And Then We All Vanish
Our plea becomes more than that of mere survival. But one of acceptance. For the plan never existed anyway. A weird art idea from my oldest son, Axel, who gathers existence by the day. Our annual fresh hop beer is a celebration of the boldness of raw, bright and uninhibited hops. The devoted farmers at HopHead Farms annually load a truck at midnight with freshly-picked cones and head South to meet the beginning of our brew day. Made with Oats and Wheat. Double dry-hopped with more than 25 pounds per barrel of wet, fresh El Dorado and Cashmere hops right from the farm.