First, thanks to all of you who came out for Nashville Craft Beer Week events! We said goodbye to Lovebird…
…and hello to Spruce Beersteen Black IPA (as our friend Weston said, it’s the darkness on the edge of town…)
…and had a really great time eating and drinking with all of you, even if my jorts are a little snug this week.
Things to look out for on the horizon: Get Better playing a LIVE SET in the taproom (April 14) to celebrate the release of their new album, the return of Grassy Knoll Movie Nights out by Bongo East (April 15), American Craft Beer Week, fEASTival, and our FIRST BIRTHDAY PARTY! That’s right, Jackalope is turning one in May, and so we will be throwing ourselves a birthday party on May 26th. Details to follow but suffice to say we hope it will have significantly more beer and less crying than your typical first birthday party.
Now, moving on to more news, we often get the question, “how did you come up with the name for Jackalope?”. It basically goes back to the fact that I, Bailey, believed in them quite actively for many a-year (on a related note, I was also voted “most gullible” in my 8th grade superlatives.). The more people ask, the more I realize that I don’t remember ever having any kind of “a-ha!” moment when someone told me they weren’t real and my perception of reality was shattered. So maybe the thing of it is that I still believe in them. Nobody has ever proved to me that Jackalopes aren’t real, even though I admit they are a rather elusive bunch (as it was explained to me so many years ago, they are primarily nocturnal, thus people rarely see them). And with that in mind, I am happy to announce that I, along with my sister and two obliging friends, will embark on a quest to find the wild Jackalope this summer. This July, we will literally be searching high and low, starting at Badwater in Death Valley, the lowest point on the continent, and climbing up Mt. Whitney, the tallest mountain in the lower 48. Armed only with determination, Smartwools, 20-lbs of homemade GORP, and supposedly a gas-powered margarita machine, we will set about making our mythological dreams a reality and will not rest until any doubt about the Jackalope has been put to rest. Or until we make it back down the mountain. But hopefully both. Who knows, maybe we’ll discover some other inspiring creatures along the way….