The road from Bartlett, New Hampshire through the White
Mountains and into Vermont is long and winding. Passing mountain lakes and
impossible villages and homes that seem to have been planted in place centuries
before. Is it possible for a house to look like it’s grown out of the
landscape?
This was the road we travelled in late summer on our way to
Waterbury, Vermont in search of ice cream, coffee and beer. Three innocuous
vices when handle separately, but cram them into one small town and cover them
in maple syrup and you’ve got yourself the sweetest place in the nation.
To say that Heady Topper is a perfect beer is to
misunderstand the meaning of perfection.
The truth of the matter is this...no beer can be perfect, yet a certain
beer, in a certain place, at a certain time can achieve a moment of theoretical
perfection that cannot be replicated. I’ve experienced this phenomena several
times throughout my beer-odyssey and it is as rare as it is fleeting.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUTO-mj6QY0T2xGkYahih3qNHmk94g_0E9rJk8rfM_FxHZ7UmlflGddgStjo4_QZomNiIRv_9NY9Qtu0JRiBEZG67QtZ0vVakXVcTScOjeuim3WVuRc6XTyPeCSc8kUBhlcGBRsLktyjbG/s200/IMG_2937.jpg)
A quick romp through Montpelier and with a loaf of bread, some cheese and grapes from the Hunger Mountain Co-Op in hand, we made our way up a gently sloping hill just outside the city. If you know anything about Montpelier as a “city” you’ll know that we were quickly in the middle of nowhere. We discovered an impressive sugar shack with ample parking and backed our vehicle up to the neighboring field.
Now, The Alchemist’s John Kimmich expressly demands that his
beer be enjoyed directly from the can so I consented to do so and popped the
top. The setting was beautiful, the company wonderful and the summer breeze
light and easy. As I mentioned before, no beer can be perfect, but with the
warm, summer breeze blowing in and the excellent company, this beer was as
close to perfection as you can get. Thank you Vermont.
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