As cliche as it is, I often find myself looking for the iconic shots of the certain places that I visit. Arches National Park, you bet I took a photo of Delicate Arch. Santa Monica Pier, yep, I have a photo of the sign leading down to the pier. Chicago, of course a photo of The Bean is in my possession. So when I arrived to the Hoh Rain Forest I went looking for the cute old phone booth covered in a layer of moss, that I had seen several photos of when researching the Hoh Rain Forest. I was perplexed with where the phone booth covered in moss was as I stood near the visitor center. After ten minutes or so of being unsuccessful in locating the phone booth I took out my cell phone to google the location of the phone booth. It was both ironic and disappointing. Ironic in the fact that I was using a phone to find a phone and disappointing as my cell phone revealed that the phone booth had been taken down and was no longer at the Hoh Rain Forest thus taking away all cliche photographers hopes of capturing the photo of the mossy phone booth.
I rarely leave much to chance when I am traveling. It is why I believe I am destine to travel alone. I plan my trips out very detailed and from the people I have traveled with it seems to be that I am the only one who likes that. Most seasoned travelers say this method of planned travel is not the way, but for me it works. I think a lot of it has to do with traveling with a dog as we are restricted to where we can and can not go based on dog friendliness.
While on a road trip last summer, without Boomer, I was traveling along the Olympic Peninsula, a place I believe I have never been before. We will fact check with my dad right now. He will usually leave a note in the comment section if I say I have not been somewhere when in fact I have. Let’s just say he is keeping me honest with you. We traveled a lot when I was a kid and I am sure you can forgive me. I do after all drink a lot of beer and that has to account for some, if not all of my memory loss.
What started out as our spring trip turned out to be Boomer’s and my only trip together last year. It was disappointing that Boomer stayed home for the rest of the year but we did have an enjoyable time on our spring trip together. Below is a wrap up of our Utah, Colorado, Arizona and Wyoming adventures together.
The park ranger’s voice echoed throughout the almost empty Grand Teton visitors center “The road to Yellowstone is closed”. Although she was not speaking directly to me her comment resulted in a furrowed brow from me. With the “road to Yellowstone” closed, otherwise known as the John D. Rockerfeller Jr Memorial Parkway, it would not only derail our plans for the day but also our route home as I had intended on passing through Yellowstone National Park on the last day of our trip. I now had to start accepting the fact that I would be driving over Teton Pass once again to get home and at the time unbeknownst to me with a fresh layer of slippery snow on it. Fun times for me my friends.
Sometimes I don’t drink beer.
I love beer. This much you can probably tell about me. The name of my blog alone should be proof that I at least like beer. And if you read my blog, admit it, you are doing it right now, you know I talk about beer often.
I sometimes drive far to visit new breweries. Often it pays off fulfilling my quest to find great beer. There is something to be said about finding a roadside brewery located in a small town with a passionate brewer making their dream of creating beer a reality. For some, like myself, it is the American Dream.
As a child my family and I use to visit Jackson, which I thought we called it Jackson Hole at that time. I am not sure when the change happened or more of the drop of the word “hole” was, but it appears it is now called just Jackson.
Or maybe I just was not up to speed as to what was going on. And maybe I was not, I was a little kid after all. Even as an adult I am sure I still do not know half of what is going on. But sometimes it is best to be unaware of some things, am I right?
I still refer to Jackson as Jackson Hole, it is a habit I am not willing to break. Kind of like my beer habit. The term “hole” actually refers to the Jackson Hole Valley, which includes the town of Jackson. The hole is the area between the Teton Mountain Range and the Snake River. So I can still refer to the town as Jackson Hole and be vaguely correct.
And now that I have devoted way too much time to the world “hole” let’s move on…
Before I go to any brewery I check out their website to see what beers they have and do a little planning for what I might order. Sometimes this pre-shopping will make or break a visit to the brewery. If the tasting notes are vague or the list includes beer styles I do not enjoy, such as Belgium styles, I may skip the brewery all together.
Snake River Brewing’s beer list was neither vague nor included an over abundance of Belgium styled beers. The list of beer was impressively large, with several styles of beer represented. But for me it was not the size of the list, but the clever beer names that caught my eye. With names like “Rye Not”, “White Snake”, “YB Bitter” “Dark Helmet” “Custer’s Last Ale” and my personal favorite “License to Pils” how could I not want to swing in and grab a pint from Snake River Brewing while I was in Jackson?
It had been only two days since we had said goodbye to Buddy and I thought to cheer us up I would take Boomer to Priest Lake Idaho. Although short, it would be a road trip, which is something that Boomer and I both love. Priest Lake is nearby our home, however I have only been there a handful of times and Boomer had never been. It is truly a shame as Priest Lake Idaho is one of the most stunning places in Idaho. On this day I planned to take Boomer to Granite Falls, north of Nordman Idaho.
Brewing beer dates back 6000 years where it is believed that the brewing profession was heavily dominated by women. The oldest documented recipe for beer dates back 3900 years with a reference to Ninkasi, the goddess of alcohol, who is sometimes referred to as the goddess of brewing.