Willamette Valley brewers are among the luckiest in the world in that fresh hops are truly a short drive away — less than an hour in many cases. Brewers can take advantage of this once-a-year event by making a beer using fresh hops plucked right off the bines instead of dried ones.

Here’s a brief peek into what our trip was like, and a close-up look at how those little green gems are harvested and dried.

Charles Culp, left, and Marc Martin, your hosts

Marc Martin and Charles Culp are embarking on a new pub tour program that leads beer lovers — both locals and visitors, although the duo expects to mostly cater to tourists — on a pub tour around a handful of Portland’s breweries.

Nothing new about that, except this new venture, Pubs of Portland Tours, nixes the usual gas-guzzling van or bus, and instead takes tourists around town using the city’s highly praised mass-transit system.

I got a chance to go on a ride-along with other beer writers last week as Martin and Culp honed their schedules and repertoire for an official start on Sept. 1, and learned that “beer by bus” (and street car and light rail) is a great way to spend a beery afternoon — hitting a handful of brewpubs, enjoying the sights and sounds of downtown Portland, and seeing my hometown of Beervana with fresh eyes.

The group met at about 1 p.m. “under the glass canopy” of Pioneer Place shopping center downtown, making it easy for folks to ride the local transit authority’s popular light rail, MAX, from many locations throughout the city. Martin made sure it was equally as easy for us to find him, although we all knew him, with his official Pubs of Portland sign. You gotta look official if you’re going to herd a bunch of beer fans on mass transit.

Our first stop was actually just a short walk away — Oregon’s only Rock Bottom brewpub, where brewer Van Havig creates amazing beers beyond the usual Rock Bottom regulars. Havig is known for his anti-establishment edge and sharp wit, which means beer lovers get to experience some pretty interesting creations. Most of us went for one of the special beers on draft, a Cascadian Dark Ale that was a delicious marriage of sweet caramel-toffee and a big dose of citrusy hops; but we missed another beer that was about to be tapped — one that Havig, with smirk firmly planted on his face, called a “Cascadian Dark Pilsner.”

While we were enjoying our first brews of the day, Martin and Culp explained that the plan for the Pubs of Portland tours is to do some educating along with the imbibing, mixing some Portland history (the building that houses Rock Bottom, for instance, has quite the past) and tidbits with brewing and beer background.

Tasting at Deschutes

We rode the rails, literally, to the next stop, the Deschutes Public House, right in the tony Pearl District, where brewer Cam O’ Connor came by to say hi. We were regaled with a huge sampling of beers, including the Experimental #8, which had just won the Concordia Cup as best Imperial or Double IPA in Oregon at the Concordia Ale House.

A final stop meant getting back on mass transit for a visit at Lucky Lab Beer Hall in Northwest Portland for a chat with brewer Ben Flerchinger. Lucky Lab is known for its great outdoor spaces, which are perfect for enjoying their great hand-craft beer. Speaking of hand-crafted, check out these creative uses for old brewing equipment in the garden: a row of worn out brewers boots and a full barrel make for whimsical planters.

A new use for an old barrel

Nice booty!

The mini-tour was over, so we all went our separate ways — on Tri-Met, of course. And that’s when it really drove home (pun intended) that this beer-by-bus concept could really take off. For tourists, it’s a great way to get a feel of the city, learn the mass-transit system, and enjoy some great beer without worrying about navigating around a new city with a buzz (never a good idea, trust me). For Beervana denizens, it’s a fun, “green” excursion and a unique way to see our fair city with fresh eyes.

The Pubs of Portland Tours will typically be “boutique style,” according to Martin, with most groups ranging between two and 12 people; small enough to be able to answer tourists’ questions, accommodate the groups without a lot of effort from the brewpubs, and wrangle attendees on and off public transit.

Although there is already talk of expanding to the happenin’ eastside once the street car heads across the Willamette River, when Martin and Culp first start officially in September, tours will be contained to mostly the downtown and north Portland area and could include rides on buses, MAX and the streetcar or trolley — truly putting the “pub” in public transportation.

You can hear Martin and Culp discuss the Pubs of Portland Tours on Beer O’Clock — the show for people who love great beer. And don’t forget to check out their website while you’re at it.

Besides making him look like the World’s Tallest Oompa-Loompa, Greg is wearing green hair to raise money for charity. Here’s more from the Oompa-Loompa, er, Greg, himself. (Note: a gnat attacks Greg in the middle of his comment. He’s really not seeing things. Really.)

For what it’s worth, I was fortunate enough to spend more than an hour yesterday with Greg at the Horse Brass Pub in Portland where we talked about a lot of beery subjects. Stay tuned for information on when you will be able to hear the interview on the radio show, “Beer O’Clock!” — the show for people who love great beer.

Perhaps they are shirts tied to fond memories of trips or a now-defunct brewery, or maybe the design is just cool. But no matter what, those shirts just never seem to make it into the Goodwill or rags pile, even though you never wear them anymore (admit it, they’re too worn out). Instead, they just sit in a drawer, where you never get to enjoy them and they just take up space.

Here’s a novel idea for those old tees: Turn them into a quilt, wall covering or bedspread. Yep, this my friends, is a handmade quilt featuring favorite old beer T-shirts:

Click on images for larger photo

I credit the idea to my brilliant hubby, Mark Campbell, who just can’t part with some of his fave beer tees (and I don’t blame him — they’re cool). He mentioned that it would be awesome to have those made into a quilt, and I, being the ever-so domestic type who can barely darn socks, looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language.

But our friend, Susan Bartlett, is a wonderfully skilled quilter, and her husband, Dan, is just as an ardent beer fan (and T-shirt hoarder) as my hubby. I mentioned Mark’s idea to her, and the next thing I know, Susan’s whip-stitched out this amazing quilt starring some of Dan’s favorite keepsake beer shirts, which will no doubt be on display in their home. Take a look at this amazing quilting work:

It’s a thing of beauty!

Has Susan’s quilt inspired me to learn to sew? Not a chance. But I am looking at Mark’s old shirts in a whole new way, and will, hopefully, be able to talk Susan into making one of her creations for Mark soon.

Perhaps you’ve also been inspired in some other ways to preserve favorite beer T-shirts? If so, I’d love to hear about your creations!

Every beer has a story, so this is a book!

Of any beverage I can think of, beer is the only one you can really say this about. For one thing, beer is the most effective, accessible and popular social lubricant in the world. Beer brings people together in a way no other beverage can. It sees no age, class or economic distinction. It accompanies us when we celebrate, when we relax, when we lick our wounds, and when we grieve. Beer speaks many languages and can be enjoyed just about everywhere on the planet.

Beer is there for you when you need it. And that has a lot of “story creation” potential. You go out for beers after work; have a few at the annual family barbecue (always a good potential story generator); share some with friends during the game. Buddy had a bad day? You offer to buy him a beer. You screwed up at work? You make it up to your colleagues by buying them all a beer. Beer is also more in tune with human emotions than other beverages. Beer can be quiet and meditative or it can be boisterous. Beer laughs with us, but it also consoles us. You might cry over spilled milk, but you cry IN your beer.

Every beer has a story. But one beer’s story might not be the same for everybody. And not every beer has a story for everybody. For the brewer, the story might be how the beer was created or the inspiration for its name. For the rest of us, the story might be linked to a memory: the beer served at your wedding, that first sip of a craft beer, or the one that your dad let you taste when you were a kid.

One of my fondest memories is sitting with my now-husband on the last day of our first “real” vacation together. We were in Seattle, sipping on Redhook Ballard Bitter (one of the only craft beers available at the time, back in the day when they were called “microbrews”), watching the ships move around Puget Sound in a decidedly Northwest-gray drizzle. It was over those far-too frosty but oh-so delicious mugs of beer that Mark and I dreamed and talked, and planned our lives together. We made a pact that whoever got a job in the Pacific Northwest first, the other would follow.

We’ve lived in Portland, Ore., now, for 21 years and countless beers — proof that dreams woven with beer do come true.

The hubby, Mark, and I had to leave the Oregon Brewers Festival festivities early so we could travel to Colorado Springs for a good friend’s wedding. Thanks to some crazy airline issues, we arrived in the Springs shortly after midnight on Sunday morning, several long hours after our scheduled arrival Saturday night. Ugh. Thankfully, the wedding wasn’t until Sunday at noon!

A tasty (and photogenic) taster tray at Phantom Canyon

We managed to squeeze in a visit to three local brewpubs and sample a beer from a fourth in the three short hours we had for our ale-xpedition. Fortunately, thanks to some well-informed locals like Erik Boyles and Eli Shayotovich of Beer Tap TV, we managed to hit the cream of the crop.

First stop, The Blue Star, a beer-centric restaurant that is conjoined both physically (they are in the same building) and professionally with Bristol Brewing Co. A dark and swanky place, with what could be nominated for the World’s Deepest Bar Top (seriously, longer than an arm’s reach in depth), The Blue Star features most of Bristol’s brews but has a really nice selection of draft beers from other breweries and an impressive list of bottled beers — both from around the corner and around the world. Mark ordered the Compass IPA, which was a nice, solid beer with enough hops to keep my hophead happy. One of the other beers on draft was Black Fox Brewing Siempre Loco, a beautiful and unusual saison made with cumin, lime zest and black peppercorns, all of which lend a slightly spicy note that would, not surprisingly, pair well with Mexican food (and Indian, too, methinks).

As soon as the brewpub opened on Monday, Mark and I found our way to the large and lovely appointed Phantom Canyon Brewing Co. Housed in a large, old building in a great location downtown, it’s easy to see why Phantom Canyon is a popular spot for both the workday lunch crowd and after-work imbibers. We had recently enjoyed breakfast with the newlyweds, so we skipped the food, but it looked great. Mark and I shared a sampler of all 10 draft beers instead.

Hand-pumped cask beers at Phantom Canyon

While all the beers were good, there really wasn’t anything that leapt out at either of us. I was impressed that the Phantom IPA and the Zebulon Peat Porter (made with peat malt, which lends a hint of smoky flavor) were served on cask from a hand pump — even in pitchers. And I also have to give the brewers mad props for their brilliant “Revival Series,” an ongoing program that features defunct styles of beers. Two in the series were on tap at the Phantom when we were there: a true-to-style 1941 Whitbread IPA out of London and a Dampfbier, a style from the Bavarian forest near the Czech border of Germany. (Read more about this unique style here.) With a good dose of malt to balance out and enhance the fruit and spice notes from the weissbier yeast, the Dampfbier was a favorite for both me and Mark.

The beer board at Trinity shows a great lineup.

Our final stop in Colorado Springs wound up being the most intriguing: Trinity Brewing. Housed in a nondescript location in a strip mall off the busy Garden of the Gods Boulevard, Trinity has been brewing up some interesting stuff in its nearly two years of operations.

The sampler tray is one reason why many have an affinity for Trinity.

Offering a goodly number of guest taps (20-plus) in addition to its own lineup of beers, Trinity is definitely the brewery that’s really pushing the envelope in the Springs. From its drop-dead gorgeous bar top made of recycled beer bottles to the way it offers its beer sampler, complete with a small sample of Dubliner cheese, the care and respect Trinity gives the beer is obvious. The Flo IPA was a favorite among Mark, me and our newly wedded friend, Dan, who tore himself away from his bride to join us one last time before we left. (But I really think it was because he likes Trinity. A lot.) I also appreciated the Farmhouse, a saison that changes with the seasons; the current Farmhouse, Fantome SS, was inspired by the eponymous brewery in Belgium. It was a fine tribute, indeed. Awaken is a coffee stout brewed with chicory, which seemed to round out the odd-flavored edge that I often find a bit off-putting in many coffee stouts.

In all, despite the short time we had in Colorado Springs, it was enjoyable to experience this friendly city’s burgeoning beer culture. We look forward to revisiting it again in the future.

So we could all at least virtually have that experience, I popped out the Flip camera when I got to sit with Bob Leggett, President of Artisanal Imports, who has been in the specialty beer business since 1977 and has been importing specialty beers since the mid-1980s.

Bob brought a “young” lambic (one that has not yet been fermented and aged in oak) and an “old” lambic (one that has been aged on oak for 12-18 months, depending on when the brewer decided it was ready) along with a newly imported beer from a relatively obscure brewery, Bockor. This brewery, which is located in the Flemish region of Belgium, is family owned and has been brewing traditional Belgian lambic since the late 1800s. (The first-born son in each generation is named Omer and he becomes the brewery heir — imagine the sibling envy in that family!)

Bob also brought Bockor’s Cuvee des Jacobins Rouge, a recent import that he worked with Bockor to bring to the United States. Apparently, most Belgians don’t really drink those lovely sour beers they make, and haven’t for more than 50 years. In fact, Bockor’s mainstay beer is … sit down for this one … a pilsner.

Bob shares on this video the story behind his finding the brewery and the beer, plus some insight into how outside influences from the U.S. and other countries are convincing Belgians to take a closer look — and sip — at their famed sour beers.

I am having trouble getting the YouTube plug-in to work at the moment, so here’s the link to the 2-minute video.

Hopefully I can get it embedded here soon. Sorry for not being able to make that happen right now, but Oregon Craft Beer Month is calling!

Photo courtesy Oregon Brewers Guild

Oregon Craft Beer Month in a nutshell: So far, so good. And so good, so far!

We’re nearing the midway point of Oregon Craft Beer Month, and, I have to say, it’s been a challenge — but one that I and countless others have been training for all year. I know I can speak for my fellow OCBM celebrators when I say that this year’s OCBM is bigger, badder and better than ever before, with a couple hundred events and something happening each and every day in our fair state.

What started in 2005 as Oregon Beer Week — it might have been the first proclaimed “beer week,” although Beerapolooza in the Bay Area (now SF Beer Week) was already happening — the concept was a creation of three people poised on barstools who were concerned that Oregon’s craft beer culture was being taken for granted.

Those three people — Don Younger, publican of the famed Horse Brass Pub; Jim McConnaughey, a former Horse Brass employee and close friend; and Yours Truly — concocted the plan over some inspiration (a goodly number of Oregon craft beers) in answer to our apprehension that, after more than 20 years of a rich craft beer culture and history, Oregonians were no longer celebrating great beer like we used to.

Oh, sure. Craft beer was everywhere in Oregon — from corner convenience stores to white-clothed fancy restaurants — and the breweries were flourishing and growing in number. But there was no longer that rush of first love, that buzz in the air, the excitement that happens when you are enjoying and pursuing your heart’s desire. We wanted to remind our fellow foamheads that we’ve got a great thing going here, and we shouldn’t forget it. Our “barstool movement” spawned the first Oregon Beer Week, and it was so full of events that it grew to nine days long. The very next year, we made it a month, and it’s been going strong ever since.

And, thanks to some outside eyes, I’ve taken another look at our statewide craft beer culture. I no longer am concerned that we Oregonians are taking it for granted. Instead, I think of it as a couple that’s been married for awhile: the passion is still there, the love is even deeper than ever, but it fits so comfortably that it’s just a part of our daily lives; it’s been woven into our social fabric here in Oregon. But, like that same couple, it’s still important to take some time to celebrate that passion. Couples celebrate anniversaries, and I like to think of Oregon Craft Beer Month as our anniversary.

We Oregonians will be celebrating all month long, and if you’re from out of state, we’d love it if you’d join us in raising a toast sometime during July to one of the richest and oldest craft beer cultures in America.

Or come visit us sometime. We’ll keep the taps open for you.

The OLCC's decision would kill homebrew competitions like the Widmer Collaborator Project.

At issue is a state law, ORS 471.403, to be specific, that reads, “No person shall brew, ferment, distill, blend or rectify any alcoholic liquor unless licensed so to do by the Oregon Liquor Control Commission. However, the Liquor Control Act does not apply to the making or keeping of naturally fermented wines and fruit juices or beer in the home, for home consumption and not for sale.”

The hiccup in the law was brought to light by a committee of the Oregon State Fair, which asked the OLCC whether its big homebrew competition, which would have been in its 22nd year this August, was operating against that law because the home brew is transported outside the home and is sampled by judges.

On Monday, the OLCC came back with an answer: The judges in these competitions are considered members of the public, and as such, the state fair’s homebrew competition, and the home-made wine competition, too, which has been operating for more than 30 years, have been operating illegally and will be shut down.

In other words, Aunt Sally’s apple pie has a shot at getting a blue ribbon at the state fair — but not her homebrew. It also means that home brewers (and wine-makers) in Oregon won’t be able to hold competitions.

It also appears that home brewers might not even be able to participate in other competitions outside the state; the OLCC is ruling that homebrew can’t be transported, because the law stipulates the beer must be consumed at the home where it is brewed. Heck, home brewers might not even be able to legally bring a corny keg of their latest IPA to friend’s summer barbecue the way the OLCC is currently interpreting the law.

Obviously, this is beyond ridiculous. It’s a short-sighted response to an outdated law. But the implications could be catastrophic to the state’s thriving beer culture. After all, it’s the home brewers that spawned the craft beer culture, and many a home brewer has “gone pro” after honing his or her skills at the homebrew level.

Indeed, at least two Portland-based homebrew clubs are being impacted by this mess. PDX Brewers have already decided to ban homebrew from its meetings, and the Oregon Brew Crew, one of the oldest homebrew clubs in the country, is meeting later today (Tuesday) to discuss whether to ban members from bringing homebrew to meetings. In-house club competitions, which are held monthly to help brewers learn more about brewing specific styles, will probably also be discontinued, and several larger competitions, including the American Homebrewers Association-sanctioned Fall Classic, and the in-club Collaborator Project, in which winners get to brew their winning beer at Widmer Brothers Brewing, will no doubt become a thing of the past. (Rob Widmer tells me they are having a “regulations specialist” look into this mess as I type).

For a very beer-centric state, the OLCC’s decision sure messes up a key element in this important and thriving industry — one that infuses more than $2.33 billion into the state’s coffers each year (according to the Oregon Brewers Guild) — not to mention being a source of state pride.

What can you do? If you are a craft beer lover and/or home brewer, even if you don’t live in Oregon, please consider giving good beer a voice in this important issue. You can find contact information for the state’s representatives here and a listing for the senators here.

If you live in-state, I think the motivation for them to listen to our voices should be pretty clear. But if you are from out-of-state, perhaps the legislators would want to hear your perspective as well — as an outsider who enjoys Oregon beer and maybe even comes here to visit and spend some of your hard-earned money. Or might not any more.

Oh, and while you’re at it, you can contact the OLCC here.

What Stan might not know is that he has very quietly and steadfastly been one of my mentors for more than a decade now as I’ve pursued being a beer communicator/evangelist. I am constantly impressed with Stan’s work, both in quantity and in quality, and with his generosity of his time and knowledge.

He’s one cool dude, too; I’ve hooked up with him for beers in my hometown of Portland while he was traveling, at JazzFest in New Orleans, at Great American Beer Festival in Denver, and in his hometown of Albuquerque for a beer or two while on assignment for my “real job.” In fact, he and I shared the spotlight as two of the first-ever recipients for the Beer Journalism Awards at the GABF a few years ago. Every time I meet up with Stan, I am reminded that he is fun, interesting, and has some great insight into the past, present and future of craft beer and home brewing.

Some pretty quaffable-looking samples.

Stan didn’t do any ’splainin’ about his quibble with quaffable, but I am guessing some of it has to do with its infusion in the wine world. A quick quest on Google makes several references such as “(usually referring to wine) Easy to drink” and “(tasting term) used to describe a wine that is pleasant to drink but not deserving of careful tasting attention.”

Or it could be because “quaffable” doesn’t even have an entry in the online version of Merriam-Webster, the dictionary that is often considered the “official” resource for writers. (All you get is a referral to “qualifiable” instead.)

No matter the reason, Stan doesn’t like it. But, despite my affection and respect for Stan, I am going on the record as being a member of the “quaffable” camp.

For one thing, it’s a great Scrabble word (nobody’s ever tried the “not in Webster’s” argument on me — yet). And, “quaffable” is fun to say and write; I use it in my radio show, Beer O’Clock!, especially when I describe certain beers for the “Beer of the Week” segment — while “quaffable” doesn’t roll off the tongue, it does kind of wobble, which seems to fit the word to a T.

As a fan of alliteration, I love the way you can play it against other words (Kolsch is quite quaffable in Cologne, for example). But mostly, “quaffable” is a very visual word for me. It evokes hot-summer-day drinking; those times when you want something wet, refreshing and lighter on the palate that is still darn tasty, but isn’t so complex it takes your focus away from the moment. Except, of course, when you stop just long enough to realize you want to quaff another one!

What are your thoughts on “quaffable?” Should beer writers be using “wine words?” Do you scoff at those who quaff? What are some of your favorite words to describe beers?