To bastardize a line from Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself – “And I say to any man or woman, Let your beer stand cool and composed before a million universes.” This beer is curious, mysterious, learning all the time. It opens up and evolves, comfortable with itself before it vanishes forever and others come to take its place. It exists, with a sole purpose of being an omnipresent vehicle, to deliver Galaxy, Strata, Citra, and Comet hops straight to your domepiece. If Walt was still around, we can easily here him say “Slurp these dank nugz of lupulawesomeness. For they, and you, will eventually fade.”
6.9% abv, 60 IBUs