Number 1

1 Oscars Blues Halt! Who goes there?
It is I, Johnny, son of Billy-Goat, from the land of Salt. And this is my trusty wench Patti. We have driven the length and breadth of the Colorado in search of beer… Following the map we got in Nederland, we at last discerned our destiny…breweries…shortly that day we would stumble on the holy grail, but it wasn’t a stein, a pint or even weizen…nope, we found it in a frickin’ aluminum can--who knew a beer in a can could taste so good?
I got a pint of Dales Pale …almost India Ale, and Patti had them pour her a Gordon, a strong ale, somewhere between an Imperial Red and a Double IPA tipping the scales at almost 10%-hefty!

I’m almost glad Oskar Blues Grill and Brew is 7 hours 26 minutes and 516.41 miles away or I would be either broke or a flaming alcoholic! The place is next to the St. Vrain River, a Lyons favorite pastime for years has been to float through town, so it was a natural to can their brew so you could tube for a day of fun with a good beer.


The actual bar reflects another part of the beauty of this place as it’s made of local reddish quartzitic sandstone that I couldn’t take my hands off of!


We sat at the bar talkin’ to some locals as we devoured sweet tater fries and split a burger, by the time it was time to leave, I was pretty…yah, pretty is the right word, pretty done…the C-DOT snow plow operator told me to “Hug the yellow line back to camp.” I wandered next door to buy some “Holy Grail” Pale…almost India Ale at the local “Quicky-Mart” and had to slip back into Oskar’s to leak some Dales Pale…almost India Ale into to the urinal, when I spied that the “Chicken Trucker” was going to be on stage tomorrow, I almost wet-my-self getting back to Patti with the news…”Hoboerotica” was in town.

We quickly made plans to repeat our visit and spent the day jammin’ to “Jimmy’s Band” as we hung out at the pop-um-up, cookin’ on the “Coleman Stove”, with so many folk in the campground it’s a wonder there wasn’t a “Trailer Park Fire”, but I did see a “Little Girl & The Dreadful Snake” in the “Big Country” of Rocky Mountain National Park…OK-Ok I’ll stop with all the song titles…Yep, Jalan Crossland and his band was going to be at Oscar’s for the first time ever and we were going to be there-thank you Dog!

I jumped on Sophie for a quick commute…from Rocky Mountain, it’s 25 miles mostly downhill on Highway-66…in hour I’ll be there, sounds reasonable —right!?! Nope, not for Johnny…flying into an intersection just outside of Estes Park, a sign announced Lyons with a pointy arrow; Johnny says thanks, and turns too soon-NOT GOOD, “Tis but a scratch.” I’ll soon find! I climb upbeat over and up HW-7, not downhill, in a bit of a daze…the 25 mile marker I was lookin’ for announced a deserted stretch of tarmac, not the city of Lyons…“Just a flesh wound” I cry as I round the bend and realized my mistake! I’m twisting the long way to Lyons in a cold rain, with no juice in the cell to let Patti know where I am…“I'm invincible!” I mutter over and over as I draw together my courage to battle 20 additional miles, along South St. Vrain Canyon following the river to Oscar, Patti and Jalan…”All right; we'll call it a draw.”

After I cleaned Johnny up we took him to the bar for a redo of yesterdays bill of fare…good beer and food don’t get old this quick and settled in for a gig with Jalan Crossland. He and the boys took to the stage! Patti and Johnny begin screamin’ for obscure songs from his catalog of tunes, whipping the crowd into a frenzied mob…well, we did know all of his music, but “Don't Taze Me, Bro!” and a bunch of folk were getting’ down, up front; later we had a great visit with him, he even posed with his two biggest fans that night, the Macs.

Stop! What is your name? Johnnymac of Who-tah. What is your quest? I seek the Holy Grail. What is your favorite flavor? Dales. No Gordo-- Auuuuuuuugh!