After leaving Earth Eagle, we skated our way a few blocks down and through the small but bustling (even on a blizzardy, icy night) downtown to find our second stop: Portsmouth Brewery. A mere 30 minutes of what was apparently freezing rain turned downtown Portsmouth into an ice rink with 30 MPH winds. So basically, you pointed yourself in the right direction, got a bit of a running start, and slid your way to wherever you were going with the wind (hopefully) at your back.
To be honest, I’m not sure what there is to say about Portsmouth Brewing that hasn’t already been said by wordsmiths more clever than I. The beer is reliably good, the food is reliably tasty, the crowd is reliably crowded, and atmosphere is reliably historical and full of exposed brick, and the bartenders are reliably proud of every drink they serve. This bar epitomizes the ever-fading working port of northern New England and yet embraces the changing times on the Seacoast. It remains a place we visit every time we find ourselves in Portsmouth, and for good reason: it’s a good (reliable?) place to see and be seen. Hipsters and the unemployed-and-over-educated mingle freely with the fishermen and boat builders, and no one seems burdened by what could have been. It’s just the place to go.
They serve vittles until 11 on weeknights and 12:30 on weekends, so it’s a handy place to head to when you’re downtown in early-late-night if you’re hungry. They have a good variety of brews, from a standard pale ale to a hearty stout to a more exotic sour beer. If you have any questions, the bartenders know their beers inside and out, so don’t hesitate to ask. Portsmouth also has a green reputation: much like Earth Eagle, the spent malt and grain from the brewing process is turned into livestock feed or dog treats, and, like most microbreweries the country over, they try to use local ingredients as much as possible. AND, this time around, we did get into a rousing discussion with the bartenders about the *worst* Olympic event ever. The end result: ping-pong should only be a sport if performed while ice dancing. Seems legit.
What: An all-around good and dependable local brewery that has everything any beer lover could ever ask for.
Where: Right in downtown Portsmouth. 56 Market Street, which pretty much anchors the whole city. Monday-Sunday, 11:30 pm-12:35 am.
When we looked down the dirt road, it looked friendly enough.
After all, it was sunny in Boulder, WY. And it would shave a few miles from our lonely journey along the western slope of the Wind River Mountains.
And it was a road less traveled, a path we had never taken. There were mountains and cabins and cattle we had never seen. How bad could it be?
The secretive Air Force nuclear treaty monitoring station should have been an early warning. Perhaps we should have taken it in the height of summer, when the threat of a blizzard was at least minimized.
An abandoned farmstead, a solitary swing in want of a playtime, a rusty barbed-wire fence rotting at the edges, a set of bear prints in the frozen mud. An ageless set capturing a lost moment in the life of the Wyoming backcountry.
The Oregon Trail passed under our sloshing tires as we crossed river and snowdrift and cattleguard. When the road disappeared into a blinding canvas of plain, thick, swirling whites, we finally decided it was time to turn around.
What We Talk About!365 automobile beer Black Hills Caribbean Sea Cincinnati Downtown Grand Teton National Park Great Divide Basin harbor Hawaii hiking history Izilwane Jackson Hole Jonmikel Kat's 365 Lander life love Maine ME Mexico microbrew microbrewery New Hampshire NH Ohio Owls Head Transportation Museum Pardo Photo of the Day photography PPoD Red Desert Road Trip Rockland spring sunset The Big Island The Island of Hawaii tourism travel Tulum Washington winter Wyoming