Courtesy of Ethan Erlich
Running on Hops: A Whirlwind Tour of Vermont Breweries
OBSESSED
Last September, I was obsessed with beer. More specifically, I was obsessed with beer brewed in Vermont. For four days, I rode my BMW 1150 GS motorcycle around Vermont's hills and farms, over covered bridges and on dirt roads, with a single mission: to visit every brewery in the state.
THE CHALLENGE
For the past several years, I have scheduled a week-long New England ride into my vacation calendar. I usually take this vacation in early autumn, after schools are back in session and before the really cold weather arrives. This annual trip is a highlight of my year, but this year I wanted to give myself a little more focus. I read about the Vermont Brewery Challenge on the Vermont Brewer's Association website (www.vermontbrewers.com). The terms of the Challenge are simple: visit as many Vermont breweries as possible. Each visit is documented by getting a “passport” stamped at the brewery. Each brewery has a rubber stamp with the VBA symbol. The passport card is available on the VBA website and also at most of the member breweries. Prizes are awarded when the passport is mailed in to the VBA. Visit four breweries, get a bottle opener. Ten brewery visits entitles you to a VBA t-shirt. If you visit all of the breweries, you claim the mother lode: a “collector's set of Vermont beer gear.”
This “challenge” seemed like the perfect way to ensure that I didn't waste my vacation time by sleeping late and revisiting familiar haunts. Because the breweries are spread out across the entire state, I would be forced to avoid the interstate highways and enjoy Vermont's back roads. I left New York with a bike laden with camping gear and some extra clothing. I've learned that it's especially important to bring rain gear when riding in Vermont, regardless of the season. There is a reason that the hills and valleys of the Green Mountain State are so lush and verdant: Vermont averages around 36 inches of rainfall per year. And when its too cold for rain, expect to see lots of snow.
Some of you may be scratching your heads at this point, saying “Bar hopping on a motorbike? That doesn't sounds safe!” Let me take a moment to explain that there is a difference between beer guzzling and beer tasting. Most of the breweries offer sample sized glasses of their beer. Disclaimer: No DWI laws were broken during the research of this article.
After spending a weekend camping in Maine with some friends (Cromag Campout 2008), my brother and I turned our bikes westward and headed towards Vermont. My brother and I ride identical BMWs, and when we tour together we often joke about faking German accents and posing as factory-sponsored riders. For this trip, Jason was able to take two days off from work, but had to be back by Wednesday afternoon. That gave us two full riding days to make a dent in the VBA challenge. Unfortunately, none of the breweries are open 24/7. Some of the smaller places are open to the public only one or two days a week. Another brewery was closed for a small repair. Trying to keep track of all the locations, routes, schedules, and variables did indeed create a logistical “challenge.” I knew I was taking the mission seriously when I had a dream about maps and breweries midway through the trip. With only a few days to ride around Vermont, we didn't want to have to retrace any steps or miss breweries along the way.
ECOBREWING
The first brewery on our list was Long Trail Brewery in Bridgewater Corners. Named after the 272 mile-long hiking trail, it's no surprise that this brewery makes environmental issues a top priority. To this end, the brewery uses heat recovery systems and water conservation, as well as other efforts, to reduce waste and protect the environment (www.ecobrew.com). After checking out the short self-guided tour and a quick lunch in the pub (accompanied with a few four-ounce samples), we got our passports stamped for the first time.
MORE COWBELL
We rode north and west as we left Long Trail. Heading toward Middlebury, we had the opportunity to enjoy two of Vermont's great riding roads: Route 100 and Route 17, also known as the Appalachian Gap road. Once on the west side of the gap, we continued on back roads that snake between farms. The views were amazing: New York's Adirondack mountains on one side, Vermont's farms and hills on the other. As we entered Middlebury, we took the Pulp Mill Bridge, the oldest of Vermont's many covered bridges, over Otter Creek.
Our visit to the Otter Creek Brewery was a highlight of the trip. With frequent tours, free tastings, and a gift shop, this brewery is popular with locals and tourists alike. The staff at Otter Creek were the most friendly and helpful people we encountered on the entire brewery tour. A percentage of the beer here is brewed with organic ingredients, and is labeled Wolaver's Organic. After leaving Middlebury, we headed north to Mount Philo state park (http://www.vtstateparks.com/htm/philo.cfm), where we set up camp. However, our day's work wasn't finished yet. We made a quick run into Burlington and claimed a few more stamps for our passports before retiring at the campground.
VICTORY OR WATERLOO
By late Tuesday afternoon, our tally had grown to nine breweries. Mindful that a tenth stamp would award Jason a Vermont Beer t-shirt, we rushed our visit to The Alchemist in Waterbury. Despite the protestations of the barkeep, we left without enjoying a proper pint. We were on a mission to get to the Harpoon Brewery in Windsor. “Harpoon,” Jason declared ceremoniously, “will either be our victory or our Waterloo.”
Harpoon was scheduled to close at 6pm, and there was no way we would make it in time. Before leaving Waterbury, I called Harpoon and spoke to Molly, the manager of the retail store. I explained our emergency, and she promised to leave the rubber VBA stamp in a specific place in the store. If we could find anyone working around the brewery after hours, we could get our stamp.
We raced down Route 89, determined to make it to Windsor before the last employee left. About 20 miles from our destination, the engine on my BMW started to sputter. As the engine coughed and died, I kicked myself for ignoring the low fuel light that had lit up some miles back. I steered the bike to a stop on the side of the highway, a few hundred feet from a sign that read “BEAR CROSSING.”
“This could get interesting,” I thought to myself. Luckily, I had planned ahead and packed something for this possibility. No, not bear repellent, although that might have been reassuring. Rather, I was thinking of the 33 ounce bottle of gasoline I always keep on the bike. I carry the spare gas for other riders, because with my eight gallon tank there's no way I would ever need it. Since I started packing the fuel, I had encountered no riders who need it, and I'd only had to use it once. As Jason snapped a picture, I dumped the fuel into the bike and we were again on our way. We stopped to gas up at the next exit, and arrived at the Harpoon Brewery at 6:30, a half hour past closing time.
The parking lot was empty except for one pickup truck. The driver, an old Vermonter with a beard, was in the process of leaving. As I gave chase and honked my horn, Jason blocked the exit. It turned out that the surprised driver did not work at Harpoon. He was just trying to buy some beer. Disappointed, we let him go. Seeing no one in the brewery, I was ready to accept defeat. But Jason insisted that we do a full check of the perimeter before we left. Around the back of the building, an open doorway with a screen door indicated life inside. Not wanting to walk in unannounced, we shouted through the screen until a man approached. We explained our situation, mentioning the manager's name, of course. It turned out that he was one of the brewers, working a late shift. Obviously a beer enthusiast, he was also a motorcyclist, and he was happy to help us out. Once the stamp business was taken care of, he proceeded to show us around the facility. Before we left, he attached some plastic tubing to one of the giant vats. As he turned a valve, dark amber liquid began to stream out. He filled up two plastic cups, and apologized for the foam. This beer, he told us, was Octorberfest style and would be bottled the next morning. Talk about fresh! And it tasted like sweet nectar of the gods.
With ten stamps in his VBA passport, Jason was able to return to Boston triumphantly. But I had more work ahead of me: I had two more days to visit the remaining eight breweries, some of which had quirky schedules. I sat down with a map and note paper, and looked at my options.
THE ELUSIVE LAWSON'S LIQUID
The only brewery in the Vermont Brewers Association that does not list an address is Lawson's Finest Liquids. The website (http://www.lawsonsfinest.com/index.php) calls the brewery “a modest production facility hidden in the woods,” which I'm guessing doubles as Mr. Lawson's house. I called the phone number listed on site, and spoke to a man (...Mr. Lawson himself?!) who informed me that the brewery was not open to the public. Instead, he directed me to the Warren General Store, where I might find a bottle of the beer “if it isn't sold out.” He went on to explain that he had no stamp for the VBA passport, which is why the passport already has an outline of a stamp over his logo. The small town of Warren is in the middle of prime riding roads so I was happy to have an excuse to visit the area again. At the general store, the cashier directed me to the beer cooler, where I might find a bottle of Lawson's “if it isn't sold out.” Indeed, I was able to find and buy a bottle of Lawson's Maple Sap Lager. Given its rarity, I expected this beer to be amazing. While it tasted decent to my untrained palate, I wasn't able to detect any maple in the lager.
EYE IN THE SKY
On the last day of my quest, I found myself outside Montpelier with only two breweries left on my list. No real challenge there, but I wanted to be at my friend's house in Connecticut by nightfall. As I rode south, I had to decide which brewery to hit first, Madison Brewing in Bennington, or McNeill's in Brattleboro. I chose McNeill's, and I chose wrong. McNeill's, I learned from the sign in their window, wouldn't open for another hour. I called Jason, who was now helping out as my “eye in the sky,” to get the address for Madison Brewing and confirm that they were open. I jumped on my bike and rode 40 miles west on the sweeping curves of Route 9 to Bennington. I was lucky to find a parking spot near the front of the bar. I was in Bennington for a total of ten minutes: just enough time to park, run into the brewpub, have a sample, and get my passport stamped. I returned to Brattleboro before anyone knew that I left. Back at McNeill's, I treated myself to a celebratory pint.
SOUTHBOUND AGAIN
It had been four long days, filled with countless miles and countless sips of beer. Many of the roads, and several of the beers, had been amazing. But there were more states with more breweries to visit, and the air in Vermont was turning cold. So I fired up my bike, and headed south.