Pikes Peak Region beer sampler Vol. 1

Pikes Peak from Paradox taproom, May 2

Colorado Springs might be only 70 miles from Denver, but the state's second-largest city has a brewing culture all its own - and one that's largely unknown. The Springs has more than two dozen breweries. Across the Pikes  Peak region and southern Colorado, almost every small town has at least one local brewery, so there's plenty to explore.

I hit a few during my househunting visit, including a jaunt up to Paradox Brewing, where light snow fell and temperatures hovered around freezing. I sipped a few drafts slowly before taking a slightly warmer hike on the trails at the Florissant Fossil Beds National Monument.

To keep the fossil theme alive, that night I went to Fossil Brewing behind Rudy’s BBQ, having heard them mentioned as a partner for the fossil beds’ 50th anniversary celebration. They had a quad, and a small pour gave me a good inkling of how well they constructed this massive dark Belgian ale. Their hoppy red made for a decent session beer.

On my last night, I picked a seat at Cerberus Brewing, its patio crowded on a warm Friday evening. What I enjoyed best was the conversation with the man next to me, who was eager to talk about beer, Colorado Springs and anything else that came to mind. I had a pleasant saison, but the beer I could not shake was a hazy IPA brewed with Pacific Northwest hops. Unlike many hazy IPAs, this one had a firm bitter core from its hops.

Two weeks later, a beer sounded perfect after unloading the moving truck.While based in Lyons, Oskar Blues has a fine outpost in downtown Colorado Springs. After a decade of drinking Oskar Blues cans in Nashville, I can’t remember what I drank at their taproom. I was too distracted by the weight of everything I needed to accomplish the next few days.

With better weather the next day, we ventured down the road to Metric Brewing, which had been open just under a year. The large, clean taproom had stacks of board games sat in the corner. Metric uses a three-barrel system so every brew is small batch. Their Belgian pale ale was a clear winner. Methuselah, their honey apricot saison, also hit some marks for me.

After dinner, we drove north and hit Goat Patch Brewing. Goat Patch anchored a new commercial development in an old elementary school. When we arrived, the taproom was crowded.

By the time I walked the full length of the old school for a restroom, Crites has ordered a pair of saisons, one traditional and the other quite read. He chose wisely; both Goats and Goats and Goats Saison, a more traditional saison, and Pappy Legba, an imperial saison brewed with copious amounts of cherries, were winners. Pappy Legba doesn’t taste anywhere near its 13 percent ABV, making it as dangerous as it was tasty.

The next day, with a lot of my stresses settled and a little time to relax, Brass Brewing. Brass occupied a space that appeared much small and innocuous from the street. Inside it had room for dozens, including several small gatherings. A pair of samplers took us though their full lineup, which covered a wide variety of styles from enticing IPAs to some memorable blonde ales, especially a strawberry blonde. Fruit also shined in the strawberry rhubarb milkshake IPA.

Two weeks earlier, I texted Crites from Paradox as I talked with the bartender, brewers and patrons on a blustery afternoon at 9,000 feet. I left with a couple of cork and cage bottles, one a gift for my friend Trev in Nashville. Paradox’s taproom was open Thursday to Sunday, so this was our only opportunity for him to visit. Two weeks earlier I stopped at Paradox Brewing in Divide.

2015 vintage Paradox sour

This time there was no panoramic view of Pikes Peak, just clouds. But the beers were tremendous as always. Somehow they remembered me from two weeks earlier, not demanding an ID and welcoming me back. Again, the friendliness just overwhelmed me. We sampled through the entire lineup, acid reflux be damned. Koji Brothers remains the most original saison I have tasted in ages. We both left with cork-and-cage bottles, which differ from the draft version thanks to the addition of honey.

The bartender opened a 2015 mango habanero beer that had lost none of its heat and vegetative punchiness. From Mexican lager to Baltic porter to all flavors of innovative sours and wild beers, it was worth the repeat visit, and will be worth another once I start drinking again after my altitude adjustment.

Crites spent a few days in Denver and conducted a tour of a few breweries on his own. He was on vacation, I was getting accustomed to a life in a new town. I couldn’t rush to hit every brewery in town. A few caught my interest. I ambled out on Memorial Day weekend to explore a few other spots.

I picked Smiling Toad Brewing based on logo alone. I have a soft spot for breweries with animals in their names. If I had not hit Smiling Toad that weekend, the wait would have been much longer. Hidden deep in a restaurant and small office park development along South 8th Street, I stumbled into Smiling Toad’s weekly Sunday potluck. I started with an apricot blonde, which had big notes of its expected fruit layered over the pale malts.

They had a number of IPAs that didn’t give away their style on name alone save for 4 C’s – I knew it was a Pacific Northwest style. Cascade, Centennial, Chinook and Columbus hops made for a nice bitter beer with plenty of spruce and pine resin notes. As brewers move toward hazy and fruited IPA, this bitter number is worth revisiting. When I inquired about the Commando Queen, I was floored – New England-style IPA single-hopped with Vic Secret, the punchy hop adored by some good friends. Rather than tempt driving drunk, I ordered a crowler and enjoyed Commando Queen slowly on the porch a few nights later.

On Memorial Day, an open parking spot on Colorado Avenue was all the invitation I needed to stop at Phantom Canyon Brewing Company. We had bounced around the newer breweries in the Springs. Now it was time for one of the oldest. The building alone was worth a visit, with its beautiful wooden bar and 19th century flourishes. The crowd was modest.

Phantom Canyon veers toward traditional styles, beers intended for a session or food pairing. I didn’t mind, since not every needs a lineup of DDH IPAs and imperial stouts. The petite saison was decent, although it loomed to close to the “Belgian ale with coriander’ stereotype for a repeat. The cask-aged brown ale on the beer engine was a dark beer for the ages. I could have drank six without blinking.

I have slowed down the brewery visits, taking a few weeks off, putting down roots and not spending too much time drinking.

But there was one I kept passing and could not shake. Lost Friend Brewing – where could that name have originated? Turns out the lost friends were dogs that the owner had found and returned to their owners. The taproom was a hive of activity on Friday evening. I had a pour of their mild, a favorite overlooked style. This was tasty, maybe a little sweet for my tastes, but still refreshing. For a to-go crowler, I picked their Homeward Bound, a hazy IPA made with Azaca, Citra and Huell Melon hops.

I liked the taproom, but already had a new favorite spot for drinking. I spent Saturday morning hiking at Florissant, stumbling through seven miles and returning to the Springs for a take-out feast of Tex-Mex. That evening it was time for Homeward Bound. As winds off the mountains cooled 80-degree highs, I sipped it peacefully on my patio.

Smiling Toad and Pikes Peak