What did you want to be when you grew up? An astronaut?
A truck driver? A dinosaur
wrangler? Many people aspired to be firefighter. And why not?
They carry an axe, they drive a rad truck, and there’s a reason many
playgrounds include a fireman’s pole on their jungle gyms—they’re fun! Alas, as time slipped away, dreams of Dalmatians,
fiery rescues, and asking motorists to put money in a big, rubber boot faded
into the ether. Next thing you know, you’re
crammed in a cubicle with a noose-like necktie and a Machiavellian
manager/overlord who’s ready to give you the old heave-ho the minute you miss
your quota. This is your life now. Somewhere along the line, you traded in a
Nomex jacket for a three-piece suit and you traded in firehouse chili for a
sad, little bologna-on-white-bread sandwich wrapped in plastic (you write your
name on it but somebody still keeps
stealing it from the break room fridge!).
The flicker of fluorescents a mocking reminder of the flames you dreamt
of dousing.
There’s hope yet.
There’s a chance for you to resurrect your youthful ambition—albeit briefly—and
enjoy a nice glass of beer while you’re at it.
I speak of Denver’s newest brewery, Station 26 Brewing Co., built in the
remnants of an old firehouse.
Way out east in the Stapleton neighborhood, Station
26 is situated just off Quebec Street between the tent-shaped Renaissance Denver Hotel and Martin Luther King, Jr. Park.
The exterior remains largely unchanged from its years as an operational
firehouse: a wall of garage doors from which fire engines once roared out in
pursuit of conflagrations, towers and antennae housing all manner of equipment,
and simple, no-nonsense brick walls.
Indeed, if one were to remove the word “Brewing” from the front of the
building, the place would look much as it did prior to its suds-slinging days.
Cherrywood-Smoked Golden Ale (the red wall is actually a fire hose) |
No heroes will be sliding down this pole |
The interior continues the theme although in a more
stylized fashion. For example, the wall
on which the taps are attached is, in fact, covered with a deflated red fire
hose. The brass poles countless
firefighters have slid down are intact (even if the holes in the ceiling have
been filled in) and the under-bar coat hooks are actually industrial-grade pipe faucets. The communal tables, while not
exactly fire-related, look great with their butcher-block tops and the shiny,
metal brewing tanks—in full view from the taproom—are an impressive substitute
for the laddered vehicles which once idled in the same space.
While we didn’t have much time to spend, Nicole and I
squeezed in a couple of brews including Cherrywood-Smoked Golden Ale, a beer
that’s not technically a rauchbier yet still possesses an undeniable smoky
quality. It isn’t the intense, BBQ
flavor oft found in rauchbiers. It’s a
subtle smoke, not an asphyxiating one.
Peel off that oxygen mask, you won’t need it with this beer.
As we took in the ambiance, Nicole and I overheard
the bartenders converse about their hopes of drawing in out-of-town cowboys and
ranchers from the National Western Stock Show (Nicole and I did pass a lot of horse trailers on our
way to Station 26; they’re definitely in the area). That got me wondering about craft beer’s
target audience. On one hand, I imagine
salt-of-the-earth folks drink nothing but the same ‘Merican beer their pappy
drank on the old homestead’s front porch, none of that hoity-toity, artsy-fartsy
craft beer junk (never minding that many of those craft beers are truly American while most macrobeers are
majority owned by foreign interests). On
the other hand, we’re also talking about rodeo riders, here: risk-takers,
adventurers, manly-men. If they got the
guts to strap themselves onto a 2,000 pound, horned quadruped with a bad
attitude or un-ironically wear a bolo tie in public then what excuse do they
have for not trying a different beer from time to time? I know that Elevation Beer Co., rodeo
grounds adjacent, gets a lot of cowboy clientele (of course, they pretty much
stick to the 8 Second Kӧlsch, hardly dabbling in the more advanced stuff) so why not
Station 26? Stock Show attendees
certainly represent a tough demographic for craft beer to crack but it’s not an
impossible endeavor and it’s important to open up new markets so that craft
beer can continue to grow. Now, we just
need to wrap about eight rolls of duct tape around Toby Keith’s head so he can
never again spout the asinine philosophy that “you sir do not have a pair of testicles / If you prefer drinkin' from glass” thus poisoning the minds of
these potential craft customers.
Whether you’re a buckaroo, a wannabe firefighter, or
somebody who just plain likes beer, Station 26 is the place to be. Have a seat, have a beer, and, if you’re
lucky, you’ll find the marble in the oatmeal and get to drink from the firehose (don’t ask me to explain, just click the link).
Prost!
Chris
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