Hips 'n Hops

Whoa! I caught The Moustache finishing another letter and intercepted it. He had branched out and reached a whole new level, and, after reading it, I referred to him as The Dirty Moustache. His latest was naughty, sensuous and totally inappropriate on this forum, but I made a compromise. Because I liked the idea, we agreed if I would clean it up from his X-rated version to something more acceptable, I'd publish it.

Early dawn, I sneak out of the house and gently pull the door shut and twist the key to lock it. Fearing the noise from starting the car, I coast downhill and wince while turning the engine over. Glancing in the mirror, the house remains dark as I smile. 

She's waiting for me.

In a childish hurry, I hit highway speeds in anticipation of spending time with her. The pale blue glow from the digital clock on the dashboard catches my eye and there's more urgency. I have a narrow window of time to arrive and visit my mistress before the odds greatly increase being caught for my trespassing.

Quietly rolling into the parking lot, I black out the headlights as my eyes wildly scan for any potential witnesses.  Satisfied that I'm alone, I slip out of the car, easing the door silently shut. Cat-like, I glide through the shadows until I set foot on her property. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and smile.  "I'm here," I whisper as I open my eyes, "and you look absolutely incredible!"

I head up the trail and immediately my breathing is deep and forceful. Having visited her yesterday, my thighs are still stiff from exhertion, but they slowly loosen.  My heart races and the unusually high humidity soon has my skin shiny with a sweaty sheen. Panting heavily, I remove my shirt to enjoy the coolness and maintain a steady pace while spending time with my mistress. Spending time with her not only provides the physical benefit, but also a mental component of health.  There's very few wonders in life that spending time with her has not resolved.

The canyon glistens with dew in the risen sun and, what's this?

Out of nowhere, a hops vine sprawls like a thick blanket beside the trickling creek. Although not native to the area, it is a healthy deep green, sprawling voraciously and heavy with dangling hops.  I keep moving up the trail with a budding thought. Those wild hops are the begining of a micro-beer I need to develop, and I soon notice another essential ingredient.

Obviously, choke cherries have benefited from the wet season and local bears haven't ravaged the laden branches, yet. I think my custom brew needs just a slight infusion of this ingredient. Too much and the tartness will overpower, but with just a hint, the tart will strike like a quick slap, causing the bewildered consumer to question, "What was that?" Uncertain, the quick flash of tartness will seduce the consumer for another swig to relive the sensation.

I continue my trespass and, yes! Another essential ingredient!

Fruity beers are not my thing.  But, just like the tartness from the choke cherries, just the slightest addition of wild raspberries will tickle the tongue and have the consumer question, "Was that a wisp of raspberry flavor?"  Additional pulls from the bottle will follow, searching for a repeat sensation to the tongue.

As my recipe develops, I soon stop at a collection of plants someone had gathered, but left behind on the trail.

Having previously cooked with it, I recognize the abandoned bundle as wild garlic. Well, I enjoy the "wild" if offers for my progressing recipe, but my nose crinkles at the thought. Garlic, in my opinion, has no business in beer.  Especially in my custom mistress concoction since no one wants to smell the offensive odor.

I turn to start up the trail again and don't take 3 steps until noticing something in the nearby weeds.

This relic of a beer can has been in the weeds for how long? Pull tabs that separated from the can aged out, what, 30 - 40 years ago?  But, the archaic beer can spurned more thought. My special brew needs packaged appropriately.  Cans simply won't do. It must bottled in unique, smoked swirled glass with a resealable stopper on a fancy wire harness. Only the best for the mistress.

Heading back up the trail, my mind racing with my mistress as I try to create a suitable beer, I come across yet another naturally occurrring ingredient.

Classic!  Rose hips are loaded in vitamin C (containing 50% more than an oranges) so they are an excellent immune system booster and also have a diuretic property that helps with kidney disorders.  Oils from the hips not only helps regenerate skin cells, but hydrates them as well, keeping skin elastic and nourished. In fact, hips help heal scars and wounds. Plus, they contain antioxidants, carotenoids, flavinoids, polyphenols, and other big fancy words which are good preventative ingredients for cancer and cardiovascular disease. This is a huge find! My all natural and wild beer will actually be healthy and good for the consumer?

Moving along, my creative (??? ...okay, maybe "wayward" is more appropriate)  brain contiues to knead the idea of the custom suds.  Being heavily lost in thought, I'm caught off guard when I realize I'm on top of my mistress. I look out over the front range and during my descent, I realize I have not decided what kind of beer is fitting.  IPA? No thanks.  A heavy lager or stout? I'll pass.  A blond pale ale? Getting much, much closer.

Aha! My question is answered as the other major ingredient magically swats at my legs.

Wild Kansas wheat grass is abundant having spread into a huge swath on the slope and makes my decision easy.  My custom brew will be a wheat beer, unfiltered of course.  And, because she is so good for my physical and mental health, and since all ingredients will be harvested from her wilds, my beer will be bottled as Good 'n Wild Mistress. I'm already looking forward to packing some up to my tree and sharing it with a fiery sunset.

Now, having the basic recipe and name, I realize my next visit to see her will be a brainstorm session creating a catchy, somewhat sexy and a tidbit sultry, label. Like her, the label must be a one-of-a-kind, head jerking eye-catcher that sits respectfully and quietly on the shelf, and, The Dirty Moustache will be prohibited from participating.