Colorado Boy (Ridgeway, CO)

Ouray is indeed a cute, quaint little mining town, but its no Orvis hot springs.  Outside of Ridgeway, about 10 miles north of Ouray, the Orvis hot springs allow their patrons to finally, FINALLY, get naked and soak their birthday suits till they’re lobster pink.   Go ahead and hang your inhibitions up with your clothes, because this tepid world rarely allows for opportunities to let it all hang out.  Fortunately for us, we were treated to a wonderfully calm evening floating around in the dark with other perfect strangers, just beyond the reach of the storm dusting the mountains behind us.

Fortunately for us as well, another brewery of fine repute was just down the road.  My first idea about the origin name for Colorado Boy was that it must be named after some kid that in 1885, was orphaned when his parents were tragically killed in an avalanche while pursuing their dreams of baggin’ fourteener peaks.  Instead of fearing the indifferent and monstrously satanic Rockies that claimed his parents, he set out to climb every peak in Colorado, and after defeating them all by the age of sixteen, went on to climb every peak in the country and also save a number of baby ducks (look for the inspiring true story out on DVD this fall).

 

But no, it’s instead named after a giant mine near by.  Yeah.  Giant, filthy, environmentally destructive and morally degrading mine.  If this brewery were smart, they’d roll with my story, never mind it’s completely false, but still, people want to buy a story of their product, not just the product.  Colorado Boy’s beer, back stories aside, still served up satanic-mountain-defeating’s worth of whoop ass.

Irish Red:  Their award winning red (as in Gold at the Great American Beer Festival), this beer is straight-up red, red like Rambo’s bandana, red like Karl Rove’s undies or Joseph Stalin’s birthday party balloons.  Red.  It’s also pretty good.

Alt-beir:  This is a different take on the Oktoberfest beers you typically find plaguing the beer world this time of year.  Everyone wants to be as authentic as possible, and so these guys imported their hops all the way from Germany.  According to some, unless your beer isn’t made in Munich, it aint Oktobeiry enough to be an Oktoberfest!  Whatever.  This beer is rich and caramel-sweet and at least stood out amongst many of the Oktoberfest beers we’d had on the trip.  I approve.

Rating:  23 out of 27 peculiarly non-awkward moments sitting naked next to someone in the hot springs.