Checkpoint Bravo: Asheville, NC

With a relative easy pass into the mountains, we cruised into Asheville, NC, and headed to the place called, "Wicked Weed Brewing." Right away, I was allured to the cozy seats around the patio's fire pit. Inside, we were invited to a long table in front of the bar, reminiscent of an Old Country beer hall, where many patrons had already gathered. A mural sized portrait of Henry the VIII gazed over from the far wall, and tempted us to plant roots in this pernicious place.

With one look at the menu, and all of its foodie delights, I could have easily lived out my days wallowing in the beer and food decadence. But we were on a mission, so we bore through all the seductions, and went down stairs to the tasting room. Oh man, another great space accented by a great wall of taps.

The selection varied greatly, with many of the brews following the sour and/or wood aged movement. For me, I partook of the English Infidel: A nitro based porter. Cheers to you Ye "Defender of the Faith." Two tasting flights later, it was time to move on. Oh, we could have spent much more time right there in front of the tap wall, but alas, "of all the losses, time is the most irrecuperable." So we removed ourselves, kicking and screaming, from our bar stoops, and threw ourselves back outside. We explored our surroundings, and were quite delighted by the sights and sounds of Asheville's unique Southern style. A small drizzle began to fall, that led to a light rain. We took a quick turn in hopes of spotting an awning for shelter, but found ourselves down a dark alley. An open door at the end leaked out a faint incandescent light. Oddly, we were drawn to it. We entered and shook the drops off our heads. We were dry from the rain, but were now in a metal staircase that led one way, down. We peered over the railing into the depths, as we clanked our way down the stairs. At the bottom was "One World Brewing", a 1 barrel (Excuse me 1.5 barrel, as I was corrected by the knowledgeable staff) nano-brewery. The basement space was small and dark, but clean and simplistic. Free from any blaring TVs or 37 pieces of flair all over the wall (unless you consider their brew system and fermentors flair). The ambiance was relaxing. What a great place to stumble upon. We tried a flight, and were impressed with the quality of their brews. Pleased with ourselves, and our find, we made our way back to street level. The rain had ceased, and we made one last stop at the Thirsty Monk for, what else, the soup of the day.

"Mmmmm, that sounds good. I'll have that." What a great bar with a downstairs devoted to Belgians. My kind of place. We sat on the couches, sipped on a Belgian IPA (Tough combination to master) and planned our next course of action. Once our wits were about us, we saluted Asheville, a superb beer town, and ventured out under the cloak of darkness to the next location on our mission, Devil's Backbone.