A Trip to the Beach: Newport, Oregon

Newport, Oregon: Last weekend in January. Maggie invited me to go stay at a neat hotel on the beach for a night with friends and coworkers. There was a wicked storm raging almost the entire time we were there, which was radical and surreal. Since a "normal" winter day at the beach is usually drizzly and cold, we all secretly hoped that a storm would roll through and give us some excitement. There really is nothing like a powerful winter storm on the Oregon coast. I really do love them.

Ahem.

The Plan: Eat fancy food, drink wine, swim in the pool and hot tub, and generally party down in the hotel room and around the town.

Victory Conditions: Not getting kicked out of the hotel or getting a fight with any Coasties (people indigenous to the coastal region).

The Participants: Myself, Maggie, Princess D, Irish, Wine Boss, and Wife of Irish. I suppose it is timely and fair to mention that Maggie and I have been on a handful of dates, and we plan many more. I'm sure you will hear more about Maggie as we adventure together.

Extras: Sister Sarah, Motorhead, Raisin Face (bartender at the Sand Bar Saloon), many many un-named Coasties, and a host of lesbian waitresses at Georgie's Beachside Grill. We list them in case they happen upon this blog in hopes that they may be mentioned. I don't want anybody to feel left out. However, I offer no explaination of who they might be or what role they played in our adventure.

Final Results and Statistics: Several ruined linens in the hotel due to some rampant misuse of Pinot Noir, one pissed off bartender at a local saloon (Raisin Face), massive consumption of wine and seafood, and a four hour snore war, of which I was a witness, but played no part in.

In general, the entire escapade was an indisputable success.

Pictures and captions:

Some of the gang on the balcony of the hotel room (from left to right): Wine Boss, Maggie, Princess-D, and Irish

A pathetic Michael Jackson impersonation

Princess-D does a clown dance,... and holding TWO glasses or red no less!

Princess-D preaches from the complimentary Holy Bible. We learned how the many gates and walls of Jerusalem were fixed by many people and their sons. Rivetting, to be sure.

Wife of Irish seems to be attempting to photograph husband’s naughty bits
Immediately after Irish had taken a sip of red wine, I said something amusing and he spewed the contents of his oral cavity all over my nice white T-shirt. I am so proud to have such an authentic souvenir of the wine-soaked weekend.

Adventures in Biking

I bought a Trek mountain bike last summer. I haven’t been on as many rides as I would like, but I am getting out there a bit. I share with you some pictures from a couple rides. One of the rides was termed the Six Peak Challenge, which I and a handful of coworkers participated in and a cool, drizzly weekend in January. We went into a nearby forest, and biked to the top of the six tallest peaks in immediate area. It was brutal and painful near the end of the nearly 40 mile ride, but all those that set out to do it finished it, and came away with a great sense of accomplishment.

Now, the pictures:

Me, in my new biking gear acquired at Xmas

Blair and I play it cool after the ride up the steep trail leading to Forest Peak.
Before I got a front fender, I became all too familiar with the taste of mud.
Dazed after reaching one of the peaks on the Six Peak Challenge
The Six Peak gang, resting briefly atop Dimple Hill.

Self portrait, Dimple Hill.

Celebration atop what may be McCullough peak.

A wrong turn was made near the summit of one of the peaks, landing us in a thick patch of reprod.

Another beer update

Don't worry, I'll have more to talk about besides beer here. This is just to satisfy my fans. Look for further updates immediately after this.

So I’ve been idle in this blogosphere. So much happened with beer that I don’t know where to begin. Suffice to say that we still brew about every two weeks, and we have a few new recruits in the land of homebrew. Jeff and James can be seen below, expressing extreme excitement over their boiling wort. After stealing some equipment from a trusting relative, they dove head first into brewing, and are quick learners. Look out for some champion concoctions from these two.
Mike the Drunk has also taken up the habit. Instead of showing pictures of him brewing his fist batch, I am distracted by this very cute picture of his daughter, which I post instead.
My father was present for the brewing of our first Pilsner, termed PSI (not explained here). We found that he was most helpful with the actual brewing when performing the task shown below.
As a highlight, my friend bet my father five bucks he wouldn’t eat the cooked down malted barley. Without hesitation, dad helped himself to a heaping spoonful,… and them promptly went back for seconds. We all had to try it then. It tasted like sweet oatmeal, but was nearly un-chewable, and went down pretty rough. A pleasant taste, with an awful texture.
During the brewing the PSI, B-Pizzle (right, below) oversaw the smoked salmon operation outside. With the aid of our custom cardboard wind shelter (with mandatory fire suppression equipment on hot-standby) we cooked up some of the best salmon I’ve ever had.
Last, I give you this darling picture of a process called “dry hopping”. This is where dry hops are placed in the brew while it ferments. I think it is very pretty.