Yosemite is an awesome place. Seriously, it is awe inspiring. Andrea and I (and some friends) went to the park this past weekend and hiked all over the place. We climbed half-dome and literally tried to put our arms around some giant Sequoia trees. I can see it was one of truly magnificent places that I’ve ever seen. In fact, I already want to go back. But let’s get to the beer.
I’ve written a post quite a while back that alluded to the fact that I don’t enjoy a beer in a noisy, stuffy, “can’t hear myself think” kind of place. I hate it. Sometimes, even when I know the beer is great, I just cannot appreciate a beer. Personally, I believe that we humans don’t admit how much a role emotions and psychological conditions actually define how we act and how we perceive.
So when I drank some Spaten Oktoberfest in nature’s theater, I was so throughly happy about drinking it that it was one of the best beers I’d ever had. Of course, I think it’s a very good beer already, but it’s not earth shattering. But in that brief dispensation of time it towered like the mountains.
What do you think? Share your story about context making a beer wonderful.