Smoke, Baby

We've experienced some nasty days with the Québec wildfires and the smoke that has spread into Ontario and further south (and now, it seems, the smoke has made its way across the Atlantic).

Because I work from home and don't usually stray far, I haven't witnessed the smoke very often. There was one morning, a couple of weeks ago, when I was taking trash to the curb and noticed that I seemed foggy outside, until I breathed in and smelled the burning odour. We've had to keep our windows closed and our cat, Camille, who usually rules in our backyard during the summer months, has had to stay inside.

The most dramatic experience of the wildfires came to us on Sunday, when we awoke from the trailer that we had rented to visit Algonquin Provincial Park. Our plan was to have an early morning paddle before we prepared breakfast and packed up for our return home.

But as soon as we stepped out of the trailer and looked at Rock Lake, we knew that kayaking wasn't a good idea. The view was dramatically different than it had been the previous day.

Top photo: Saturday morning; bottom photo: Sunday morning.

DW and I were so thankful that we had filled our Saturday with the kayaking and hiking activities that were the reason we had chosen this location. Had the smoke arrived just one day earlier, the weekend would have been a bust.

And we wouldn't have seen the moose on the other end of the lake.

I can't look at the bottom photo without a song from Hawksley Workman popping in my head, even though it has nothing to do with forest fires. If you know the song, it might be your earworm, too.

If you have smoke in your area, stay safe. Avoid prolonged exposure and outdoor activities as much as you can, and wear a mask if you have to be out.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Rings of Saturn

There seems to be no end to the hazy pale ales that are flooding the market but every once and a while, there are those that stand out. I've written about this style of beer so often that I have to go through my list of beer reviews to actually remember which have been my favourite.

There are a lot.

I even think that this style of beer is now my favourite, surpassing even a good stout, a style that I've loved since my early 20s. That's a long time ago.

Despite my ongoing beef with this style being associated with IPAs, I've come to love that tropical fruitiness. But, again, how does one make a brew like this that stands out.

Here's one that does for me:

Rings of Saturn Hazy IPA (6.5% ABV; 35 IBUs)
High Park Brewery
Toronto ON

Appearance: pours an unfiltered, goldish apricot that is followed up by sediment that makes for a cloudy, deep orange, similar to grapefruit juice. A creamy white head pours thick and leaves a solid cap that clings to the sides of the glass.

Nose: oranges, limes, mangos, and a kiss of pine resin that actually made my nose run.

Palate: the pine leads on the tongue and is backed up with pineapple juice and guava, and finishes with bitter hops and a touch of peaches.

Overall impression: Rings of Saturn comes full circle with bitterness perfectly balanced with ripe fruit and then back to bitterness. Classified on the can as a full-bodied New England-styled, hazy IPA, this ale is all that. The beer is out of this world.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

High Park Brewery, according to its Web site, has partnered with Lost Craft under one roof. It's no surprise that I like this hazy ale as I've also enjoyed a couple of offerings of Lost Craft (their Neapolitan Ice Cream Stout really stood out for me). I'm going to have to pay them a visit the next time that I'm in Toronto.

In the meantime, both High Park and Lost Craft brews can be found at your friendly neighbourhood LCBO or at a participating grocery store. Grab some for this upcoming Canada Day weekend.

Cheers!

Rock Lake Highlights

Immersed in Nature

Let me be clear: I like being out in nature.

I love the lush forests, the clean lakes, the rocky lookouts. I love to hike and I seem to be my happiest when I'm paddling in my kayak—when I'm not faced with a long trek, directly into the wind, with white caps and swells on the water.

I love listening to the songs of birds and seeing woodland creatures in their natural habitat. Except bears: I'm afraid of bears.

So our full day at Rock Lake, in Algonquin Provincial Park, was almost perfect.

After a pancake breakfast with a fresh-berry maple syrup, we took our kayaks to the beach and set out. We had already done a paddle trip, the previous afternoon, where we went along a winding stream that connects Rock Lake to Whitefish Lake. We paddled more than halfway up one side of the lake before we crossed to the other shore and paddled back to Rock Lake.

That was an eight kilometer trek, round trip.

This time, we headed south on Rock Lake to Petro Bay, where sheer rock cliffs tower upward from the water and climb at least 10 metres above, where cedar and other evergreen trees look down on you. But what's really interesting about these cliffs are the old petroglyph artwork of the first nation's people. We could paddle right up to these centuries-old markings in the rock.

From there, we continued southward to a 375-metre portage, that takes travelers to Pen Lake. Between these two lakes, the Madawaska River flows along a series of waterfalls, making the portage a nice hike with plenty to see. We didn't take our kayaks along the portage but we checked out the put-in for Pen Lake and stopped at the waterfall.

On our way back toward camp, we encountered a special surprise. Along the edge of the lake, among a marshy area, we spotted a female moose (she was impossible to miss). We spent about a half hour, sitting in our kayaks, taking photos and video, and just marvelling at her beauty.

She didn't seem too bothered by us but gave me a funny look when my kayak drifted too close, and I had to paddle backwards to give her more space.

When we made it back to camp, we were disappointed by the noise that was coming from other trailers near ours. People older than us were blasting their music (and it wasn't even good music). We quickly locked up our kayaks, made lunch, replenished our water supply, and drove to Booth's Rock, a five-kilometre hiking trail that leads up to the top of a rocky cliff that gives a commanding view of Rock Lake and the surrounding area.

It's a rigorous hike for the physically fit, but I was spurred on by the masses of mosquitos and deer flies that were constantly attacking. We made it to the lookout, out of breath, sweating profusely, and half-eaten alive, but in record time (about 45 minutes, when they say to count on an hour to climb).

We returned to our campsite and it was still noisy, but I was so exhausted that I climbed into our camper, stripped down, turned on the air conditioner, and had a nap. With the doors closed and the fan going, I practically muffled out a neighbour's obnoxious music.

After dinner, DW and I got in our vehicle and took a drive along Highway 60 to find a good vantage to photograph the sunset, but we made alternate plans when we spotted a male moose off to the side of the road, in the bushes and eating leaves.

I can shoot a sunset any time. Capturing images of these fantastic beasts? This was only our second-ever opportunity.

We also spotted two more moose on separate occasions as we cruised the highway but didn't stop. We slowed to marvel but kept going. We had all the photos we needed and we were losing light.

I love being out in nature.

From kayaking to hiking, from ancient art on rock walls to wildlife, our full day in Algonquin Park was well worth the journey.

I'll share more photos, tomorrow.

Back to the Wilderness

"It's not a tent. There's a proper bed with four solid walls, just as you've requested."

I balked. "We're still cooking and cleaning dishes outdoors."

"This has a kitchen with running water."

It's my fault. I had told DW that I didn't like sleeping on the ground, in a tent. I didn't like having to wash up dishes in a bin, at a picnic table. I didn't like having to worry that my food would attract creatures—particularly, bears—even though we devised a great pully system on our last camping trip.

That was supposed to be my last camping trip.

DW is determined. She knows that, several years ago, I enjoyed camping when we rented a medium-sized camper van and took it to Sandbanks Provincial Park and to Boucherville Islands National Park, just outside of Montreal. We had double-sized bunkbeds, a kitchen and dining area, and best of all, a fully-working bathroom with a shower.

Many of the home comforts, out in nature.

My mistake was saying that I could rent a camper again, that we could even have something smaller if it was just DW and myself (our kids came with us to Sandbanks). We had an outstanding deal on that camper van, one that I was sure we'd never see again, and I've never seen a smaller vehicle for camping other than a pop-up trailer, which I told her I wasn't interested in.

This wasn't a pop-up trailer.

DW found a deal on a mini camping trailer that she just couldn't resist. And because we've discussed a future, cross-Canada road trip, she said that using one of these would be necessary to save on hotel expenses.

"Let's do a test getaway."

We were back in Algonquin Park this weekend. We weren't doing any interior camping but rather in a campground that had electrical hookups so that we could power up the small camper.

The biggest challenge was backing the trailer into our site. I haven't had much experience towing trailers and I've usually lucked out when it came to not needing to back up into a tight spot. It took me a couple of attempts to line up the trailer to where we wanted it, but as soon as we were in our site, I never had to back up again.

Until we returned the trailer, that is, and I actually managed to put the trailer exactly where it needed to be on the first try.

I have to admit, the camper was much better than a tent. The bed was queen-sized and though it could have used another inch thickness it wasn't too bad (it was about two inches thick and I could feel the floor underneath). The cabin had lights, big windows (including a sky light), and it had both air conditioning and a heater, though on both nights, the ceiling fan was enough to keep us cool on this hot weekend.

Though the trailer had a kitchen area with a two-burner gas stove, a microwave oven, and a sink with running water (cold only), it didn't have a refrigerator: rather, it had a heavy-duty cooler bag that actually kept our food cold for the two days (six meals) that we were there. Still, we were washing dishes outside, where the mosquitos and deer flies were ferocious.

Because we wanted the full effect of this camper, we picked a site with electrical hookups. The problem with these sites, especially at Rock Lake Campsite, was that it's more like a parking lot with a few trees than a wooded camp ground. There's no privacy from neighbours. There's no peace and quiet.

It's just camp trailer after camp trailer, with noisy neighbours who blare there shitty music all day long.

No thanks.

Of course, our time away from the campsite was what I enjoy the most. We spent a few hours in our kayaks, exploring the pictographs on high-rising rock faces. We hiked to a waterfall and up to a high lookout.

And we saw moose. On four separate occasions. I'll share more of that later this week.

Did I like sleeping in a camper? Sure, it was cozy and was much better than sleeping in a tent. Did it enhance the overall camping experience? Beyond sleeping, not really. It did save us time having to walk to a water station to fill a bucket every time we wanted to wash our dishes but we still had to cook and clean outside. There was a water-boil advisory for Rock Lake, so by filling the water reservoir before we reached the campsite, we didn't have to worry about running out of water or having to boil anything.

Would I ever camp with a trailer in a site with electric hookups again? No. Never. It's not for me. It's not even for DW.

So I told DW that this was a good attempt to keep me interested in camping, but I would only use one of these trailers if we were doing a cross-country road trip and we passed through some irresistible national or provincial parks, where this was the only way to stop and take them in.

I'd also need hotels or motels. And we'd need to pick a time of year when the bugs were gone.

Also, we'd need a vehicle with better towing capacity. Our CR-V was at its maximum and sometimes struggled to get up some of the hills in the Highway 60 corridor of Algonquin Park. We went through a lot of gas getting to the park and back home.

That was our weekend adventure with a camping trailer. I'll share the better parts of the trip, starting tomorrow.

Stay tuned.

The Camera You've Got

Last weekend, DW and I drove down to Toronto to visit Kid 2. It had been a while since we've been to the GTA, and even though she comes to Ottawa each month for a 24-hour stay, while she has braces that need attention, it was good to see her in her own environment.

I told myself that I'd also take some time, on our 24-hour visit to Toronto, to take my D-SLR and capture some street photography. I packed my Nikon D750 with a Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 lens, and challenged myself to capture interesting images with this one, prime lens.

Things didn't go as planned.

Kid 2 had a huge amount of laundry that had piled up and she was stressed because she felt overwhelmed by the accumulation and she needed to get it done before she ran out of clothes. So when DW and I arrived, we gathered up her laundry and headed to a nearby laundromat.

We filled six washing machines.

When the wash cycle on the machines was finished, I encouraged DW and Kid 2 to take her wash-and-hang loads back to her apartment and hang them up. I would supervise the loads that were in the dryers and call when they were done.

Of course, when DW and Kid 2 drove away, I realized that my D-SLR was in the car with them.

I didn't want to leave the laundromat and several signs urged customers to not leave laundry unattended, so I came up with an idea to take photos of the laundromat while I waited. I wished that I had my Nikon with me but I did have my smartphone.

The best camera, they say, is the one you've got on you.

I took the images that you may have seen in this week's Wordless Wednesday post.

After I had taken my shots I reviewed them off my phone, deleting the ones that I thought were unusable. The first shot that I had captured, with the row of opened washing machines, was okay but I figured it would have been better if I had set of all of the doors to be open the same amount, rather than random.

I mean, random is natural and good, but I was looking for uniformity in a shot. Though, I didn't touch the handles for the doors. I preserved some randomness.

I went back to the machines, fixed the doors, changed the angle somewhat, and took the shot.

Samsung S10: ƒ/2.4; 1/60 sec; 6mm; ISO 100

Better.

Except, I didn't quite like the light and the reflection of colour from the painted walls on the chrome, circular doors. My solution was to change the image to black and white. Not by placing a filter over the image but by removing all colour saturation from it. When I use photo-editing software, I tend to either reduce the saturation or apply a greyscale filter, rather than going into the specific black-and-white settings to get the look I want.

Finally, because I wanted to focus on the doors and nothing else in the image, I chose to crop the photo to a square. Sure, I lost a couple of the doors but the focus is drawn to the remaining doors and nothing else.

I may not have had the camera that I planned to use but I'm glad that I had some sort of camera on me

Happy Friday!

Samsung S10: ƒ/2.4; 1/60 sec; 6mm; ISO 100

Beer O'Clock: From Beyond

Imagine someone from the UK visiting Canada, marveling at all of the wonders our country has to offer, but who feels a pang for home. They love their vacation but are just a touch homesick.

They see a pub or restaurant and decide to stop for a meal and a pint. On the menu, they find an IPA listed in the beer section and they feel that they'll be able to have a small taste from home. With their food, they order a pint of the listed IPA.

Now, imagine the look on their face when the server delivers a glass with a cloudy, orange ale that smells like mangoes, or pineapple, or guava. Imagine that Brit taking a sip and detecting more of these tropical fruits and not much of a bitter finish.

They'd probably miss their home even more, wouldn't they?

Before I left Twitter, I used to follow the brilliant Scottish detective novelist, Ian Rankin, and noticed a tweet he had sent out when he was in Ottawa to talk about his latest Rebus novel. He was sitting on a patio in the Byward Market, and he had taken a photo of a glass of ale that he had ordered. He had said something to the effect that he had ordered an IPA, and apparently what he got was what was supposed to pass as an IPA in Canada.

It looked like a large glass of orange juice.

How embarrassing for us.

I, myself, am frustrated when I shop for beer. I know that if I see 'NEIPA' or 'hazy IPA' on a can's label, I'm going to get a hazy, fruity, hoppy pale ale. This is one of my favourite styles of beer but so is a classic, British-style IPA.

I know, I rant about this all the time, but I've decided that this will be my last gripe. And it's going to be a doozey but I'll shut up afterwards.

So, I'll often buy beer that is labeled 'NEIPA' or 'DDH IPA' or other descriptors before 'IPA,' and I know that I'm not getting a traditional India Pale Ale. I've come to accept that. But when I pick up a beer that has no descriptor other than to call itself an IPA, that is what had better be in the can.

A couple of weeks ago, when I was picking up some beer at my friendly neighbourhood LCBO, I placed all sorts of hazy IPAs in my shopping basket, knowing that I was getting the juicy brews that seem to be the standard for Canadian brewers.

But one can simply read 'IPA,' and I thought I'd add it to the basket because there was no hint that it was anything but an India Pale Ale. A traditional India Pale Ale.

I cracked it open and started pouring it in my glass. What did I see? Would it be a style that originates from beyond?

From Beyond IPA (6% ABV)
Rainhard Brewing
Toronto ON

Appearance: pours a... oh... oh no... God, no... hazy apricot-orange with a thick, foamy-white head that settles to a solid creamy cap. I was already disappointed at this point and didn't even want to take the effort to clean up the photo I shot of my poured glass.

Nose: ugh... lush tropical pineapple and guava, with notes of puréed pears.

Palate: FFS... the pear is a bit more pronounced at first, backed up by pineapple juice. The finish is short and I didn't detect much in the way of bitterness.

Overall impression: Rainhard, you make a decent hazy ale. It's thirst-quenching and has nice flavours but there are literally hundreds, if not thousands, of breweries in Canada and the U.S. that make a similar, if not better, hazy pale ale.

But when it comes to making an India Pale Ale, I'd have to admit that Alexander Keith makes a better IPA, and theirs is shit. There is nothing in this beer that resembles a traditional, British-style, original IPA.

I'm sure that no Brit would be impressed if they bought this can, with only IPA on the can and nothing else to identify what was inside it. And had Ian Rankin opened this can and poured it in his glass, I'm sure it would warrant another tweet with a photo and a WTF-is-this post.

When I want a hazy, juicy ale, I'll ask for one. I'll search for a NEIPA (which should really be NEPA because India has nothing to do with it) or other similar styles.

But if you call yourself an IPA and only an IPA, there had better be an India Pale Ale in my glass.

For me, this is false advertising and fraud. I feel deceived and want my money back.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺

With a name like From Beyond, my hopes were high that I'd be getting an IPA that was not in the ranks of a North American, poorly named but tasty ale, but a true IPA that follows a tradition that comes from beyond, from the UK.

Not even remotely.

And I'm sorry to say that it doesn't even stand out among the hazy pale ales that don't deserve an I but are lovely for being what they are.

Cheers.

A Day in the Life of Hanging Out in a Toronto Laundromat

Changing My Mind Is Better Than Losing It

In a panic, last week, I reached out to the organizer of next month's Photo Synthesis exhibit. I had submitted the photos that I wanted to include but I had second thoughts on four of them.

By saying that I had submitted the photos, I meant that I had given them 13 low-resolution copies of the image files, of which the promoter of the exhibit would use in advertising for the event, which runs from July 6 to the end of the month. My panic came from the thought that promotional material may have already been printed.

I didn't like four of my submissions. They were a series of similar shots, produced as 4" x 6" prints in matted, 5" x 7" frames. Two vertical images and two horizontal images that would be arranged to occupy a square space.

I thought the photos were okay when I considered submitting them. I had them printed and mounted years ago and they had actually been hanging on a wall at work, along with more of my photos and those from other photographers in the company.

But almost immediately after submitting these four photos, among my others, I decided that I really didn't like the images. In fact, I hated them.

And now I was going to lose my mind if it was too late to do anything about them.

I have a photo hanging on a wall in my home that I like better than any of the series of four. It's a sunset shot of the Grand Canyon, in Arizona, that I shot at sunset, seconds before I lost my hat to the wind.

(I always wonder if anyone has found it and is now wearing it. I hate to think it's gone to waste, far down the canyon.)

I created a low-res copy of the photo and sent it to the organizer, hopeful that I wasn't too late. And as luck would have it, I wasn't. And she said that she loved the new submission.

So, I have 10 photos that will be on display and for sale at the Photo Synthesis exhibit, at the Arbor Gallery, in Vankleek Hill. I know that the venue is a fair distance from Ottawa and that coming out is a big commitment, but the town is lovely and is worth the drive. The event's vernissage is on Saturday, July 8, from 1 to 4, and you'll get to meet all of the photographers and admire their work.

Please consider coming out.

The Tipping Point

It's only taken 12 years.

They say that there's a point when the number of visitors to your blog explodes. I thought that had happened years ago, when I went from about 12 readers per day to 150. I was so excited and a bit humbled that so many people would want to read my material.

Honestly, writing posts for my blog is more of a mental-therapy exercise for myself than anything else, though I'm honoured to have loyal followers. Thank you so much. I hope I can be an entertaining distraction for part of your hectic day.

There have been times through the course of The Brown Knowser when I've had spikes in readership, but those spikes usually center on a particular post that has caught attention over one or two days.

It seems as though, possibly, that I've caught a lot more attention.

Since the end of May, my daily number of visitors has gone from an average of 150 people (or bots, perhaps?) to an average of more than 1,200 views. Some days, my blog has seen more than 80 views per hour and has even broken 2,000 views in a single day.

The last 30 days, as of midnight, June 18.

If things stay on course, I'm looking to break well over 30,000 views this month. Crazy!

All-time views, as of midnight, June 18.

I'm trying to think what it could be that I've done differently. After I moved from Twitter to Mastodon, last November, I went from announcing my blog posts from three times a day to two. At first, the number of daily views dropped a little but started recovering after a couple of months.

When I learned that Twitter hadn't actually closed my account, I started reusing the account only to announce daily blog posts, and I did so only twice daily (sometimes, only once). My viewership stayed at about 150 to 160 views per day.

But I've noticed that over the past few months, some of my followers on Mastodon were boosting (like retweeting) my blog announcements. The overall average didn't change until May 30, when the number of daily views jumped to more than 960. On May 31, the viewership jumped to more than 1,300.

As I've said, my average viewership has been about 1,200 or so for the month of June. Tell me, dear folks, what have I done to draw this much attention?

Have I reached some sort of tipping point?

The pressure's on to not disappoint but not knowing what has caused this sudden jump in visitors makes it a challenge to keep the momentum going. Perhaps, me just doing me is enough?

Thank you to all of you for supporting my blog. If you want to support me further, consider subscribing to my YouTube channel and helping it grow. And, as always, you can buy me a coffee...

As this is a Monday and I used to post music at the start of the week, I thought I'd end this post with a song that popped into my head when I started writing it. It's "The Tipping Point," from Tears for Fears, which was released in February, 2022.

Happy Monday!

Bird Watching

I have a great respect for folks who are able to capture a razor-sharp image of a small bird.

I don't seem to have any trouble photographing some birds. The birds at my backyard feeder are fairly easy: I just set up my exposure for the light around the feeder and match a fast-enough shutter speed, and I focus on the feeder itself, ensuring that the focal length is deep enough to keep birds in focus.

Most times, I set up the camera on a tripod and just click away as birds arrive at the feeder.

In a forest setting, I can usually catch larger birds—herons, geese, and ducks—if they aren't taking flight; or, if they are, they're high enough that focus isn't as big a deal.

But I have a really hard time capturing small birds that flitter from branch to branch or tree to tree. By the time I spot the bird and bring my camera to where the bird is perched, it's moved on. I find myself doing nothing more than chasing the bird through my lens and am always one step behind.

Often, when DW and I are on a bird hunt on a nature trail, we bring sunflower seeds to lure the birds from the trees and into our hands. One of us will remain still while the other focuses on the handful of seeds, and will start firing away as soon as the birds appear.

But I feel as though that's cheating.

Chickadees seem to be the most common bird on our hikes but they also seem to be the most challenging to photograph, as they never seem to sit still for more than a second or two before they've moved on. Often on a nature walk, when we're not offering food, I come out of the woods with no usable images.

On our latest visit to Mud Lake, we heard lots of singing from yellow warblers but couldn't see them in the trees. (DW has an app on her phone that detects the birdsongs and identifies the bird.) At times, we could see them, high above the trees, on their way to another spot of the forest.

I felt it pointless to even lift my camera to my face, to try to capture the bird.

But as luck would have it, I did manage to see one yellow warbler on a branch, high up in a tree, and I was able to get my camera in position, focus, and take one snap before it moved on, deeper into the woods.

300mm; f/6.7; 1/500 sec; 800 ISO

It was my first photo of a yellow warbler.

I don't know if it's the quality of my lens or the aperture, or something else, but when I saw the photo on a computer screen, it didn't seem particularly sharp. Too slow of a shutter speed for the magnification? Too high an ISO?

Perhaps a tripod would have helped, but there's just no way I could have moved the camera fast enough to capture the warbler before it moved on if the camera was mounted to a tripod. Plus, I was standing in the middle of the main path and would have blocked other visitors if I had taken up this space for very long.

How do birders know where to position themselves and their equipment?

I should talk to one of the other photogs who arrive early at Mud Lake and stake out a spot with their massive telephoto lenses. How do they do it?

If you're a nature photographer and want to share your tips, please do so in the Comments section.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Short Hills Hazy IPA

As some of you might know, I was a wine aficionado long before I got into beer.

I was bringing bottles of wine to house parties, in late high school, when my friends would bring a case of beer and end up sitting on it, to prevent others from swiping any, while I could crack open a bottle of red wine, pour myself a glass, leave the bottle on the kitchen table, and schmooze throughout the house.

Nobody was interested in wine.

In my late 20s, I bought several books on the wine regions of the world and the myriad grape varieties. DW and I enrolled in the sommelier program at the local college, and took all the classes on learning about different styles of wine, the terroir of various wine regions and what soil produced what characteristics in a wine.

We could be served a wine, blind (without seeing the bottle or label), and there was a very good chance that we could tell you the grape variety and the origin of the wine. Once, I was able to discern the vintner and the vintage of the wine.

For Canadian wines, I've always liked the Niagara region and, in particular, the Beamsville Bench area, near Jordan, Ontario. One of my favourite wineries was and still is Cave Spring, and their Riesling was and is an excellent white wine.

Once, when DW and I were travelling to Eastern Canada, we made a stop a Jost Vineyards, in Nova Scotia, near the Northumberland Strait. I saw that they had a Riesling to sample and I was surprised: this delicate grape wasn't really suited to this climate. My curiosity pushed me to trying a glass.

As soon as I had swished the off-dry wine in my mouth, I gave my server a sideways glance. "You don't grow these grapes here, do you?" It was more of a matter-of-fact statement than a question.

"No," she said, "we import them."

"From Ontario," I offered, again, not as a question.

"Yes."

"From the Beamsville Bench. You get your grapes from Cave Spring, don't you?"

My server didn't know but was eager to find out. She excused herself and found the head vintner.

"Are you from Cave Spring?" the man asked me after we exchanged a handshake.

"No, but the flavour profile of this Riesling is unmistakable."

The vintner was impressed and we ended up chatting for some time. He poured DW and me various wines that Jost grew and produced, and he ended up not charging us for any of the glasses.

What does this story have to do with beer, you might ask?

Today's review is a beer that also comes from Beamsville. As the label of this hazy IPA states, it's a beer that comes from wine country.

But does it make me think of a Cave Spring Reserve Riesling?

Short Hills Hazy IPA (6.5% ABV; 40 IBUs)
Bench Brewing Company
Beamsville ON

Appearance: pours a hazy, pale apricot with a foamy white head that settles to a solid cap.

Nose: lush tropical notes of pineapple, tangerine, mango, and a hint of lychee. It's absolutely beautiful.

Palate: the pineapple and orange citrus come through is a light body, where the hops are tempered and give very little bitterness. There's a bit of the alcohol in the finish but it is not offensive at all. It makes for an easy-drinking, well-balanced ale.

Overall impression: I wondered if there was anything in this beer that would make me think of the white wines of the Beamsville Bench, and I have to say no. Not really. The Cave Spring Riesling has distinct lemony citrus without being tart. But other wines from the Bench have some tropical fruit; particularly, lychee.

I could see myself sitting on a patio at Vineland Estates Winery, which has one of the best views of the lands around Jordan, with the Niagara Escarpment and rolling hills that lead to Lake Ontario. And I can see myself enjoying this hazy ale as much as a glass of gewurztraminer. It tastes nothing like a true IPA but it's a great hazy pale ale.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺

While it would be easy to identify this beer style in a blind tasting, I don't think I've developed the skills to determine where this ale comes from. I wouldn't impress any brewmaster.

Cheers!

Fifty Shades of Kelsey