokingly scrawled the name on the recipe sheets and the head brewer, not understanding that it was a joke, went ahead and made “Blumpkin” the beer’s official appellation.  Also, they offer a blend that’s Blumpkin mixed with one of their darker beers.  They call it the Dirty Blumpkin (as if there were any other kind).


Since we were on that side of town, Nicole and I also dropped into Coda Brewing Co.—only 2.5 miles away but in an entirely different and gentrified world.  At the foot of a condominium near a golf course, Coda’s suburban surroundings stand in stark contrast to Mu’s gritty, down-trodden locale. 

Sleepyhead, a Kolsch 
As unexciting as Coda’s neighborhood might be, the taproom is hip enough to compensate: chalkboard pillars, drinks served in Mason jars and chem lab beakers, stringed festival lights, weathered wood furniture, and, being as it is a music-themed brewery, a stage.  I only had one beer at Coda plus two tasters but that's all I needed to have a high opinion of the brewery.  A spine-shivering Scotch barrel-aged Scotch ale, a nitro American red, and a Kӧlsch brewed with passion fruit were the sometimes-unconventional yet delicious treats that swayed me to Coda’s side.

Left to right: Dogcatcher American Red & McDrums Scotch Ale
With the eastern metro-area wrapped up, the following weekend we set our sights north to Broomfield and our 150th Colorado brewery: Four Noses Brewing Co. and Wonderland Brewing Co.

We rode the desolate prairie of Broomfield’s outskirts, rolling over brown knolls of tallgrass and treeless steppes, finally coming across a commercial strip as featureless as the landscape.  Like Coda, Four Noses doesn’t have much in the way of outward personality.  Also like Coda, though, it’s what’s inside that counts.

Inside Coda
Inside Coda
Cavernous ceilings, like an industrial cathedral, greet drinkers as they walk through Four Noses’ doors.  A looming logo, stretching from floor to ceiling, is painted on the far wall much like the enormous “E” which hangs in Dr. Evil’s lair; lest you forget where you’re drinking, the wall will gladly remind you.  Breaking up the steel structure is an overhang of wooden planks which envelope the center of the room like a rustic cocoon.  The brewing equipment, seemingly too massive for a brewery as young as Four Noses, sits soundly behind glass in the back of the building.  I enjoyed the Anarchy Ale III, a strong English-style IPA; a double English IPA, if you will.  It’s a clever if subtle twist to the style to intensify the usually mild-mannered English IPA or British-ify the American-born double IPA (depends on which way you look at it).

And then it happened.  After leaving Four Noses and jetting across Broomfield, we arrived at what appeared to be a former rec center; the general layout and construction of the building as well as the multi-hoop basketball court by the parking lot seem to suggest that notion, at least.  A rather immense, metal-sheeted building with spacious outdoor seating and open-concept taproom, Wonderland was fittingly grandiose to mark our 150th Colorado brewery visit. 

Spacious patio at Wonderland
Large room for rent at Wonderland
Walking into Wonderland, one notices a gymnasium-sized room for private event to the left and a near-equally expansive taproom to the right.  Granted, half the taproom is devoted to ping-pong tables but, even then, the seating is ample. 

Inside Wonderland
It’s difficult to describe the atmosphere of Wonderland.  In some regards, it feels like a dive bar with its several arcade games, aforementioned table tennis section, diner-style chairs, and vinyl booths.  On the other hand, it exudes the mountain lifestyle with snowboard accent pieces and wood-cut alpine profile behind the bar—a timber version of Mu’s metallic mountains, almost.  On the other other hand, a black ceiling, black tiling, and a stage in one corner make the place feel like a Las Vegas lounge.  It’s a real hodge-podge at Wonderland, nothing seems to be cohesive.  Then again, as it’s themed to the fantastical and ethereal world of Lewis Carroll’s Alice, perhaps the whimsically mix-matched décor is appropriate.

Inside Wonderland
After downing a Vaderade Irish Stout (Vaderade?  Is this the Sith lord’s post-exercise electrolyte replenishment?), Nicole and I left Wonderland satisfied with our accomplishment.  There was a time not long ago where, if we’d visited 150 Colorado breweries, it meant we had visited them all.  It’s a testament to the growing popularity of small and independent brewers that we’re no closer to meeting our goal today than we were when we first set out on this quest.  It’s a Sisyphean task that Nicole and I are on; for every brewery we visit it seems two more pop up.  But that’s okay with me.  I never want this adventure to end.




Tuesday, January 6, 2015

1.1 Miles Away and Worlds Apart

With a new year comes new beer!  Fresh off our temporary conquest of Denver, Nicole and I decided to begin 2015 the best we know how: visiting new breweries.  Since we’d recently ran through all the Mile High City has to offer, we set our sights south, rode C-470 to the ‘burbs, and checked out Living The Dream Brewing Brewing Company (LTD) and Grist Brewing Company.

Living the Dream
Separated by only 1.1 miles, LTD and Grist are in different cities (Littleton and Highlands Ranch, respectively) and worlds apart.  LTD’s in as gritty a locale as one could hope for in an otherwise affluent suburb; it’s off the main road, behind a Murdoch’s ranch supply store, surrounded by landscape company yards, auto body shops, firearms and archery stores, fence post suppliers, and a multitude of other blue collar, rough-neck businesses.  Drive north on Santa Fe Dr. a short distance, turn right, and, suddenly, you’re in the land of Starbucks, national banking firms, chain restaurants, and, shoved into the middle of a blank, corporate-looking building, Grist. 

It looks like a Wal-Mart but, thankfully, Grist has more soul than that

Despite the discrepancy in surroundings, LTD and Grist fit their environments splendidly; once there, you can’t imagine the space without a brewery and, before walking through the door, you get a pretty good idea of the ambiance that awaits in the taproom.

Inside LTD
Inside LTD
For example, when driving up to LTD, one turns into a parking lot and is faced with a metal-sheeted building and a parking lot landmined with pallets of stone pavers, bricks, rock, and other construction material.  A posh, Belgian abbey-inspired ambiance would be inappropriate for such a setting so LTD doesn’t even try to be fancy.  Instead, they play the hand they were dealt and go for more of a secret hangout atmosphere, sort of like a speakeasy; decorative walls only go halfway up, leaving metallic columns and rafters exposed, the table tops are rustic wood, appearing as though they were scavenged for use in a treehouse, and—oh, yes—skis.  Lots and lots of late model skis and snowboards.  The place is covered with them: the beer menu, the bar face, the tap handles, the shelving…etc.  Living The Dream for LTD apparently means brewing beer and hitting the slopes—a fitting dream for any Coloradoan, really.

Inside Grist
Triangular peninsula attached to Grist's bar 
On the other side of the spectrum, there’s Grist.  The laidback, no-frills approach won’t fly when the other occupants of the building are design studios and science labs.  The flight of the approach becomes even more like a cinder block when, in the vicinity, there are golf courses, soccer stadiums, and an equestrian jumping park—the trifecta of WASP sports.  Grist acted accordingly with a rather chic taproom.  First, the brew room is massive and the tanks butt right up to the customer space.  The enormous fermenters tower over the customers, benevolent deities rewarding loyal subjects with the nectar of their bodies.  The bar is a jagged island in the center of the room with catwalk-style storage hanging from the ceiling.  A clever touch at the bar: triangular peninsulas that add extra seating and allow customers to actually look at each other instead of being forced to face the same direction.  A bold, yellow feature wall with a light-up sign, large, windowed garage doors, and worn-wood accent pieces make Grist a lively but clean-cut place to quaff.

Brew equipment at LTD
Brew equipment at Grist
If there’s a common link between LTD and Grist, it’s the beer.  For being a touch removed from the craft beer epicenter that is Denver, both are cranking out some damn decent brews.  At LTD, I enjoyed a flight of Arrogant Hipster Lager, Alt Whitman, C-470 Collaboration Weizenbock, and Helluva Caucasian Cream Stout with peanut butter. 

Left to right: Arrogant Hipster, Alt Whitman, C-470, & Helluva Caucasian 
The Arrogant Hipster is intended to be the craft version of PBR and, based on the taste, I’d say they achieved that goal; everybody should brew something light and easy for when beer geeks drag their craft-adverse friends to the brewery.  Getting non-craft drinkers into the taproom is step one, getting them to drink a gateway beer like Arrogant Hipster is step two.  With a few more steps, our domestic lager-guzzling friends will be downing quadrupels and Russian imperial stouts like a champ.  I only hope a certain southern California brewery doesn't get its panties in a twist over the use of the word "arrogant."  

Beer menu at LTD
Alt Whitman is a typical, malt-forward Altbier although, just to stir things up a bit, the version I enjoyed was brewed with lager yeast rather than ale yeast, making it not a hybrid ale but rather a plain, old lager.  A good beer, to be sure, but hardly memorable.  It’s a middle-ground road for when you want something more complex than Arrogant Hipster but don’t feel like committing to anything extravagant, either. 

Weizenbocks are one of my least favorite beers but I ordered C-470 anyway if only for the story.  In a nutshell, it’s a collaboration beer amongst the breweries along the eponymous highway: LTD, Grist, Blue Spruce Brewing Company, Lone Tree Brewing Company, 38 State Brewing Company, 3 Freaks Brewery, C.B. & Potts, and Rock Bottom.  Can we call the C-470 neighborhood the next Denver-area brewery neighborhood (using the word “neighborhood” loosely, of course; these eight breweries represent four separate and independent towns)?  The resulting beer features a dominant chocolate flavor with banana-like undertones.  For a style I don’t like, I actually did enjoy this one.    
Inside LTD

Helluva Caucasian was by the far the best, though.  A decadent and creamy stout, the addition of peanut butter really helped knock this one out of the park.  I don’t know if LTD has any plans to can or bottle in the future but they should start with this one.  It’s basically liquefied Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups

At Grist, I once again had a flight: Winter Saison, American Barleywine, Juniper Berry Belgian Single, and Berliner Weisse.

Left to right: Winter Saison, Juniper Berry Belgian Single, American Barleywine, & Berliner Weisse

If there’s a beer with a more pleasant smell than Winter Saison, I’ve not come across it.  It’s a big whiff of cinnamon sweetness and, while the flavor’s okay, it’s hard to beat that aromatic opening act.

American Barleywine is over 10% ABV but you can’t tell by drinking it, it hides the alcohol well; no burn, no punch, it slips down your throat with ease.  American barleywines and double IPAs are considered close relatives in the beer world and this one definitely straddles the line.  It’s perhaps a bit under-hopped to be a double IPA but only barely.

In the Juniper Berry Belgian Single, the reverse of Winter Saison is true: the flavor outshines the aroma.  Stick your nose in this beer and you’ll shrug your shoulders in a “so what?” manner.  Then, give it a sip and your palate is treated to a medley of Belgian spices and fruits.  Yes, the juniper beery makes a showing, too, but is most apparent near the end of the taste.

I’ve had a lot of Berliner Weisses in my day, they’re among my favorite styles of beer.  Although they’re famously tart, quite a few are lacking in the acidity department.  I don’t like that.  I like a nice, pucker-inducing Berliner Weisse.  Some beer geeks identify themselves as hop heads, I’m a sour head.  That’s why I enjoyed Grist’s version so well; it clenches your lips quicker than a Krazy Glue lollipop.

I’m amazed at how diverse two breweries can be when they’re so close in proximity.  It’s heartening, too, as it supports a personal crusade I’ve been waging in recent years, a crusade against the false notion of brewery oversaturation. I’ve made many points in support of my stance and I won’t repeat them all but I will say that, if two breweries are different enough, they can be located directly next door to each other and still coexist.  In my mind, breweries are no different than restaurants yet nobody’s beating a dead horse over restaurant oversaturation. Why?  Because each restaurant offers something a little different from the next one.  And so do breweries.  So long as there’re not, like, 15 Italian restaurants/Belgian-style breweries in a quarter mile radius, so long as each establishment is at least a little unique when compared to the next one, the market will continue to grow and prosper.



Live that dream, folks!
Grist's massive brew space
Why more Colorado breweries don't do things like this is beyond me; craft beer and quaffing the freshies is what this state does best.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

2014: The Year of the Beer

As Nicole and I look forward to a fresh, new year we look back on the past 12 months of our lives and reflect upon all the sudsy good times we had both in Colorado and away.

Here are the bottle cap cuff links the groomsmen, my dad, and I wore for the ceremony; the bridesmaids had similarly-designed earrings

Nicole's extraordinary!

A happy New Year to you and yours!  May your 2015 be filled with good cheer and even better beer.  I look forward to next year’s boozy adventures.



Monday, December 29, 2014

Re-Conquering Denver Before the New Year

It’s the end of the year and time is running out!  Here’s a quick and dirty post about Zephyr Brewing Co., Fiction Beer Company, and Creede Brewing Company—the last three Denver breweries Nicole and I had yet to visit.  Going into 2015, we can say for the third time that we’ve conquered all the Denver breweries. 

Zephyr Brewing Co.

Thoughts on the space: Yet another brewing addition to the River North (RiNo) neighborhood, Zephyr is located on the garden level of a multi-tenant building at the corner of Walnut and 26th Street.  Sunken into the earth, it’s a pseudo-basement and feels like a venue for a hardcore punk rock concert with its exposed pipes and concrete walls.  Despite the industrial nature of the space, it retains a warm and welcoming ambiance with a glass garage door letting in a surprising amount of light as well as a massive, curved bar decorated to look like a barrel.
Inside Zephyr

Thoughts on the beer: Sampling three beers, the stand-out was Dark Chocolate Raspberry stout.  It tastes just like it sounds: dessert in a glass.

General thoughts: Another brewery in RiNo?  Yes, and here’s hoping a lot more move in.  I love the concept of a brewery neighborhood.  A brewery city (e.g. Denver) is great but the convenience and, for lack of a better word, coolness of having so many beer-makers in a single, defined area is hard to beat.  RiNo is Denver’s beer showcase to the rest of the world.  If you beercation in Denver, please check out lots and lots of different neighborhoods but remember this paraphrased Elitch Gardens slogan: “not to drink in RiNo is not to drink in Denver.”        

Fiction Beer Company

Thoughts on the space:  Three walls-worth of windows makes Fiction, a book-themed brewery, quite dissimilar to the dark canyons of shelves and catacomb-esque study rooms of a traditional library.  This bright and airy taproom features comfy leather seats, lively artwork, and, yes, books.  In fact, the entire front of the bar is faced in hardcovers.  Don’t worry, bibliophiles, I checked a number of the titles used in the bar’s construction and it doesn’t appear as though they actually used any “good” books.  The world won’t be any worse off with one less Sue Grafton novel in it. 

Left to right: 42, Communal Synergy, & Autumn Stars, a pumpkin saison

Thoughts on the beer: Green Tea Chocolate Milk Stout is a minty delight and Communal Synergy, a double IPA, was surprisingly tasty.  With so many IPAs on the market, it’s hard to get noticed in the crowd but  Communal Synergy caught my attention nonetheless.  It wasn’t anything unusual; it was just really, really good and fresh.  I have no qualms putting it in my top ten list of favorite double IPAs. 42, a bourbon porter brewed with 33 pounds of maple syrup, 30 pounds of donuts from Glazed & Confused, and 27 pounds of donut glaze sounds like a wild and wacky beer but the flavors are actually quite traditional.  It’s a decent beer but, with a backstory like that, I’d prefer a little more pizzazz.

Fiction's bar
General thoughtsBoth Fiction and Lost Highway claim to be the first Denver brewery to open on Colfax.  One of you is lying!  And, if my quick Google research is to be believed, Lost Highway is the fibber.  It looks as though Lost Highway opened on September 26th of this year and Fiction six days earlier on the 20th.  Not that it matters; they’re both exceptional breweries; But, there can be only one first.  Unless they both opened at the same time on the same day.  Which they did not. 

Creede Brewing Company

Creede is pretty hard to spot from the road
Thoughts on the space:  Way up north in unincorporated Denver, off an unpopulated stretch of Washington Street, sits Creede at the end of a nondescript strip mall.  There’s not much on the outside that lets you know there’s a brewery in there, especially with cars parked in front blocking the low-hung banner.  Once inside, the taproom is small and simple with a moderately-sized bar in front of a modest walk-in cooler.  Wooden tables, Old West-style photos on the wall, and a smattering of Denver Broncos paraphernalia fill-out the rest of the space.

Inside Creede
Thoughts on the beer:  Being located in the boondocks and in a shopping center that time forgot, Creede’s in an inauspicious and unknown location.  Who would expect good beer to come from there?  Those who search, however, are rewarded with a true hidden gem.  Creede is pumping out some very interesting brews like an IPA made with an experimental, as-yet-named hop variety boasting strong tropical fruit aromas and a powerful, bitter bite as well as a tart peach ale and a chili ale that can be ordered straight or with a splash of the house Bloody Mary mix. 

General thoughts:  In most businesses, it’s location, location, location.  Not so with the brewing industry, there are plenty of tucked-away breweries in Denver: Wit’s End, Strange, CAUTION, DeSteeg,…etc.  Creede is in good company and, so long as they keep brewing innovative beers, local beer geeks will keep making the trek up to that isolated beer oasis.

Quite a creative beer menu at Creede 

All these breweries deserve an entire post dedicated to them but time waits for no man and I wanted to give them at least some credit before we hit the New Year.  Sparse though this post may be, there’s an easy and fun way to accrue more information on each of these breweries: go visit them!



Artwork at Fiction

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

A Mini Brew Tour of Colfax

Colfax Avenue.  Running through Golden, Lakewood, Denver, and Aurora, it’s America’s longest commercial street and, prior to the interstate system, the cities’ main thoroughfares.  Jack Kerouac referenced it in On the Road and, because of the street’s notoriety for burn-outs and prostitutes, Playboy once deemed Colfax “the longest, wickedest street in America.”  On a more innocent note, Colfax also serves as a nostalgia preserve, showcasing our country’s motoring history even if said history is in a decrepit state; flickering neon signs, old-school motor lodges (now seedy motels), and 50’s style diners both authentic and recreated line the 26.1 mile stretch of pavement.  Smattered between those relics of the past are popular concert venues, marijuana dispensaries, and dive bars but, for all its reputation, Colfax Avenue was, until recently, devoid of Denver’s most famous industry: craft brewing.

Mu Brewery opened on Colfax in late July, 2014, thus ushering craft beer onto Denver’s most (in)famous street.  Other brewers eventually followed suit and, since Mu’s opening, three more Colfax breweries have opened for business (and that doesn’t even count Coda Brewing Co., situated only 0.5 miles [by the crow flies] from that roadway of questionable repute).  Over Thanksgiving break, Nicole and I visited two of these newcomers.

Inside Alpine Dog
Lately, Nicole and I have been hitting brewery grand openings (i.e. Mockery & FERMÆNTRA) but we missed Alpine Dog Brewing Company’s big night by half a week.  Nonetheless, it remains the freshest face on Colfax (even if the address technically has it on Ogden Street) and in the entire city.

I've seen lots of chairs made of skis, I've only seen one with a binding cup holder
Located in a space made available by the downsizing of the neighboring music store and seated on one of the grittiest streets in the nation, Alpine Dog is among the most urban of Denver’s breweries.  The décor, though, is anything but urban.  In fact, the name “Alpine Dog” refers to Colorado’s mountain adventurers—skiers, boarders, bikers, hikers, and climbers (not ski bikers, though; they’re stupid).  The brewery shows admiration for the wild and rugged landscape looming to the west of town, honoring a wholly different world from the tarmac and depravity of Colfax.  Alpine Dog’s an island of mountain life amid a sea of inner-city grime.

The two sides of Alpine Dog—its nature-loving and city-slicking sides—mesh better than you might think.  In some regards, the brewery’s quite modern with its enormous, storefront windows, shiny metal chairs, and concrete floor.  In other regards, photos of extreme mountain athletes and a corner full of chairs and benches fabricated from discarded skis and snowboards encapsulates the high country.  The wood on the tables and walls straddles a line; it showcases a natural grain pattern but it’s also smoothed to a fine finish.  A metrosexual lumberjack might use this wood in his log loft. 

We only stayed for a single beer since we were scheduled to meet Nicole’s aunts later that night but the IPA is a solid example of the style and certainly worth a try.  Nicole liked it and she doesn’t normally go for the big, hoppy beers. 

Our second stop on the Colfax beer trail was Lost Highway Brewing Company.  Next to Cheeky Monk and owned by the same folks, the brewery’s name is a reference to Colfax itself, demoted as it was from major highway to lowly city street after the completion of I-70.  It is a highway no more; it’s been lost in the dust of interstate construction. 

The first thing patrons notice when approaching Lost Highway is the signage which pays homage to the glory days of Colfax and, to a larger extent, America.  The neon sign with arrow indicating the entrance (the arrow appropriately sporting highway stripes) harkens back to the days when families packed up the station wagon and toured this great land Clark Griswold-style.  Those were the pre-Thule days when people simply strapped their luggage to the roof of the car, stopping at every roadside attraction and sending brightly-colored postcards from each tourist trap.  It’s not a completely wholesome memory the sign evokes, though; Lost Highway’s logo—a beret-wearing skull—also recalls a certain counterculture, beatnik attitude born from Kerouac’s era and still, in some form, surviving today.  Even if similar signs do exist on Colfax (my favorite being the one at “Big Bunny” hotel which, if you look closely, clearly used to say “Bugs Bunny” until they were likely hit with a copyright lawsuit), Lost Highway’s is the only one pointing to an establishment law-abiding citizens feel comfortable entering. 

Lost Highway brew equipment
The second thing patrons notice about Lost Highway is the patio.  The wall dividing the outdoor drinking space from the public sidewalk is abnormally tall and topped with iron spikes.  The floor-to-ceiling garage door opening into the taproom sits several yards behind this fortification.  Lost Highway might be on Colfax but the brewery’s wisely taken measures to keep Colfax from getting in.

Nobody's getting through that barricade 
Once inside, the taproom is as charming and welcoming as is possible.  Brick walls envelope the space, the brew equipment sits behind glass like an expensive art display, steel lintels separate rooms, and the beer menu’s presented in among the cleverest fashion I’ve seen—the wall behind the bar is sheeted in metal, the beer names written out in those plastic, magnetic letters used by children learning to spell.  It’s a creative, colorful, and whimsical touch.

Tap menu at Lost Highway
I enjoyed the 520 Copper Ale, Nicole sampled the Longest, Wickedest Wit and Golden Ghost and, as I bustled about taking photos for this blog, the brewer, T.J. Compton (incidentally, one gangsta-ass name), noticed my flitting about and offered me a quick behind-the-scenes tour.  I got a peek at the brew room, the future barrel room, and what I’m calling The B.S. Room—a place to drink and curse and argue the finer points that separate German-style and Bohemian-style Pilsners without disturbing and/or boring customers.  Apparently, during the last GABF, Lost Highway hosted a few visiting brewers and the beer debates in that room got heated and very, very nerdy.  While I don’t expect or deserve special treatment when I visit breweries, I do appreciate T.J. extending the offer.   

Left to right: Golden Ghost, 520, & Longest, Wickedest Wit (ignore the suggestive placement of the glasses)

Nicole and I had to scurry out of Lost Highway to meet her aunts but, even though our visits to both breweries were brief, I’m confident Alpine Dog and Lost Highway will prove to be two great new additions to the scandalous street.  So, after going to a concert, buying legal weed (or illegal other drugs), and picking up a few hookers, indulge in Colfax’s newest claim to fame and have yourself a craft beer.



Cap art at Alpine Dog
Inside Lost Highway
One day, this will be Lost Highway's barrel room