James McKew

During a recent campout, Katie and I celebrated my fiftieth birthday dinner at the Carbondale Beer Works. She was skeptical, not of the brewery but of the town of Carbondale. “Why …what have you got against it?” I ask.
“I don’t know …it’s something about the name.” she says, “I never stop there. I just fly by on my way to you know …Aspen.”
Indeed, I can see her point.
Say the name to yourself; Carbon-dale.
It doesn’t invoke images of beauty, but instead some depressed situation …maybe the coal town of Butcher Hollow from that movie Coal Miner’s Daughter. But surprisingly, Carbondale is a pretty little town at the confluence of the Roaring Fork and Crystal River. Its name is a tribute to Carbondale, Pennsylvania, where many of the founding farmers came from. The town is also a hub of outdoor activities. North of here is Glenwood Springs, with mineral pools, an amusement park, and historic hotels. The town of Aspen is southeast, offering skiing and high-end shopping, and finally Redstone and Marble to the southwest … tiny mountain towns that will steal your heart.

Carbondale Beer Works or CBW is located in Carbondale’s downtown district.
At first I thought we were going into a military recruiting station or maybe a liquor store. The building from the outside has a strong resemblance to a former Post Office. We sit at a high-table against the far wall and take it all in as the waitress brings us four beer tasters to try, which is great that they’re not stingy with their samples. I settle on Avalanche Creek IPA, 6.9% ABV. We order some homemade tortilla chips and salsa both of which are very tasty. It’s relaxed for a late September afternoon; college football is on several overhead TVs, water arrives in what looks like old science experiment bottles from a chemistry class …very cool.

It all makes me think about my childhood and breweries.
In 1975, there were no micro-breweries that I was aware of ….of course I was ten years old and not paying attention to anything other than Planet of the Apes action figures and Star Trek reruns. But I do remember touring the Olympia Brewery in Olympia, Washington. My family was on summer vacation. In my memory I can see the huge steel vats, the guys walking around in lab coats, maybe the bready smell of malt mixed with industrial cleaners and of course the carpeted tasting room located high in the building where Brian and I had a shot glass worth of soda pop and perused the gift shop of beer themed trinkets while our grandparents sipped the golden brew.

The other brewery I remember was Budweiser, or more accurately, Busch Gardens theme park in Van Nuys, California. It was that era when Magic Mountain, Knott’s Berry Farm, Sea World, Fuji World, Disneyland, Universal Studios and other smaller themed attractions were springing up all over Southern California for the general masses to recreate in. Busch Gardens was the least expensive entry fee. If I recall it right, Budweiser spent $4 million to build the theme park, complete with magic shows, a log ride, boat tours and of course …birds. Some one thousand or more tropical and exotic birds that are rumored to still be seen flying around the San Fernando Valley long after the park has closed. A tram took you through the heart of the brewery, a massive industrial building to a ten year old kid.

This was the era of beer. My brother and I regularly wore advertising apparel and nobody thought a thing of it. Today …try sending a kid to first grade wearing a “Bring me a Coors” tee-shirt and see how long it takes before the school calls.
It was the seventies…a different time for sure. I mention all this to Katie and she says.
“Well …my parents had a liquor cabinet, in fact everyone did. It was what you did. Someone comes to your house, you offer them a mixed drink …you know …liquor.”
Liquor …the very word sounds a little smooth and rather taboo on my lips.
Her parents drank liquor apparently …and so did mine.

Brian and I lived with our grandparents twenty miles outside of town on the Nevada-California border, so on Friday nights there was no going out to dinner. We stayed home, my grandpa sat in a lawn chair on the back porch with a little keg shaped barbecue, the smell of burning jet fuel and Kingsford Charcoal hanging the air. His portable radio, A.M. of course, was tuned to the CBS Radio network. Northern Nevada only had two FM radio stations back then; one was hard rock, the other in Spanish.
Grandpa would say, “Jim, go inside and get me a hi-ball.”
I’d go in and tell my grandmother Louise. She’d get out a tall plastic tumbler with a floral pattern, get it ready and send me out the door as the waiter.
I tried it a couple times and wondered why anyone would willfully drink something so tart.
I think it was a mix of scotch and club soda on ice …pretty sure about this.
Katie’s mom drank Jack Daniel’s with a splash.
This was pretty common back then and maybe still is, but I think it’s fallen out of mainstream American drinking lifestyles. Craft breweries are where the people go these days to unwind. Colorado alone has somewhere north of two hundred of these establishments.

This all brings us back to Carbondale Beer Works.

Katie is explaining some intricate detail of sugar dangers in children with diabetes …her favorite subject. Coldplay has had at least three songs on the radio in the last hour, and me …I’m buzzed on the IPA.
“Yeah …I’m good to drive back over McClure Pass.” I inform her, when in fact I know damn-good-and-well that I’ll be walking the streets of Carbondale until the euphoria subsides.
We split a hamburger and fries. They make their own ketchup and it’s very sweet and tasty. We have a second round of beers.
Through a wall of windows I can see the brewing equipment in a back room.

Afterward we walk downtown and checkout the little shops and galleries that line Main Street.
It’s a warm fall evening and this bedroom community to Aspen isn’t crowded …it’s nice and new and clean and very hometown feeling. Peo ple, locals mostly, are walking around and eating on outdoor tables. A bunch of kids ride their bikes down here for ice cream, the place has a safe and comfortable feeling to it.
I would definitely recommend the Carbondale Brew Works, don’t let the name keep you away.