Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Beer: Flying Dog Imperial Porter
Date: February 28th, 2009
Place: The Hideaway Chalet, Killington, Vermont
And then there was Pete, Julie, Kat, Kay, Kay, Kelly, Jocelyn, Janet, Jonathan, Justin, Caitlyn, Allison, Paul, Marianna, Scott, Allison, Courtney, Dave, Braum, Sarah, and Doug. Twenty one twenty (and thirty) somethings in a small (huge) cabin tucked away (on the main drag) in Killington (Killington).
Our trip planned our trip months ago - the best way to go about finding lodging for two dozen twenty (and thirty) somethings on a mountain. Turns out, our timing was one week off. The week before, the mountains of Vermont got three feet of snow. We got rain the entire drive up. On Saturday, we got glorified ice cubes for the ride down.
Scott, Allison, Courtney and Dave driving in from Brooklyn. I’d not seen Dave in a year and half. We’d worked together at McKinney. I was sitting on the couch, looked up, and thought That mystery person there hugging Marianna looks a lot like Dave from behind. Turned around and there he was.
Saturday afternoon. The side of the mountain facing the sun turned to slush. And we turned into stuntmen. Jumping off of everything and landing some things. Sometimes on people.
Talking beer with Doug and Jonathan. Who shared the porter with me. And gave me lots of ammunition for my trial. Like where an amazing beer store is in Newton. And what the top ten beers are in the world.
Talking about my blog. Seems like it struck a nerve with a few.
Sharing a cigar with Pete, Paul and Justin.
Bananagrams. Namely spelling serifs.
The sunny drive out on Route 4. New England at its finest.
Limiting myself to one beer.
The rain and fog.
The ice cube flume.
Feeling bad on Sunday morning. Could have been the screwdrivers, the cigar or the lack of sleep.