The 500

And so the immortal night had descended upon us, the evening in which we would partake of beer number 500 and perhaps beyond. Throughout history, the number 500 signifies well, absolutely nothing, but to the BC4m, it meant an accomplishment known only to a handful of souls worthy enough to call themselves pioneers. Throughout the annals of history, countless visionaries had performed valiant quests that challenged the very fabric of human dignity. We humbly joined the vanguard of forefathers who had challenged the very notion of living meekly in moderation. We scoffed at the naysayers who said that sampling 500 beers in 7 months was pure folly. Having endured the pitfalls of (over)indulgence, we proudly arrived at Snakes house for a gathering that would ensure our place in the archives of time. To herald our "race to 500", the bold choreographer of the group, the daddy mac/mac daddy of "stylin and profilin" himself, Mr Jonathan Zigfried Wilder showed up in his hottest Danica Patrick inspired racing ensemble to commemorate the festivities. The night was unseasonably cool as we gathered on Snake's 800 square foot antique Peruvian Ishpingo wood deck for a night that would bring to us beers that were as rare as the double breasted ringtail lemur found only in the Andes mountains of Chile. On this glorious night we first opened a Lagunitas Lucky 13 (8.56%). The bottle featured a picture of D-Rails Ugandan aunt who had at one time been a mute burlesque dancer during the reign of Mussolini prior to WWII. She was widely regarded as not only the first known performer of the "rusty trombone" but who had also been seduced by multiple members of the Italian National breakdancing team during one particularly lascivious weekend in Monte Carlo back in 1936 . This was a sweet elixir that rewarded us with a hoppy start followed by a explosive finish (much like the beloved Aunt Paquienta on that fateful friday evening) and it rated a very good. Next was a second tasting of Rogue Double Dead Guy Ale (9.0%). Better this time, the group liked the taste, even though the ever present Pac-Man yeast and "free range coastal water" caused Fred to say, "damn these fucks are fucking pretentious as hell". Trappistes Rochefort 10 (11.3%) was poured next and it was a sweet, velvety, carbonated concoction that screamed "drink me up". "Wow" said Wilder, "this shit is flippin amazing" and we all agreed that it was almost an RFG. We tried a Moylan's Kilt Lifter Scotch Style Ale (8.0%) next and it while it was decent, nary a kilt was lifted unlike the multitude of woodies that had developed upon drinking the Rochefort. Since it was nothing super it got a so-so. Tank had brought along his buddy from San Diego to the festivities and while he was busy cracking us up with tales of how he and Tank used to emcee the one eyed midget donkey shows while on liberty in Tijuana we opened a bottle of Trader Joe's Fat Weasel Ale (7.1%). If you have never been to a Trader Joe's, do yourself a favor and go. The folks there make a damn fine boysenberry cobbler as well as a great beer, and this one didn't disappoint as it was easily one of the best session beers we had ever tasted so it got a good. While Snake was busy grilling up some hot Italian sausages to help assuage our hunger pains, we popped the top on a Russian River Damnation (7.75%). As you loyal readers know, we absolutely love many of the beers these guys make (Pliny the Elder might be the absolute best beer we have ever tried), but this "Belgian Golden Ale" tasted like a used wad of Big League Chew in a bottle. Crazy Ken mentioned that it had as much flavor to him as ball of twine. Snake remarked that it tasted like the hard as granite stick of bubble gum you used to get in a pack of baseball cards. Great label and great name but average at best taste so it rated a so-so. Another bottle from Lagunitas, Undercover Investigation Shutdown Ale (9.75%) was offered next, and it was simply delicious. This beer was supposedly brewed as a response to a year long DEA investigation into the alleged dope smoking habits of the boys at the brewery, but like the Obama administration guys patrolling the porous border with Mexico, somehow they failed to find anything illegal. Fred said the granola and hemp infused tone of this tasty treat reminded him of the free-spirited, gun toting, tie-dyed wearing swinger ladies he had accidently come across while traversing Lake Chesdin while competing in the 9th annual Smack dat Ass Triathlon. Despite the government crackdown, this amazing beer was almost an RFG, as we loved the pure hop and malt flavors that dazzled our taste buds. Next was a Terrapin Side Project 11 Boom Shaka-Lager (9.0%) which is actually a marzen style beer rather than a lager. Wilder simply loved the name and fell back into his middle school hip hop phase by jumping on the table to do his patented Humpty Dance. As we howled with laughter at the nimble antics of the artist formerly known as DJ Whitey Freshtastic, we downed this remarkable beer and rated it a solid good. After swarming Snake's freshly grilled sausages like a plague of two-legged humpback locusts, we moved on to the sacred trinity of beers that this night was built around. In our endeavours to try every beer made, we had stumbled upon two of the highest alcohol content beers in existence. From our friends in wee old Scotland, the boys at Brewdog had first developed the Tactical Nuclear Penguin (32%), (thats right 32 freaking percent). Subsequently, a German outfit crushed the Penguin by making a 40% beer. As a response to this nefarious Kraut assault on all things good and Scottish, the lads developed a counterattack known as Sink The Bismarck (41%). Of course we had to try both of these ballistic alcohol missiles, and the only man that could get them to us was the Zohan himself. Freddie told us not to waste our money on them but that he would ship them to us if we so desired. Even though the cost of these two beers is more than the mortgage payment of the average South Carolina double wide owner, we didn't give a fuck, so we ordered one of each. Penguin poured like the chilled remains of a catastrophic chimney fire and smelled like a pile of burnt and freshly soiled baboon diapers. The taste was that of a charred oxtail wrapped in a smoked oak barrel. "This shit is god-awful"said Bim, while D-Rail exclaimed, " I want my 50 bucks back". This was one of the worst beers to ever soil our tongues and it rated a sucks. Fred declared, "I would rather drink 2 cases of CHC Swamp Fire Ale after a syphilis infected orangutan urinated on it before I take another sip of this shit!". To wash the acrid taste out of our mouths, we promptly poured Bismarck. What a complete turnaround in taste. This 41% annihilator was as smooth as a set of Hugh Hefner's silk pajamas. A bigger mouthful than even a marvelous set of bodacious 36dd's, this was in the words of Tank, "That's like Holy Mackerel", while Snake decreed, "That is some genuinely serious shit right there boys", and Wilder added, "Thats a fucking MRE in a bottle!" As strong as this beast is, the alcohol hits you about as weak as a limp wristed baloney smuggler yet the taste is pure unadulterated bliss on the tongue. This was a magnificent beer and it rated very close to RFG. The third beer of the trinity, was the world number one rated Westvleteren-12 (10.2%). Peruse just about any online beer rating site will and you will find this beer rated as the best of the best. We poured a round for all hands and hoped for a vision of glory to descend upon our tongues. With most things in life, the hype usually outdoes the actual experience. Sure, everybody and their Jamaican-Peruvian half step-sister has rated Westie as the be-all end-all of beers. And damn if they weren't right. The taste is is simply divine and we wished we had a 6 kicker of it to pass around. D-Rail said it was so good, "I wanna dip my Irish-Honduran dick in it and suck it myself" while Snake said, "Guys, thats some real fuckin tasty business right there". Without hesitation, we declared it to be an RFG. While we reveled in having found a new RFG, we retold the story of our trip to the world beer festival in Richmond. Fred mentioned that while he had easily gotten the best pizza on the Bottoms Up menu, the "Meat Master", both D-Rail and Bim had somehow ordered the oyster rockefeller pizza and Wilder had succumbed to the taco pizza. As Fred mocked the obviously less than manly pizza choices of his brethren and dropped his forearm on the table (simulating the supposed size of the meat in his banana hammock), the boys turned the tables on Fred by insinuating that being a "meat master" seemed pretty fucking gay in itself. "Well played ladies" said Fred as we moved on to a New Holland Mad Hatter (5.25%). This bottle of mediocrity was in the words of the suddenly loquacious D-Rail, "The Coors Light of IPA's" and it rated a mere so-so. Green Flash Le Freak (9.2%) was opened next and it tasted like a bottle of dried up toothpaste. Snake said it was so dry it reminded him of the dried up chunk at the tip of an Easy Cheese container and so it rated a so-so. He'brew Rejewvanator (8.2%) is the third beer in an annual line that focuses on a different fruit as its base. This is the "year of the grape" for this supposedly half-doppelbock, half belgian dubbel ale. Bim remarked that this tasted like Welch's grape juice mixed with Keystone Light, and in fact it is brewed with 600 gallons of Concord grape juice. After watching him drink this up like a thirsty dog laps up pool water, we fell out of our seats as an apparently drunken Bim got up to recreate the scene at his wedding when he serenaded the crowd with the classic song If you think I'm sexy. As the laughter died down, we opened another beer from Belgium, the Trappistes Rochefort 8 (9.2%). This beer poured like a freshly shaken can of Pepsi, but even with the huge amount of carbonation it tasted amazing. Flavors like caramel, brown sugar, and candy sugar rush out at you with a subtle balance that doesn't overwhelm your palate. This one was even better than the Rochefort-10 and we agreed that this was indeed another RFG. Allagash Odyssey (10.4%) was opened next. An ale aged in oak barrels, this was a smooth beer that didn't have alot of alcohol burn even though it has a double digit abv. Remarkably drinkable, this was damn good and was at the border of being declared RFG but missed by just a hair. Another of the rare beers that only the Zohan seems to have for us, The Bruery Eiener's Folly (8.0%) was opened next. To the dismay of our resident home brewer Bim, we discovered that this was actually the winning recipe at a home brewing contest sponsored by the brewery. Bim said, "Hmm, not too shabby", but we all knew he loved this bottle of "Hershey's chocolate bar meets Imperial Porter". To make matters worse for Bim, we also found out that the homebrewer that created this masterpiece was a 19 yr old Salvadorian girl who came up with the recipe on her first try. "You mean to tell me this is a Mexican beer? asked Crazy Ken. Frank then explained to him that not every country south of the border is called Mexico. This was one excellent beer and even though Bim clamored that we should tighten up our immigration laws, we all gave this beer a solid good. We were all getting a little tipsy by this point, but we had several more beers to sample. Avery 17th Anniversary Lager (8.69%) was on tap and this was a dry hopped black lager. The dark roasted malts blended perfectly with the tangy hops and this one rated a good. Kiuchi Brewery Hitachino Nest Japanese Classic Ale (7.5%) was poured next. Featuring a label that had the Tootsie Pop Owl on it, drinking this beer caused the chairman of the CHC Tea Party (Fred the grumpbump) to start a polemic about "Tojo and them damn sneaky ass Japs" who had somehow successfully launched the Pokemon craze on unsuspecting parents of 1990's kids across our great land. Snake added in how he had been forced to track down and shoot a rabid pack of Pokemon Bunnys that were reeking havoc on the native bonsai population at his lavish sugarcane plantation located on Okinawa. Snake said of all the animals that he had hunted, none had fought like these miniature "Godzillas". "Don't ever let those sad eyes fool you" said Snake, "cause they will strike at you in a split second". The beer sadly didn't live up to the hilarious bunny story, so we gave it a so-so. Next was a Founders Cerise (6.5%). Named after the color that results from the use of michigan cherries in the brew, this was a sweet beer that had a tart bite to it. Very refreshing said Wilder as he broke the seal on the bottle. "Nothing like a good beer in a tight box" he exclaimed. This one was a keeper so it got a good. Blue Mountain Brewery Evil 8 (7.7%) was a Belgian style dubbel. The brewery is located a stone's throw from the charmingly romantic countryside of the Veritas winery in Afton Va, this beer utilizes caramelized biscuit malt and belgian style yeast to create a funky, albeit tasty beer that had us all saying, not too bad, so it got a good. Red Racer Pale Ale (5.0%) and Red Racer IPA (6.5%) were up next. The Pale Ale tasted liked the typical no flavor offerings found in most grocery store beer coolers so it was a so-so, while the IPA was decent and rated a good. Schloss Eggenberg Samichlaus Bier Helles (14.0%) was opened next. This was a swift kick in the ass that tasted like a bottle of Cold Cock Malt Liquor. This beer had a taste that was strong, a slighty skunky smell, and the hammer to the head that this Austrian lioness laid upon us left us on the brink of drunkendom. A so-so to good was the result. Only two beers remained, and the first was an Avery Samael's Ale (16.45%). This is a barley wine style beer that must have been brewed with 23 tons of pure sugar. Wilder declared "I have already got 3 new cavities from the first sip of this syrup", while Tank said, "A sex bomb is what this sweetwater is". Tank was obviously inebriated by the time, since none of us knew what the hell that actually meant. Perhaps it was a bold new move to be used in the bedroom with your significant other, but maybe one day Tank will shed some light on this mystery. A so-so was all we could muster for this bottle of Aunt Jemima's syrup wrapped in a beer label. As we narrowly held our eyes open while the stars rained down their heavenly light from above, we tried a Founders Devil Dancer (12.0%). This fiery she-devil was strong and latched on to our tongues like your eyes would to a young temptress shaking what her momma gave her during a blistering P90X workout. Very good said Wilder, as he emptied his glass. Drunk as fuck and all but passed out, the end of the beer line was finally found. Two new RFG's added to the list, and we had finally partaken in what were once the world's strongest beers. We will continue to march on dear readers, as our next quest finds us searching for the so called "whales" of the craft beer world. These are beers brewed in such limited quantities that they usually sell out in a single day. If any of you are in New Hampshire, Indiana, Oregon, or California, let us know, because maybe you can be the one that gets us these rare beauties. Until next time........