My brother moves well for a a relatively husky guy. Chalk one up to a few slivers of athletic prowess but more so to his desire to drink the sweet nectar known as Darkness. Like a first kiss, that initial sip sinks into the brain never to be forgotten. Unless, like some revelers, you chase the long night of camping and strong beer sharing by cracking the orange wax seal and falling in love with the abyss-colored brew. Then you're on your own.
What can one really say about a scene such as Darkness Day? Tents, fire pits, grills, mittens and the ever-present tasting glass of Beer A-Z were just the obvious elements visible as we drove past the congregation of beer geeks and that rare attractive woman thrown in the mix to keep us curious. Never hate on a hot chick, they probably make the world go 'round. And the deep pockets of Donald Trump, of course. We all know our American History X, after all.
My Walrus Arc-3 tent was easy to pitch as we found a spot nestled against concrete, brick and conifers reminiscent of Charlie Brown's plucky li'l Christmas Tree. A shield from rowdy beer geeks was essential as we were accompanied by my brother's girlfriend. She likes a multitude of cool things-- beer, sports, traveling (and apparently my brother) but is less enthusiastic about handsy 40-something dudes pawing at her tresses and attention.
Minnesota Nice is kind of make believe. We are, in fact, a passive-aggressive state quite skilled in the art of acting the part. At Surly, however, genuine niceness was easy to come by and hard to forget. People shared elusive finds such as DFH's World Wide Stout, Founder's Kentucky Breakfast Stout, Pliny Elder + Younger, you name it. Walking the trail up to the main gate and vending area outside of the Surly HQ, one was sure to pass friendly faces alit with warm fires and cold beer. A community of like-minded, buzzed-semi drunk folks all waiting for their piece of the proverbial pie usually ends with the personification of hospitality.
In the end, we bought our fill of six bomber bottles apiece, made some friends, shared and traded some beer, lived it up and slept it off. What we will all remember most is the community, the cold and the success that could later be poured and savored.
I love beer. However, I love the people I choose to crack special bottles with even more. Props to Omar and Surly for making it an event I will attend as long as these knees don't become allergic to the cold and the hipsters from Mpls-St. Paul don't migrate NW to the fabled grounds at Surly Brewing.
P.S. Stay tuned for beer reviews and writing centered around the sights, sounds and suds of the craft beer world.
