I’ve been circling myself for years. This paradox of existence and fiction is becoming mundane. These are merely frozen scepters, known to the world as portals into a cold, broken soul. I hear the hymn amid the breakers. Yet I’m as puzzled as the newborn child. My lair is filled with dreams, but they were placed there. And now, I’m as riddled as the tide. Made in celebration of things we find curiously enigmatic, with the creators at Wayfinder Beer. Made from a decoction of rice flour and barley, fermented cold with lager yeast, double dry-hopped with Ella, Galaxy, Wai-Iti and Vic’s Secret hops and then re-fermented for conditioning with active Pilsner. These are the journeys we were not meant to find.