A fun tribute

The evening of my fathers Memorial Service I decided that we really needed to do some kind of tribute to the old man. One befitting the ole gun slingers love of all things guns. A tribute aside from our consistent daily attempts at filling an entire recycle trash can with green and brown 12 oz containers.

The first couple of nights in town I slept in his gun room and every morning the first thing I'd see when I woke up (well, besides my beautiful bride of course) was an old can of black powder sitting on his book shelf next to one of his quick draw trophies and an old bayonet that he must have picked up at some gun show or found out in the desert.

At dusk I grabbed that can off the shelf...found his stash of other reloading powder to use for a fuse and set out to make a mushroom cloud in the street in front of the house. The fuse material proved to be a bit slower burning than I'd anticipated but that turned out to be a good thing as camera operators and the saluting toasts of the bystanders weren't quite as ready as they thought they were. We also burned up a few boxes of some old sparklers I found whilst looking for his powder supply. Judging by the age of the sparklers I think the old man must have gotten them from Poncho Villa.
After much anticipation the half pound conical tower of black powder did it's thing, mildly surprised a few skeptics and bringing a smile to everyone's face.

"That's gonna leave a mark" which just like my Dad ..... was an understatement.

Here's to you Dad

On the first day of the year 2010 my Father, Chuck Lybarger, passed away in his own home ... in his own bed. He succeeded in his ardent desire to die at home and not in some hospital bed. He was 138 days shy of his 79th birthday.

Technically speaking Chuck was my step-father and I only mention that to explain the difference in our last names. Other wise it was never an issue. Considering that he became my Dad when I was just five days past my fourth birthday it's easy to understand why.

That's not to say we always saw eye to eye and got along well .... in my teenage years and early adult life we were always at odds and tended to avoid each other. Despite our animosity and feuds I'm proud to say neither of us ever brought up our lack of matching DNA, not once ... ever. Sometimes it seemed it was the only thing we got right between us.

In my Little League years we actually got along famously..... he always made sure I had the best glove on the team and despite his lack of history playing sports always had time to play some catch with me, especially if I had a game to warm up for.

As I related during his memorial service on January 6th the only thing he ever held against me (and supposedly wouldn't forgive me for) was the fact that I hit my first Little League home run in the one and only game he ever missed. He joked and chided me about that until his last days.

I was also the first kid in my neighborhood to get a 10-speed bike that possessed some contraption called a derailleur that made the gears change. He spent nearly a half weeks wages putting that French bicycle under the Christmas tree for me.

So ya...he was a very generous and giving soul that truly enjoyed surprising his loved ones, going above and beyond the expected and making them happy. His yearly Christmas gifts to my Mother are legendary.

I realize now how unfortunate it was that he was never quite as generous with himself throughout his life. He had episodes of drinking and violence that he would later deeply regret. Yet despite these grey and turbulent times he never faltered in his mission of providing first and foremost for his family.

I used to joke that I learned from him a great many things NOT to do, but the fact of the matter he provided much of the framework that I live by and have passed to my own children. His absolute refusal in taking any unwarranted crap from anyone was instilled in me early on and has generally served me well over the years.

One of my favorite things he left with me is my understanding and appreciation of firearms. From and early age he set down some carved-in-stone safety and handling procedures that are as spot on and pertinent today as they were in 1958 when he started teaching them to me. I passed these learning's onto my own kids as well and fully expect they will do the same for their own offsprings when the time comes.

Over the years I have also come to realize the simple fact that kids need their parents to love each other no matter what happens between them. This was always the case with my parents despite the envelopes that we all pushed from time to time. I've always been grateful for that.

I suppose I could go on and on about my old man, especially about his 9 lives and all of his amazing array of health problems, family drama's and totalled vehicles but I will leave that for the spoken word stories and the retelling of his life....which I suspect will be going on for a long time to come.

Thanks Dad...... I miss you already.

Happy Birthday Rick ... Pub Crawl

It was Rick's birthday on December 27th (amazingly like it seems to be most years) and so naturally all he wanted for turning 33 years old was a local Pub Crawl. With his Mom visiting from Oregon and willing to be the designated Driver it seemed like a natural excuse for some excessive drinking on a Holiday Sunday.
Rick, Tracy, Dave and Mom were joined for the opening 1pm salvo's at CONSTABLE JACK'S in Newcastle by Jeff Scammon and a few of the Sober's....MS, Terri, Zack and Oralia. After a quick couple of Chimay's and Schneiderweisse Dunkels we were off to Auburn to the newly opened WORLD PUB at the corner of HWY 49 and Bell Road. Once ensconced in the friendly confines of the WP the group grew ever larger as Cody and Breann Sober, Brewmaster Peter Hoey and beer guru Martin Loudall all joined in the celebration. Video Bowling, Darts and take-out Mexican food helped to enhance the festivities even further. The WP has a nice 20 tap selection as well as an impressive array of bottled beer to choose from. The Birthday Boy seemed to be doing pretty well at that point...still drinking from a pint glass and hardly spilling much beer on his shirt at all.
After a couple of enjoyable hours we had to finally bid WP owner Eric adieu and traveled the short distance to our next stop......PISTOL PETE'S BREW and CUE on Harrison Street near the Liquor Outlet.
At Pete's the Beer du jour turned out to be some very fresh Racer 5 which Rick decided tasted much better straight from the Pitcher. A few more of the the expanded S.O.B.E.R. group regulars showed up as well and the party continued on. Pizza, Pool and bad to marginal DJ music was the backdrop of the evening at Pete's and a splendid time was had by all.
Pete's was the end of the line for many of the crawlers ....but not for the Birthday lad who took the opportunity to hoof it from downtown to Old Town where we met up again for some final PU-240 double IPA's at the AUBURN ALE HOUSE.
I don't remember too much after that......and I'm not sure Rick does either. But one thing is certain...it was good times to remember...and maybe to be forgetting portions of...depending upon your perspective. I'm just glad I was there....and I doubt I am alone in that sentiment.
Happy Birthday Porno Boy.... Oh .... and sorry about the Rose Bowl.

Dick Dale Surfs into Auburn

Well.....the legendary Dick Dale actually flew his private plane into Auburn to perform a show Saturday night at the Auburn Event Center; But to hear Dick tell it he almost actually did fly into Auburn having made his initial decent without remembering to put his landing gear down. Apparently an alert passenger/instructor saved the day by ordering him around for another pass to correct the situation thus avoiding the possible disaster. At 72 years old the "King of the Surf Guitar" is still going strong....but I doubt a belly landing on a cold Auburn morning would have done much to enrich his current West Coast tour.
It was the fourth or fifth time I've seen Dick, so to speak, and once again he didn't fail to thoroughly entertain me and all the other Dick Heads in attendance. Having never been a truly rabid Grateful Dead fan I could never really call myself a Dead Head...but I will admit to gladly being know as one of Mr. Dale's legions of Dick Heads....a term he lovingly throws around accompanied by his patented smirky grin.
Dick's show, for those of you who are uninitiated, is a loud and intense eclectic layered mixture of original heavy metal surf style guitar tunes and patented original cover versions of songs....the likes of wish you will never hear done in an even remotely similar fashion. "House of the Rising Sun" , Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire" and a tribute to Ray Charles classic "Say What?" are a few that come to mind.
Dick's well oiled three piece band seldom even pauses between numbers...preferring to continue the upside down left handed Stratocaster onslaught in rapid fire order, save for the occasional personal story from Dick or to introduce the Drummer or bass player.
Dick's original instrument was the drums and he delves into that area a couple of times...assisting the drummer on one of his solos and also banging out a tune with drum sticks on the strings of the bass guitar...naturally as the bass player is playing it!
And of course he always remembers to play his signature tune Miserlou which never fails to turn the crowd into a frenzy bunch of pimply screaming adolescences for a couple of minutes. Dick even breaks out the trumpet for the occasion.
So ya....if you ever get a chance to see Dick in person I highly recommend it......he is an original...the likes of which we will likely never see again.

Home Sweat Home

Well....actually getting home WAS a bit of a sweat....between the over extended stay at Pizza Port San Clemente on Monday and the unfortunate conversation with the CHP on Tuesday it took us about a day and a half to return North from our Southern excursion.
Somehow, despite all the drinking, traveling, drinking, visiting, drinking, Football games, tail- gating, drinking, Thanksgiving meals, coffee roasting and brewery visiting we managed to make it home with about eight growlers and a case of beer in 22oz bottles.
Terri and I visited Sequoia Brewing in Fresno as well as Ballast Point and Alpine in San Diego and of course Pizza Port San Clemente on the day we were originally scheduled to return home. Fortunately we DID stop in San Clemente because there were some bottles of Hop 15 and Port 3rd Anniversary Ale that had our names on them.
Another highlight of the trip for me was the pint of Coronado Brewing Red Devil Imperial Red I had at PP.... which at 10% abv reminded me of the legendary LogSpliter that Sequoia Brew Master Kevin Cox has produced in years past. Had I know about that beer I would have surely taken that off-ramp to Coronado Island that I bypassed earlier in the day. Oh well...so much beer and so little time available.
Our Ballast Point stop provided us with a case of scrumptious Sculin IPA and a high priced growler of Dorado Double IPA. I also had a sample of their Imperial Porter Victory at Sea but like some overspending cheap ass fool I failed to secure any bottles to bring home. Despite the $7.99 price tag I highly recommend it should anyone actually find any in Nor-Cal .... or anywhere else for that matter.
Naturally the biggest and most anticipated brewery visit of the entire trip was Alpine Brewing. We filled 20 growlers of their finest offerings including Pure Hoppiness, Duet, Nelson and O'Brien's IPA. While we were basking in the glow of Alpine Hops my sons Cody and Zack along with their beautiful brides Breann and Oralia were visiting Green Flash Brewing in Vista. They filled up 8 or so growlers and were treated like royalty by Brewer Chuck Silva's friendly crew who hooked them all up with custom Green Flash Brewing T-shirts. Along with growlers of Hop Head Red, West Coast IPA and Imperial they managed to secure some of the elusive Palette Wrecker that I had been hoping to try. It did not disappoint.
Somehow we also managed to squeeze in a visit to the legendary Hamilton's and the new Toronado of San Diego. Both places lived up to the hype and I could have spent a lot more time in each establishment. Both highly recommended.
Our late and unexpected stop at Red Shoe Roasting in Rancho Oak Hills was also a highlight of the trip and filled our trunk with a really obscene amount of mega quality fresh roasted beans from all over the globe. Thanks to some large Sasquatch type man who shall remain nameless we also were able to share in the sampling of a couple of bottles of Double IPA from Utah.
Since it Tis the Xmas season I suspect that these eight or so growlers I have left will be history before long.....now all I need is a sponsor and I'm ready to go on another round of growler gathering. A hearty thanks to all who housed, helped and joined us in any part of our great turkey weekend adventure ..... you certainly know who you are.

Time to "Go South young man"

Yes it is once again that time of year, the leaves are turning, the air is gaining that crisp rine of early morning dewness and the trunk of my car is heavily weighted down with a couple of ice chests containing many ounces of quality Northern California Craft brew.
Yes of course that means it's time to head South for the annual Kansas City Chargers versus San Diego Chiefs football game. Hopefully you caught that name swapping there, just checking to see if you were awake or just skimming through...or maybe looking ahead to check out the inevitable growler and bottle list.
For convenience purposes we had the NFL once again schedule the game on the same weekend as Thanksgiving so we could just take a week off work and combine the two events into one giant family and friends free for all.
I know, I know... just list the beers and shut up.....OK here we go. listed in no particular order

Growlers;
6 - Pliny the Elder - Russian River
6 - Blind Pig - Russian River (oddly we filled up 16 growlers on our Santa Rosa visit but apparently only 12 are making the trip South)
4 - Gold Digger IPA - Auburn Ale House
2 - Fools Gold - Auburn Ale House
2 - Hop Rod Rye - Bear Republic (we hoped to find some Racer X on our visit to Healdsburg but were greeted with snarky laughter when asked if any was available)
1 - Hopsickle - Moylans
1 - General Sherman IPA - Sequoia Brewing

Bottles:
2 - Hop Stoopid - Lagunitas (one of the great bargains at a mere $3.79 for a 22oz bottle at Total Wine and More)
2 - A Little Sumpin Extra - Lagunitas
1 - Smoked Porter - Alaskin Brewing (OK ...not quite Nor Cal....but must have)
1 - Abyss - Deschutes
2 - Racer 5 - Bear Republic
1 - Rorie's Ale - Odonada Brewing
2 - Lost Continent - Grand Teton
2 - UberHoppy - Valley Brewing
1 - Harvest - Sierra Nevada Brewing
12 - Franziskaner - Spaten (well... hard to find a good Hefe down that way)

Seems like there might be a few more stashed in and among the growlers and ice.....but who's counting exactly anyway...... the main idea is to just share the good times with family and friends and it certainly doesn't suck if you can add a pint or four to the festivities right?

OK then... I'm off to bed to dream of rumours and promises of locally grown desert double IPA's saved and stashed away for the occasion.

This trip is dedicated to Dian Scammon....a very good friend who's sudden departure from this world on November 15th has left us all a bit shaken and feeling the void. We never did get to have those last Irish Car Bombs we talked about. Until Such Time my friend.

Iceland....the land of hops?

When I was a kid I used to dream of visiting the geographic extremes of Greenland and Iceland, home of historical Viking adventures shrouded in foggy winds of Northern Seas mystery and myth.

Although my childhood fantasy of visiting those far flung icy lands has never wavered, my practical knowledge of those extreme Northern locals, specifically Iceland, has increased with the years and the notion that I will one day roam those cold shores of volcanic upheaval. I will definitely be bringing along my half liter mug.

Iceland, for those who may not be aware, is basically a huge chunk of volcanic excrement squeezed up from battling tectonic plates just South of the Arctic Circle between Europe and North America. The beauty of the place is that it sits directly in the path of the temperate flow of the Gulf Stream. It is basically where the Gulf stream goes to chill out.

Due to the relative warmth of the Gulf Stream Iceland is much more inhabitable and vibrant than any lands of it's latitude (65N) around the globe... like for instance Antarctica.

And while to my knowledge there are no hop farms on the Ross Ice Shelf there are great Hops to be found growing on the Southern edges of Iceland.

Prohibition in Iceland began in 1918 and survived in varying degrees until it's final removal on March 1st 1989. A date now known, and vigorously celebrated every year, as Beer Day.

Since that time the three major Icelandic brewers, as well as the small contingent of craft brew enthusiasts have utilized the locally grown hops in all their Pilsners and Lagers.

The relatively short cool summer growing season is enhanced by the long summer sunlight hours. It is believed that the hops thrive due to the Basalt low silica soil that is virtually a match for the lava type found halfway across the planet in the Hawaiian Islands. The hops are irrigated from the pristine waters of the Vatnajokull Ice Cap. The largest glacier in all of Europe.

The most commonly grow and heartiest of the Icelandic Lupulins is the Norse which weighs in with nice earthy and floral characteristics and a decent 7.5 alpha rating. Viking gold at 6.8 and the less produced but highly coveted Arnarson Hekla typically top out in the 6-6.5 alpha range. The Arnarson Hekla is the favorite bittering hop used in the production of the traditional Spring Porters that are a big part of the March 1st Beer Day celebrations.

To date no exportation of Icelandic Hops exists but I plan to continue my quest to get some samples drop shipped to me from one of the Reykjavik home brew shops so I can try out my Great Uncle Halldo'rs "Erik the Red" Strong Ale recipe