When You Embarrass Yourself, Just Drink More

Written By Jonathan Cranfield

By Ian Guevara

Buck Bald Brewing - Murphy, NC

“Now that’s just a question you should never ask a brewer,” chuckled Patrick, the head brewer and proprietor of Buck Bald Brewing.

I am gutted.  My amateurity was on display like a pair of holey underwear waving, strung up on a flagpole in an immature camp prank.  If I could have hid under a rock and waited out my shame, I would have.  This is a massive misstep for me.  14 breweries in, over 80 beers sampled, and I still fail to grasp the etichet of brewer-speech.

Patrick is an imposing figure, bearded like a long-lost member of ZZ Top, and whose bear-like hands enveloped mine and made them disappear into the matrix.  But he is a forgiving brewmaster, and I think he’s just yanking my chain.  He proceeds to break down the complexities and craftsmanship that makes up the identity of every beer he produces.  I’m in the presence of a wizard of brewing.  I need to take careful notes.

As I’ve aged I’ve tried to break the habit of putting my foot in my mouth.  As a younger man, impulsive and arrogant, I paid no heed to the idea of situational awareness.

The last time it snowed in New Orleans was in December of 2008.  I was woken from my 22 year old hungover slumber by my mother telling me to see the sight.  Real snow.  What people in the south mistake for snow is usually wet frozen rain that plummets to the ground and shatters car windows.  No, this was dry and fluffy, floating softly to the earth.  I made a snowman.  It was two feet tall.  I felt like Charlie Brown.

After a morning of borrowing trash can tops and sliding down the Lake Pontchartrain levees, trying to reenact the sledding scene from Christmas Vacation as best we could, the snow melted and reverted back to its brown and slushy form that would ice the streets and become an ominous omen for the day.

It was a Thursday and the Saints were playing the Bears in Chicago on primetime.  That only meant one thing for a young man in his twenties: watching the game with a bunch of friends while trying to see who can forget the score the fastest.

I was on the way to Mike’s house in the Lakeview area.  My 06 Ford Ranger creaked and squealed with every bump and pothole.  Ford owners know it all too well, it's colloquially called the “Ford Creak”, and can be heard through the vacuum of space in the International Space Station.

As I drove I noticed the hallmark display of a law enforcement Crown Victoria front end tailing me, the yellow parking lights set firmly inside of the bright headlights.  For a mile, at the speed limit, from Harrison Avenue all the way up Bellaire Drive I was tailed.  I had nothing to hide, or at least I thought, yet my heart was racing.  No one enjoys being pulled over, and kickoff was approaching.  “I can’t miss this,” I thought to myself, “the Saints will lose if I miss kickoff.”  We had a litany of silly superstitions.

I pulled into Mike’s driveway, exited my truck, and instead of having situational awareness and walking straight into Mike’s house, I approached the police car.

“Can I help you officer?” I asked innocently.

“Yeah, your truck fits the description of a vehicle suspected in the theft of multiple homes in this area,” the officer stated.

“Do I look like the Grinch who stole Christmas?” Those were the wrong words to use with the NOPD.  They neither possess a sense of humor nor any sense of any kind apparently.

I was handcuffed, searched, and arrested.  Now I was not arrested for mouthing off, although I’m sure that didn't help.  I had an unpaid traffic ticket in another parish.  Being a college student, I struggled in “Making Difficult Choices 101”.  $500 to pay for school books, $500 to pay for Saints season tickets, or $500 to pay off a speeding ticket.  The answer was clear.  I love the Saints.

I spent the evening in jail, thankfully bailed out by my friends before I had to put on the orange jump suit and sleep in the general population.  I lacked situational awareness.  A trait that I still don't seem to have shaken off.

At least this time I’m just embarrassed and not handcuffed.

Buck Bald Brewing is a large and spacious establishment located on Tennessee Street in Murphy, North Carolina.  It's the second location for Buck Bald Brewing, the first being located an hour and a half drive away in Copperhill, Tennessee.  Opened this year, Murphy is larger than the original location and sports a modern and inviting tap room with 12 wonderfully crafted house beers on tap.

The brewery does not provide flights.  Instead they do half pours of pints.  My liver will be sacrificed to the Brew Gods in August.

My first set of half pours consisted of “Hollerin’man”, “McCully Mountain”, “Big Bitch”, and “Big Frog”.  Hollern’man is a Pale Ale an apricot color with a sweet citrus smell.  The hopps hit you immediately and is followed with a muted citrus flavor that balances the taste.  McCully Mountain is an English-Style Mild beer providing a smooth pecan color with a malty aroma.  It starts light and crispy with a sweet caramel flavor followed by that roasted malt taste.

Big Bitch is an Indian Pale Lager showcasing an alluring butterscotch color.  Starting with a piney flavor, it follows with a floral aftertaste and muted bitterness. This is the first Indian Pale Lager I’ve ever tasted and it's wonderful.  Buck Bald Brewing is the only brewery I’ve visited to produce this brew and I see a trend starting.  Big Frog is a New England-Style Hazy IPA unveiling a honey color and that classic citrus and hoppy smell that's typical of a Hazy IPA.  It’s a wonderful Hazy IPA with a great balance of citrus and bitterness that keeps you going.

My second set of half pours were filled with “Raging Red”, “Mango Tango”, “Backpack Blonde”, and “When Berry Gose Away”.   Raging Red is an Irish Red Ale appearing with a gingerbread color and an alluring bready smell.  It’s crispy and smooth to start with a toasty malty finish.  Mango Tango is a habanero and mango infused Berliner Weisse exhibiting the color of light hay with an inviting sweet and spicy smell.  Mango Tango is enchanting with a light, crispy, and tart start containing a mellow mango sweetness that's followed by a spicy habanero finish that rests there and dances on the back of your tongue.  Backpack Blonde is a standard Blonde Ale revealing a honey color with a tempting sweet aroma.  It’s malty to start and finishes smoothly.

The star of the show is When Berry Gose Away.  By now you know I’m biased for sours and salty Goses.  This beer had it all.  Patrick proudly boasted that this was the first beer to empty out at a local beer festival in Tennessee.  It's no wonder why.  The brew coaxes you in with a tangy ruby color and a sweet berry fragrance.  I couldn’t wait to treat my taste buds to his incredible brew.  It’s salty, cripsy, smooth, sour, and sweet!  It literally possesses all the things you want in a Gose.  Perfect beer for a summer day and one of my favorites by far on this journey.

Buck Bald Brewing’s Murphy location is open Thursday through Monday from 12pm to 8pm.  The Murphy location offers a large open tap room with plenty of beers and even more stories.  Community is a clear prerogative here as there is a large shelf of personalized mugs firmly against the wall for local beer tasters to have a slice of home away from home.  If you’re looking for some food to compliment your beer, Smokey Mountain BBQ Company is a stone’s throw away to help soak up the suds.

The Saints lost that game back in December of 2008 by the way, in overtime, to Kyle Orton.  It was my fault, I missed the kickoff.  Don't miss out on Buck Bald Brewing, you’ll regret it.

Jonathan Cranfield
Previous

Love, Beer, and Self-Discovery
Next

Valley of the Long Lost Hotcakes