Glimmerglass & Cooperstown

Sigh. Today's my last day in NY. Heading back to the dry heat tomorrow and trees with many thorns instead of leaves.

But I visited a couple of cool breweries down near Cooperstown I wanted to talk about for a bit. One is called Ommegang, and they have a beer there called Three Philosopher's Ale that they sell for $3.50 a bottle. Yeah, that's a 12-oz. bottle. They age it in a cellar like wine. It's unusual stuff—might not be for everyone—but I know that some people find it to be divine, and I give it a free cameo appearance in Hammered in a scene featuring Atticus, Gunnar, and Leif. You can find Ommegang's beers in some stores back east and finer liquor establishments all over. The tour of the brewery is cool and the grounds are immaculate. They have a really large grassy area behind the brewery suitable for concerts, so they occasionally have concerts there since they're cool like that.

That's my cute kid and my sister in-law around the Ommegang fire pit. The tree-lined grassy area extends (quite extensively, natch) to both the left and right of this picture. Very pretty.

We also visited another brewery in the area called Cooperstown Brewing, which is actually located in nearby Milford. Here are their beers, from light to dark: 

I like the Nine Man Ale, a very clean pilsner. That Back Yard IPA is kind of neat because they grow the hops to finish it right on the property. Here's their hop vines:

Yesterday we went to Glimmerglass State Park, which is really Otsego Lake that James Fenimore Cooper called "Glimmerglass" in his books. It's a glacial lake fed by springs beneath the surface. When you go swimming in there you can sort of feel where the springs are, because there are colder patches of water. The swimming area is lovely and so are the grounds around the lake, with lots of benches and trails and remarkably friendly trees.

Yeah, I'm going to be leaving all that and return to this:

That's a creosote bush, by the way, for those of you who have never seen one before. They're the dominant desert scrub, and they give the whole valley its distinctive smell when it rains. I happen to love the smell, but I know some people don't dig it. These things can grow forever, cloning themselves. There's one that's dang near 12,000 years old. Anyway, they can grow pretty close together at times and they provide quite a bit of shelter to plenty of desert animals. I mention them a couple of times in Hounded, so I thought I'd provide the picture here to aid the imagination. :)

Working through my TBR pile and fiddling around with outlines for book four and an epic fantasy trilogy while I wait for my editors to take a look at Hammered. Life is good.