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| Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay |
On May 29th, 1953, a New Zealand mountaineer named Sir
Edmund Percival Hillary and a Nepalese Sherpa mountaineer named Tenzing Norgay
became the first climbers to reach the summit of Mount Everest. They were part
of the ninth such British-led expedition to climb what the locals call “the
Holy Mother” so they certainly weren't the first to try to climb it, but one
has to imagine that a question they heard all the time from friends and family
was “why?” “Why put your life at risk to climb a mountain?” “What is the point?”
That question was very eloquently answered by James
Tiberius Kirk in the 1989 motion picture Star
Trek V: The Final Frontier. Although Final
Frontier was commonly regarded as “the worst one” by the Trekkies, it did
offer a useful scene in the beginning in which Kirk is free-climbing the face
of Half Dome in Yosemite National Park and Spock interrupts him to ask why he
is doing it. Kirk responds by telling Spock “because it’s there.” This, of
course, was a direct quote of the first person to ever attempt to climb
Everest, George Mallory, who answered those words when asked by reporters why
he wanted to climb the tallest mountain on Earth.
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| Perhaps "because it is there" is not a sufficient reason for climbing a mountain. |
The point of all of this, and as an answer to your
question “why is a beer blog talking about mountain climbing?” is that this
spirit is commonly found in the brewing world. Every once in a while, a brewer, in the name
of accomplishment, creates something that has never been done before. It might
be a new style of beer, or it could be a new twist on a beloved style. Or it
could be a quest to create the world’s strongest beer, as is the case with the
Scottish brewery known as Brewmeister.
 |
| Monsters always come from Scotland. |
The lads at Brewmeister accepted the continuous brewer’s
challenge and set out to create something that truly had some bollocks to it.
They brewed a beer called Armageddon that literally weighs in at 65% ABV. Let
me say that again as it bears repeating – 65% alcohol by volume. They did this
by fermenting a normal batch of ale and then freezing it. Once frozen to a
sufficient point (remember, alcohol freezes at a lower temperature than water),
they removed the giant iceberg that was floating in the beer, leaving behind a
super-concentrated liquid that, while still beer, was no longer recognizable by
the beer community as something they would ordinarily consider in their
calculations.
I have no idea what kind of distribution net the Scots
have cast over the United States of America (I like to think it’s very
limited), but I managed to acquire a bottle of this majestic brew from the beer
fairy. The bottle in question was allegedly acquired in Scotland, along with a
handful of other bottles, by a friend of a friend and sent to my friend, who couldn't drink more than one, so he gave it to me. You can buy a 12oz bottle of
Armageddon at Brewmeister’s website
for a whopping £60.00 (or $96.60 USD by today’s conversion rate), but as for
buying it here in the States, all I can say is good luck finding it.
I’m not sure where the night I took on this monster fits
into the grand history of heroes such as Hillary, Mallory, or Kirk, and quests
like Everest or boldly going where no man has gone before, but I considered my
challenge to drink Armageddon on equal pairing with Brewmeister’s quest to
create it. And fortunately for you lucky readers, I have chronicled this quest,
in real time, for posterity. I hope you enjoy reading my account as much as I
enjoyed the event itself.
BLOGGER’S NOTE: The
following portion was written as I was drinking a 65% ABV beer, in real time.
Please forgive any spelling errors, grammatical nuances, rambling sentences, syntax missteps, or other things that just don’t make any sense. I have deliberately not
proofread this bit, as an attempt to share the experience.
--
 |
| Hemingway wrote drunk... why can't I? |
141700LDEC2012: Bottle opened –
first 4 ounces poured into a snifter glass. The first thing I noticed upon
opening the bottle and pouring it into a glass is that it has zero carbonation.
None. That was a touch weird considering it is, after all, a beer. My first
reactions to the smell and taste of this beer were that it was not terrible. It
tasted and smelled of alcohol, but the flavor of malted barley were still
intact and the alcohol, while certainly noticeable, were not so dominant that
they ruined the brew. I would say that it wasn't “great,” as beer is supposed
to be drank (not sipped), and this beer cannot be drank given its weight and
warmth, but all things considered, it wasn't bad.
141745LDEC2012: 4 ounces gone –
next 4 ounces poured into snifter glass. Warm feeling becoming pronounced.
Synapses still firing – brain still functional. Gastro-intestinal fortitude
still firm. The beer still tastes good.
In fact, I think it might be getting better. The sweet notes are playing very
well off of the warmth.
 |
| This is closer to reality. |
141820LDEC2012: 8 ounces gone –
last 4 ounces poured into snifter glass. The bottle is empty, which is an
accomplishment in and of itself. The warm feeling is now quite pronounced.
Synapses are still firing, but I am having legitimate trouble typing… my
fingers are moving pretty slow. Overall, I still have my wherewithal about me,
but it’s noticeably deteriorating as we speak. The beer, however, is still very
smooth and sweet. I can see the end of the tunnel. Just keep swimming.
141845LDEC2012: 12 ounces gone
(as in, the entire bottle gone). I feel a weird sense of accomplishment, though
I know that I’ll be nursing the rest of the beers I drink tonight as a result
of this. Surprisingly, I don’t feel as buzzed as I thought I was going to…
certainly tipsy, but nowhere near as bad as I expected. I suppose the lesson
here is that beer doesn't pollute the mind as much as spirits. Or, perhaps the
alcohol level of this beer was overstated… [scandal alert].
--
 |
| John Lithgow is not a nut-job either. |
In retrospect, I can say without a doubt that this quest
was a success. I can remember back a few months when I first read the press
release from Brewmeister about their 65% ABV beer and thinking only in abstract
terms about the distinctions of it - much in the same way we view the Loch Ness
Monster or Sasquatch in terms of disputed photographic indications and
convoluted accounts, but mostly as whacked-out stories told by nut-jobs who are
looking for attention. Now, I have tangible evidence that I can share with all
of you. Of course, I suppose another way to look at this is that I am now one
of the whacked-out nut-jobs who is only looking for attention, and my story is
nothing more than another convoluted account. Then again, I am a blogger, and
at the end of the day, what is a blog but a venue designed to draw attention to
nut-jobs who, otherwise, wouldn't have any - deep thoughts, by Jack Handy.
*** BONUS SECTION
***
As you probably already guessed, this has been the final
blog post of 2012. It was a great year, full of intrigue, adventure, mystery,
and tragedy… all of the elements of good story telling. But it’s over now. The
next time we meet over the glowing screen of your computer or mobile device, it
will be 2013. So remember to enjoy your New Year celebrations, make sure to
drink good craft beer in the process, and with any luck, we’ll all meet back
here next time renewed with energy and spirit, and ready to take on the next
365 days.
Here’s to craft-brewed happiness… and a Happy New Year…
Cheers!
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