I am a lover of beer. I don’t shoot whiskey to get smashed up wasted with “the boys” and I don’t drink a glass or two of wine with dinner. I specifically love beer. IPAs in particular. So much, that anything short of an excellent India Pale Ale is just not that appealing to me.
Thusly, places like all of Oregon, Western North Carolina, and Colorado’s Front Range spoil me. Places where, alongside your Bud Limes and your Miller 64s and your Mike’s Hard Lemonades, they’ll always have at least one or two six packs of excellent beers.
And then you end up in Nowhere, South Carolina or Farfromnothing, Kansas and you realize that it’s all Coors Light, all the way, all day long.
This post comes with no insight. No special secret to finding good beer. Perhaps the only point I can make, the only advice to be given is to store a sixer or three of your favorite brews away for a rainy day…er, dry town.