PICK YOUR SIX

Part II: Brews from Beyond the Grave

BY LEWIS SMITH

If you grew up in North Carolina during a certain era, your elementary school library was probably full of books of North Carolina ghost stories written by Nancy Roberts, which provided evocative sketches of North Carolina’s supernatural history. It’s just the kind of thing for impressionable 6-year-olds to be reading, because in those days before things like “parental supervision,” tales of grisly death and spectral wanderings weren’t gonna cause that much harm to an impressionable child’s mind, right? Struck by a sudden burst of nostalgia and looking for another hook for a Halloween article, we here at BrewScene decided to pair six ghostly tales with six goodly ales and see if a little magic couldn’t be made. So gather round the fre and hand us that fashlight — it’s time to get spooky.

The Story: Virginia Dare, the White Doe

If you’ve spent fve minutes in North Carolina, I hope you tried the barbecue. If you spent ten minutes here, you’ve probably heard about the

Lost Colony, our famous legend involving disappearing colonists, culture clashes with the First Nations and tree vandalism on lovely Roanoke Island.

One of the many explanations proffered for what became of these vanished souls posits that the frst child born to this colony, Virginia Dare, was cursed by a sorcerer named Chico and turned into a white doe, who was then hunted by two guys with magic arrowheads and then turned into scuppernong grapes — because sure, that’s how all of that works.

The Beer: Beam Me Up (Skull Camp Brewing, Elkin)

If any of you think that I might know what I’m doing, consider this: I spent 25 minutes trying to work out why a Scotch ale would be called “beam me up.” I did get there in the end, but it was a little embarrassing it took so long. This was my frst Skull Camp beer, and it’s pretty great. A sweet initial taste yields to a sugary, sweet fnish. It’s eminently drinkable and the sweet favor is balanced enough that it doesn’t overstay its welcome It’s a perfect middle of the road beer for when you want something a little heavier than the norm but don’t want to go too far to the dark side. A very solid beer, indeed.

The Story: The Rum Keg Girl

From the town of Beaufort comes a story that Edgar Allan Poe is probably kicking himself that he didn’t think of. It’s a tale of the family Sloo who sailed to North Carolina to start a new life. Just after they settled in however, the family sailed back to England, promising to return to Beaufort no matter what. On the way back, unfortunately, the daughter fell ill and passed away. Not wanting to bury her at sea because of his promise to return her to North Carolina, the father sealed her up in a keg of rum to preserve her body for the voyage home. Not wanting to unseal the barrel and transfer the body to a casket, she was buried in Beaufort — still in the keg, but home at last. It’s said that on the right kind of night, her ghost runs and plays among the headstones of the cemetery and scatters offerings left at her tomb all over the headstones. Because that’s what kids do, whatever side of the veil they happen to be on.

The Story: Blackbeard's Ghost

If you remember last issue's Pick Your Six you will recall we had some fond words for North Carolina's most infamous pirate, Edward Teach, aka Blackbeard. After his last stand, wherein his entire crew was captured and killed, Blackbeard was shot fve times, stabbed 20 times, then beheaded (just in case he was a Highlander) The victorious ship hung his head from their bowsprit, because we were centuries away from Xbox achievements. His headless body was dumped at sea, and it is said his ghost wanders around Teach's Hole in Ocracoke, calling for his head. How it does this without a larynx is one of those logical thingies that legends tend to brush past in the storytelling.

The Beer: Ephemere (Unibroue, Quebec, Canada)

From the great white north comes a great white ale. A very light but favorful combination of wheat and apples, it has a very pleasant favor and interestingly enough, one that doesn’t veer into being a cider. A sharp, tart, apple taste gives way to a sweet fnish. It’s very light all around and not at all bitter and would be ideal for a time when you want something pleasant and sweet, without an extremely intrusive favor to it. An interesting style of beer I’ll have to try to explore more of in the future.

The Beer: III Rye Tripel (Neuse River Brewing Co, Raleigh)

This one felt like an event (it's the first beer I had with a wired cork opener) and boy, was it ever.

Neuse River Brewing took an already impressively strong Rye Tripel and aged it for six months in rum barrels from Raleigh Rum Co.

To give you an idea of what that's like, imagine someone rigged up a hot rod with a solid rocket booster and drove it right into your head. Yes my people, this is pretty darn strong — 11 percent ABV — and it's pretty amazing. A light initial taste yields to the rum flavor and when it hits, it hits very hard indeed.

Despite that, though, it doesn't feel as heavy as, say, a Russian Imperial stout, so it's easy to sip, though it will pack quite a wallop. Quite an amazing find and well worth a pour, assuming you don't have any plans for the rest of the day.

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The Story: Dromgoole Rock

The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill is known for many things, and if a die-hard Duke fan was writing this article, we wouldn't be able to print any of them. But besides storied college basketball rivalries, there's also this legend that takes place near Piney Point, near Gimgoul Castle: Peter Dromgoole (UNC-Chapek Hill Winner For Most Metal Name of All Time, 1831) loved a girl from town called Fannie and fought a duel with another student over her (this is before we settled these by shooting a beer bong, like gentleman do) Peter lost (or, to be more accurate, died) and, as dueling was strongly frowned upon in those days — colleges have always been down on murder, funnily enough — was hastily buried under a rock rolled over a freshly-dug grave. Because out of sight, out of mind, right? That worked about as well as you imagine it would — Peter's absence was hastily noticed, not least by Fannie, who died soon after, stricken with grief. It's said that one can still see their shadows lingering close to the still blood-stained rock today. From the hot new brewery in Raleigh comes this interesting beer, a sumptuous Cabernet barrel-aged Flanders Red. It’s amazingly tart all the way through (as anything with black cherry and red currants is liable to be), but it has an intriguing finish, with a few complex flavors lingering on the palate. This beer was really intriguing, in that it seemed to become a more rewarding experience the longer I drank it. It tempts the palate to explore the different tastes present. Also, if you have a friend who’s into wine but might be a bit beer-curious, this is an ideal middle ground, as it’s not too heavy on the beer side, nor too rich as a wine. This was my first Bhavana beer, and they certainly live up to the hype. I quite recommend it.

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The Beer: Papaver (Brewery Bhavana, Raleigh)

The Story: The Maco Light

It's said that not all heroes wear capes. It's rather hard to if you don't have a neck. Signal man Joe Baldwin was having a nap in the caboose of a train when it suddenly detached from the other cars, heading for another engine down the line. Desperate to avoid a crash, Joe stood on the platform, waving his lantern. Joe was decapitated by the crashing train and his head was launched into the nearby swamp. For more than a century, people walking the tracks at night claimed that you could see Joe waving his lantern alongside the train tracks, searching for his missing head. In 1977, the tracks were pulled up, and the light disappeared.

The Story: The Hoofprints At Bath

We close out our macabre half-dozen with a tale of drunken hubris from the town of Bath. Jesse Elliot enjoyed drinking, racing his horse (often while drunk) and boasting about how he never lost a race (again, often when drunk) One day Jesse is challenged to a race by a man in black, who is totally not the Devil. Devlin McNotsatan rode a big black horse with burning red eyes, probably called Symbolism, or maybe Comeuppance. Jesse's horse stopped dead in his tracks mid-race and reared up on its hind legs, causing Jesse to lawn dart right into a tree, killing him instantly. The man in black apparently dragged Jesse's soul to hell soon after, having achieved his recommended daily allowance of irony. The hoof prints where Jesse's horse stopped dead are said to be permanently etched into the earth at Bath, and that nothing grows where the horse stood. As for Jesse, while he was condemned to an eternity in Hell, he would later be retroactively awarded the frst Darwin Award when the internet was invented, 183 years later. The Beer: Devil’s Tramping Ground Tripel (Aviator Brewing, Fuquay-Varina)

I know the Devil’s Tramping Ground is in Siler City, but the description of both phenomena was too close not to match this one to the story. This is a mighty tripel for sure, and it wastes no time getting right the heck on top. A very rich initial taste hits hard and soon yields to a syrupy-sweet finish, which is very drinkable. I suppose that’s part the devil’s bargain in drinking it though, as it’s so sweet that you can down it very fast and not realize it’s 9 percent ABV. And you will (eventually) feel that. Boy howdy, will you ever. It’s a very impressive beer, and well worth trying.

The Beer: Off With Her Red (Fortnight Brewing, Cary)

Fortnight does a great job with contrasting flavors in ways that are intriguing and surprisingly precise, and this beguiling raspberry sour ale is no exception. A tart initial taste gives way to a dry and very sweet finish. It'd be easy to go overboard with the sourness (it's got raspberries in it after all) but there's a balancing of the tartness of the raspberry and the dryness that makes for a pleasant mix. Sours aren't usually my main thing, but I found this an eminently drinkable beer — flavorful, but not too bitter or tart. It's a light and refreshing beer, ideal for a high-humidity late summer night.

And there you have it: A spectral sextet of somber stories and sublime suds. If you were looking for some old guy to be thwarted by some stoners in a van and their dog, well, I don’t know what to tell you. But as to the rest of you — grab a pint. In fact, grab two. You never know when the ghosts might turn up…

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