Where I’ve Been

“I don’t know where I’m going, but I know just where I’ve been…” (Battle Born by Five Finger Death Punch)

“You lived in Minnesota? That must have been rough.”

Sure? I guess?

“Went to school in Iowa? Must’ve been boring.”

Actually, it was a hella great time.

“You were in California? Man, I’m sorry about that.”

Well, I’m not.

I hold a special place inside me for all the places I put roots, regardless of how temporary those roots were.

Anoka House

Minnesota, the winter tundra. It brought me a love of fishing, flannel, and forests. I fell in love with backpacking here on the Superior Hiking Trail. The strong German and Scandinavian heritage developed serious cravings for spatzle, Bavarian brews, and potica. When you grow up in Minnesota you learn that when the going gets tough, you buckle down and push on because when the snow keeps coming down, your snowblower has died, and you have to get to a twelve hour shift, you best get to shoveling because staying home doesn’t pay the bills.

Cyclones in their natural habitat

Iowa, the great cornfield. Iowa was all about the camaraderie. You may not know the stranger next to you at the bar, but they are wearing cardinal and gold and hate the Hawkeyes just as much as you so they may as well be kin, because they are. Yes, the small towns hold less things to do, but your favorite bar has your favorite bartender who knows your name, your favorite drink, and asks about your final because they heard it was a rough one. Don’t for one second believe Iowa food is bland, try a state fair pork chop on a stick, it will have you hearing angels singing. Mostly, Iowa encouraged me to dance to my own music. If everyone around you is line dancing to yet another country drab, go ahead, jump on the pool table and head bang to Disturbed in a plaid shirt and spike heels.

RPV patio

California, the one everyone has a strong opinion of. First thing that comes to mind is the flavors. My mouth waters with the thought of street tacos, fresh caught sushi, and west coast IPA’s. The almost-always-perfect weather led to the most outdoor exploration I’ve ever done within a calendar year. The most insane landscapes still leave me breathless. We met jawas in Joshua Tree, vandwellers in Yosemite, life long trail family in Sequoia. California was the people, some of the best, most kind people I have ever met. California taught me to not judge a book by its cover. The dumpy, divey bar has the best Philly cheesesteak you will ever taste. The clients dropping off their beloved pet for surgery are crying despite one wearing Costco and the other Chanel. They both hug you when you bring their pet out for discharge. 

First day of vanlife

As the great band (Five Finger Death Punch) says, “I may not know where I’m going, but I know just where I’ve been.”

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Short Essays From The Road

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The Beer That Started It All

I call Leinenkugel’s Honey Weiss the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup of beers. It is perfect, anything done in the hopes of improving it actually diminishes it. There is no situation where I would turn down a Honey Weiss. If you think I wouldn’t turn down any beer, try drinking a coffee stout on a humid 90+ Minnesota summer day, lessons were learned.

I discovered Honey Weiss accidentally at Rock Night at Pickle Park in 2008, if that doesn’t age me, I don’t know what will. (Translation: I was 22 and ordered a bottle of beer at random while at a divey bar that hosted the local rock radio station for a rock-themed dance night, on a Tuesday no less) Skip a couple years ahead just after graduating from ISU, I found like-minded beer enthusiasts and started an annual trip to Leinie Lodge complete with brewery-hopping en route. Keep in mind, this was prior to craft brewing taking off so these were tiny breweries with maybe 4-6 beers on tap and only sold kegs or pints to locals because distribution was too expensive. A flight consists of all their beers on tap and costs $6-8 and we all ordered our own individual flights to consume. We asked each brewery for a personal tour and learned more about the art of brewing than any fancy tour at the big guys.

A bro’s 21st birthday, celebrated with the traditional brewery roadtrip

Leinie Lodge hosted a free tour with samples for free (they didn’t want to pay for a license and therefore couldn’t charge since they were “samples”). Times change, my friends. Craft brewing became fashionable, for better or worse. The market flooded, someone decided to sour a perfectly good product, and another dumbass decided to add fruit to beer.

The annual mecca trips continued, the flights increased in cost, Leinie’s started to charge, but the sweet nectar of Honey Weiss always reminded me why I fell in love with beer in the first place. And then some dude I met at a bar (of all places, shocking, I know) invited me to Colorado and to tour the Coors facility because according to him, “It’s great beer.”

I pulled on my Leinie shirt in preparation for the tour, to show my solidarity for the small guys only to find out on the Coors’ Family Wall (shows all the breweries they own) was the new acquisition of Leinenkugels. A decent chunk of my heart died that day. But I am nothing if not a trooper, and troop on, I did. Breweries are learning from their early mistakes, beer can be shockingly expensive and Honey Weiss remains the sweet nectar of the gods.

Yes, I paid for a touristy pic, sue me

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Short Essays From The Road

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