8:30 We walk out into an unbelievably bright street a few blocks from the heart of Brussels. We have three blocks to go before we hit the subway. What’s that? A waffle stand? Hell yes. Cover the thing in chocolate, yeah shake some powdered sugar on it, trade it to me for some of these coins. Best food ever.

9am In the Hertz rental car office on the other side of town, it’s about the size of a closet. Loud woman in front of me is loud. She’s American, so I try to be extra quiet and polite to make up for her while I wait. Drink some water to pass the time. Read some travel brochures to brush up on your French. At the counter there’s no hang-ups, no problems, no concerns, we sign, we pay, we’re handed the keys. We’re in the car and ready to go, I can’t believe we get 24 hours for 40-something US dollars. I pass on the insurance to save a few bucks, I mean it’s not like I’m going to be drinking all day. That’s not why I flew to Belgium.

9:30 We take a slow turn out of the garage and hit the cobble-stone streets of central Brussels. We have a map, we know where to go to get out of town, let’s hope this works. Shooting down the narrow, cobbled roads, it starts to feel like an experience. Yeah, I’m still just sitting in a car and driving on some roads, but it’s a remarkably different experience compared to just hoofing it or using public transit. Without any problem we meet up with the R0 expressway on the west side of Brussels. Just up the road is E40, and only a few miles further we’re reaching the outer edge of the lambic world, one of the true gems of beer culture: Pajottenland.

10:00 Asse, Belgium. We’re only 15 miles outside of Brussels proper, but it feels like an entirely different world. Rolling hills, farms, creeks, open land, slow life. I’d been interested in exploring a lambic café along the main road into Asse for some time, thanks to the magnificent information presented in Tim Webb’s book Lambicland. Up on the left is the small white-washed building with a bold sign reading “Koekoek.” We pull into the gravel parking lot, we’re the only car here. Are they open? Are we too early? There’s a guy half-way up a ladder painting the side of the house. “You open?” I quickly say. He motions around the side of the building and says something that I don’t understand. Yeah, they’re open.

Opening the door we step back in time. At the far end of the dust-filled room is a small bar sitting adjacent to a number of benches and tables, each one adorned with a small red and white plaid tablecloth. Right away a man appears from a back room and cordially welcomes us and introduces himself. I try my best to put together some friendly words but he doesn’t understand me at all. It’s my fault so I just shut up and smile. From what he said I gathered than he owns the house, his family lives here, this is his life. Here is a man who in the front of his house has a lambic café, and in back he has a field full of chickens and lamb, they’re out there making noise and other general fuss.

The reason we’re here is Girardin lambic. This is one of the spots where the true jonge lambic can be found – the turbid, frothy, alive, active base lambic created by Brouwerij Girardin. What is placed before me in a glass is the most alive, dense, flavorful lambic I’ve tasted in my life. Absent was the overt acidity of blended gueuze, while present was an exceptionally frothy denseness from the yeast, with the slightest hint of sweetness to compliment. I’ve never been the most objective reviewer of beer. I’m very open to enjoying every aspect that contributes to a moment, and I fully allow these things to influence my perception of what I’m drinking at the time. This truly is life. Halfway through the glass I’ve completed my rating. Perfect 5.0. Unbelievable.

12:00pm Lunch at De Heeren van Liedekerke in Denderleeuw. It’s early, so we’re really the only people there. Scanning the beerbook, salivating. Lunch is gray shrimp salad for one of us and beef carbonade for the other. To drink? A bottle of 2000 Lindemans Loerik and one of the 1993 De Troch Gueuze, that’ll be fine. Yum.

2:00pm We’ve been on the road for less than an hour, first traveling west towards Gent, then south on E17 towards Kortrijk and on to Poperinge where we’ll be staying the night. Through a small bed and breakfast website we found a gentlemen who rents out rooms on the top floor of his house, not more than a couple of blocks from the center of Poperinge. After making some small talk and dropping off our things, we set out to find some quick food and then head out of town.

3:00pm: Six miles straight north from Poperinge you hit Westvleteren, the Sint-Sixtus Abbey, and In de Vrede, their small restaurant, pub and shop. We spent a comfortable hour sitting on the back patio of In de Vrede sipping fresh Westvleteren 8 and 12. This young and this fresh it’s distinctly hot and green, it needs to develop with some time in the bottle. Why am I complaining? I’m sitting outside on a glorious day in West Flanders drinking one of the best beers in the world. No complaints at all. A light breeze, the soft rumble of conversion behind us and the distant calls of sheep down the road, this is pure relaxation.

4:00pm. We need to be on the road. We’ve made plans with Urbain Coutteau of Struise Brewing. We we’re supposed to have figured out where Struise Farm was located and show up at an appropriate time, but the location of the farm was the one piece of information that we simply forgot to gather before we started our trip. Worry starts to set in, both for missing out on meeting him and seeing the farm, and also of standing him up, of not showing up, of leaving him a bad impression of these Americans. Deca Services is in Woesten, not far from Westvleteren. We show up unannounced and ask around enough until we find Urbain, and hesitantly make our introduction. “Come back to the farm for a drink” he says. Absolutely.

A few miles from Woesten are the two small villages of Lo and Nieuwkapelle. Through a network of dirt roads we follow Urbain out to Struise Farm, not far off from the main road but completely isolated and peaceful. There is not a sound of an engine within earshot, the fields are empty, it’s miles to the nearest neighbor. Urbain remarks at just how remote the farm becomes at night, and how calm and quiet life becomes for him out here. There’s little complexity in the words being exchanged between us but the meaning is well-understood. This is the good life. Here is an artisan brewer, an artist, living life on his own terms, in his own way. I both understand and envy the way he describes his passion for brewing. I feel welcome in his home.

The conversation flows as the beer does, that is the absolute best part of this hobby… or perhaps way-of-life is a better term. It’s not so much about the beer as it is about the people you meet, the friendships you make, and the experiences you take part in. If I attempt to put into words the hospitality showed us and the drinks shared with us at Struise Farms that evening, I would fail miserably. I hesitate to go into detail about the simple things such as beers shared, conversations started, or topics covered, simply because it would be a disservice to the fine memory I have of that night spent in the rural fields of western Belgium. Let it be said that the quality of beer shared by my friends at Struise that night is unsurpassed in my lifetime.

I look back on this single day in Belgium and I almost don’t believe that so many experiences can be packed into such a short amount of time. Nothing brings back a passion for travel as those experiences in life where the focus is truly on the moment, and without even being aware at the time, pure enjoyment in life is nothing more than a funny conversation and a drink shared.

We are told that bottles will soon make it to stores, but just how many, and just how far they’ll travel, remains to be seen. Ratings have begun to trickle in.

For those curious, the blend of Voltron was as follows (in various amounts):

1. Good Sally – Salvation aged in Opus One Cabernet Sauvignon barrels with Brettanomyces Drie added.
2. Port Altar Boy – Reverend aged in a neutral port barrel with Brettanomyces Drie and lactobacillus.
3. Opus One Altar Boy – Reverend aged in Opus One Cabernet Sauvignon barrels with Brettanomyces Drie added, as well as lactic and acetic acid-producing bacteria.
4. 100% Brettanomyces Ellie’s Brown – Fermented in a Ferrari-Carrano Chardonnay barrel.
5. Brabant – A portion of our new beer but aged in a neutral port barrel rather than a Zinfandel barrel.

Wasting no time, we drove straight through Ohio our first day out, and arrived at Kuhnhenn’s an hour before the posted time for bottle sales. Walking in the front door we were passed by person after person with stacked cases in their arms. Okay, no problem. You have to figure that’s going to happen. We got our bottles, threw them in the truck, and went back in for a session, greeted by a draft lineup that just begs for a designated driver: Prometheus, a 10% Belgian strong ale, was on the low end this night. Kuhnhenn’s Raspberry Eisbock (10.6%), Fourth Dementia (11%), Barley Wine (12%), Road Rash (12.5%) and Winter Wonder (15.5%) were among the super-gravity beers available, along with a few standard weight taps such as the Winter Lager (7.2%) and American IPA (6.5%).

Back on the road a few hours later, we drove into Ann Arbor and checked into our room before heading into downtown for more fun. My impressions of Ann Arbor are likely to be somewhat skewed, as we visited late on the Friday of finals week, and the town was devoid of any student life whatsoever. Drinking establishments had a Tuesday night crowd on a Friday, and the streets were quiet, desolate and cold. The campus business district in Ann Arbor is home to three breweries, a number of solid bottle shops, one very good beer bar, and some of the fattest, slowest squirrels you’ll ever see. While packing the truck the next morning, we were startled from above by a squirrel the size of a housecat. The squirrel’s immense weight caused the branches underneath it’s rotund body to sway uneasily, and its slow, measured attempt to navigate the trees downward was pure hilarity.

Day two in Michigan brought visits to Arcadia Brewing in Battle Creek and Bell’s Eccentric Café in Kalamazoo, where we enjoyed a new Sweet Potato Stout brewed just weeks prior, as well as an aged keg of Batch 7000 Imperial Stout. Across the street from Bell’s, we were disappointed to find Kraftbrau deserted and empty, as they had ceased brewing and closed shop over a rent dispute back in November. For the beer hunter, though, there’s still a good second option in Kalamazoo, the Olde Peninsula Restaurant and Brewery. Perhaps due to the proximity to Bell’s and the more courageous palates that come with the beer tourists, Olde Peninsula is turning out some seriously solid beer. Their porter, stout and IPA were to-style and without defects, and their seasonal Pumpkin ale had a distinct pepperiness to compliment the pumpkin pulp flavor.

Continuing our drive westward across lower Michigan brought us to the Livery in Benton Harbor. Located in the Benton Harbor Arts District, set amongst a patchwork of empty lots, abandoned brick houses and a few reclaimed and renovated buildings, the Livery sits as a small basement of a brewery, specializing in unique recipes and focused on attracting a unique crowd. The Livery has been a beer hunter destination since their cask aged Wheat Trippelbock achieved Top 50 status on Ratebeer, and we made a point to visit specifically because this beer was available on draft. A super gravity version of a doppelbock, but partially made with wheat, it’s aged in a bourbon cask for between 8 to 12 months, and weighs in between 11 – 16% ABV. Delectable, rich, and lightly sweet, with the barrel quality complimenting rather than dominating, the cask aged Trippelbock is a wondrous creation and unlike anything I’ve tasted.

Two solid days of drinking on the road caught up with us, and I began to realize what I’d suspected before we began this trip: I’m not in my early 20s anymore, and I guess I just can’t handle the seemingly non-stop brewpubbing that I used to do out west. With another week ahead of us, we decided to take it easy on our second night, turning in early and looking ahead to spending time in Illinois, Iowa and Wisconsin.