On a crisp Saturday evening, the Beer Editor of this ethereal publication was lucky enough to join other brewneisseurs (trademark pending) on a community bicycle trip around Portland. Regaling in this most excellent of company, he bellowed:
Pray raise your glasses and be upstanding, for this most delightful of potions has been found. For on this day, Bridgeport's Honey Porter has burst from its keggerous prison, baptizing us all, and removing the sins of Old Town Brewing.
And the brewneissuers wept, for their travails were over. For the mead was rich like the freshest of creams, colored with the depth of a bear's winter fur yet sweetened by hard work's nectar. The taste lasted longer than any of them deserved, for their only beatification came by riding the beast of 12 backs and a driver named John, hethinks, of the hardy Brewcycle clan.
As they cycled off into the precipitous night, a lot of them wished to forget some things, some of them wished to forget a lot of things, but none of them wanted to forget that wonderful thing. The Beer Editor awarded it a 9/10, his second favorite of 2014 to date.