As long-time Coloradoans, periodic Georgians and accidental New Yorkers, the idea of driving East to reach the mountains was at the very least a foreign concept—but an inviting one nonetheless. We loaded our trusty little car on a Friday morning parked in San Francisco, left enough room for a case of bottles for the return trip and were off to explore a new terrain.
We’d both traveled to Lake Tahoe in years past—as early 20-somethings—and remembered South Lake as a beautiful area full of dingy casinos, road-side motels and the bluest water outside the Gulf of Mexico. All we knew of North Lake was that it’s dangerously close to Reno (nothing good happens in Reno… except Buckbean Brewing—outstanding Black Noddy!), there’s plenty of skiing… and there’s a tiny little brewery called FiftyFifty Brewing (or 50.50 if you prefer.) We’d happened upon a bottle of Concentrated Evil in the months prior—probably drawn in by the devilish skeleton on the label—and remembered not feeling blown away. But every brewery deserves greater exploration—writing off an entire brewery based on one beer is like dismissing a band for making one less-than-awesome album (apropos for Truckee, I refer you to Built to Last[1]).
Fast forward several hours and a few pit stops later, and we arrived in Truckee. The town puts out a very distinct ‘Kerouac would love this place’, crossroads sort of vibe. Snow hadn’t fallen in nearly a week and it showed—the town was wet, dirty and reminded me of the mud flap from a Denver DOT sand truck. The train tracks running through the center of town bore no charm… and the brick storefronts that faced the tracks did their best to deflect all that passed through Truckee. But beneath the grit, traffic and tourism—there was something there. Clearly.
Moving on—after a glorious three-hour snowshoe trek along the creek/tracks/trail/thing, it was time for the #1 reason we came to Truckee. The Beer. Oh, the beer. If you recall what we mentioned moments ago about Concentrated Evil[2] being uneventful—that all changed quickly when we made it to FiftyFifty Brewing Company.
We showed up early for our appointment with head brewer, Todd Ashman, and spent the time examining the respectable (albeit slightly out of place), lodge-y establishment and helping ourselves to a sample of the eight draft beers on tap that evening. The buzz in the place was palpable… people were giddy for their après ski—and even more giddy to know it was lovingly crafted beer vs. an over-priced Bud Light at the Squaw Valley Mountain House. The sampler consisted of the usual suspects—a golden ale, pale ale, IPA, a porter, a stout, etc. All quite good—but then Todd showed up and our world forever changed.
Today’s brewer is a rock star of sorts—they are known by name, recognized by fans, and adored by many… and they LOVE IT. But not Todd… Todd is not about the notoriety or fame. He’s about making the best damn beer you’ve ever tasted. Like many great musicians, Todd hates the spotlight. He’s a craftsman—not a performer—and he knows it. So needless to say, the appearance of two overly-enthusiastic beer bloggers was enough to put Todd on guard. He ventured over to our table and looked suspiciously at the half-drunk sampler that sat between us. Todd graciously allowed us to finish our sampler and gave us the perfunctory explanations that any good draft beer deserves. And by all standards, these were respectable draft beers—any craft beer enthusiast would recognize that immediately.
Fast forward 15 minutes and Todd has ushered us into the brewery itself, away from the increasing, post-mountain clamor of the restaurant. To say the brewery was on the smaller side is an understatement—at one point, we scaled a precarious, retractable staircase to reach the German-built mill in the ‘attic’. It was awesome.
As Todd continued to enchant us with stories of his amazing tenure as a brewer, the light started to come on as to exactly what this man had accomplished. Todd is a pioneer (and a poet) in the world of barrel-aged beers. Over the next two hours, we learned that the true magic behind the 50.50 label can only be expressed through the Eclipse series of barrel-aged stouts. To this day, the word Eclipse sends me into a near frenzy (now I know what it means to be a member of Team Edward.)
We proceeded to sample the Four Roses, the Evan Williams and the Elijah Craig—each one growing more amazing, complex and exciting, in part due to the new world we were discovering (barrel-aged was not new, but Eclipse was), but also due to the passion and enthusiasm demonstrated by their maker as Todd took us through detailed explanations of what the beers mean to him. He also explained the tedious labor of love that goes into hand-wax-dipping every bottle of Eclipse to get that signature mark. Todd was equal parts proud and humbled by his work—he was the first one to criticize the slightest shortcomings of his beer and the first to be surprised by the overwhelming reception which they generate.
Months later, we were treated to a second tasting of the elusive Eclipse at TCHO chocolate factory in San Francisco—courtesy of the good folks at TCHO, FiftyFifty and City Beer Store (the best damn craft beer store in San Fran by the way). Todd was there, with the even MORE elusive Pappy Van Winkle in tow. Prior to meeting Todd, I had never heard of Pappy Van Winkle—and honestly I thought it was a rather silly name. But no more—this beer is the pinnacle of barrel-aged wonder…or craft beer in general for that matter. It is indescribably delicious, profoundly complex and incredibly scarce. Just take a quick look online at your favorite beer rating site and you’ll see that our sentiment is shared by the masses. And as I learned in my college Economics class—scarcity does in fact create demand.
Before we heap further praise on this fine establishment, I encourage you to try it for yourself. Wherever you go for your finest bottles, ask kindly for a bottle of Eclipse. Find a friend, take a trip to the mountains or a lake and find the perfect place to listen to your favorite Grateful Dead album and savor a true American Beauty[3].
For outdoor enthusiasts, Tahoe has always been a must-visit destination. Now, the small town of Truckee in North Tahoe and FiftyFifty Brewing has earned to privilege of being at the top of any craft beer enthusiasts’ travel list. It’s truly a once-in-a-lifetime craft beer opportunity…much like an Eclipse.
Follow FiftyFifty Brewing Company on Twitter or friend them on Facebook.
This story was contributed by Kristina and Andy Simpson. Kristina (Twitter.com/hopmonkey) is a digital and social media marketer who believes life and beer should be full of hops and monkeying around. Andy (Twitter.com/brewindie) works as a video game marketer during the day, drinks hoppy beer at night and is an avid music fan always. We are currently homebrewing our own 90-minute IPA and planning our 2011 beer festival calendar.