The idea stems from two places: First, my wife Keely, my brother Peter, and I were having a conversation late one night over some beer that I can't quite remember... I think it may have been a Rogue Shakespeare Stout. At any rate, we were telling each other the story about the time we had that first beer, the one that gave us The Thirst*. Pete and Keely both had interesting, captivating, and inspiring stories riddled with detail of surroundings, company, etc. Mine was similar, and we were all inspired and excited by each others account of that first beer. I thought it would be neat to hear other people's stories of their first beer. A friend of mine, Aaron Chamberlain, who is a beer enthusiast and beer writer, started a website not too long ago called My Last Pint where he asks people involved in the craft beer industry what the last beer they would drink before they die would be, who it would be with, what they would eat, etc. The stories and answers are always interesting and inspiring. I am a sucker for this concept and Aaron's execution of it is awesome.
So, yes, I am biting Aaron's style a little bit, but I made sure it was cool with him first, and then I set out asking a bunch of folk these questions:
What was your first pint? Who was it with? Where did you drink it? What about the beer and the experience gave you The Thirst?
Getting the answers back from people has been interesting and fun to read. Everyone's experience is different, some built over time, some a distinct moment of revelation, steeped in detail. My first response was from Chris Troutman at BeerTownAustin:
"Poppin' My Craft Cherry or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Beer"
An essay on my eye opening experience with crafted beer by Chris Troutman
As way of introduction, my name is Chris. I am married and have a day job. For fun and in my free time I brew beer in my backyard and run a local beer site in Austin, TX. All these things keep me busy and happy.
I didn't drink at all during high school and not much in college. When I did drink it was fruity, bubbly and sweet. In my college town of Belton, TX good beer was slim pickings. I considered Red Stipe and Dos Equis Amber pretty fancy. I eventually made the move to Shiner Bock and Fat Tire. I was stuck here for a while. It was ok. I even considered myself a pretty educated imbiber. While most of my friends were killing suitcases of Keystone Ice and Miller High Life I was looking down on them from my high tower built of Shiner and Fat Tire bottles. It felt pretty damn good.
I would have stayed aloof on my tower alone if it were not for a job I got in 2005. My buddy hooked me up with a technical training gig for an elections solution company. This afforded me lots of travel. I spent the summer of 2006 jetting between Colorado and Washington state. During these months I tried a lot of new beers. I liked them and sought them out for their "guess what new beer I tried on the road" appeal. I didn't even know what I was drinking half the time.
Then one evening in Chelan County, WA someone shared a Deschutes Black Butte Porter with me and started me on path to respecting, appreciating, brewing and advocating crafted beers.
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| Photo Courtesy of Chris Troutman |
After traveling for several months with only short weekend trips home once or twice a month, I was beginning to lose touch and burn out. I spent more nights in hotels than my own house. More time with strangers than friends. One evening when I was feeling particularly lonely the Chelan County Elections Official invited myself and my coworker out for dinner. She and her husband took us to the small European mountain town of Leavenworth nestled in a river valley. After dinner they invited us out to visit their home and cherry orchard. On the drive there we came upon their son, a train engineer, who stopped his freight train to allow me to ride in the engine with him. He explained that I was seeing parts of the river valley and surrounding mountains that were only accessible by rail. Once we arrived at the cherry orchard they took us on a tour of the grounds, let us soak our feet in the natural irrigation from the river and stand and pick and eat cherries ripe from the trees. It was incredible. Upon returning to the house our host brought out a bowl of fresh picked cherries, some local wine, and a few bottles of Deschutes Black Butte Porter. I normally preferred "lighter" beers, but that night the dark beer seemed right.
Sipping on that porter complimented with fresh ripe Washington cherries surrounded by such gracious hospitality left a lasting impact on me. I'd had good times drinking beers with friends before, but I think it was having this great of an experience with relative strangers that really made it remarkable. I know there were several variables going into the grandness of that evening, but the only one I can still consistently reproduce is the beer. After that evening I had a much different attitude towards beer. It wasn't something that set me apart or made me "better" than other people, it was something magical that could draw me together with other people over a common experience. It wasn't about separation, it was about sharing and coming together.
My first weekend back in town I went to Austin Homebrew Supply and purchased a homebrew kit and began making my own beer. I was still on the road alone and tired for several more months after that, but it was ok.
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