Given how long it took me to get the last blog written, I thought I'd better get this one out while the memories are still vaguely fresh.
For once, I'll start with the beer.
One unexpected bonus of living in a small rural Yorkshire village is that there happens to be a brewery practically on my doorstep. Tucked away just beyond the village is Rudgate Brewery, a traditional brewery that's been quietly producing beer for years and, more importantly, is close enough to count as "local" in the truest sense of the word.
Naturally, one of my first priorities after moving was to pay them a visit.
Having exchanged a few emails with the lady who runs the office, I popped over one Friday afternoon and came away with several mixed cases. The beers were exactly what I'd hoped for: traditional Yorkshire fare done well. A solid English Pale, a proper Bitter and a light session ale that disappeared far too easily. The visit was worthwhile for another reason too, as I somehow managed to acquire a Rudgate bar runner in the process.
A successful afternoon all round.
A few weeks later, with a mate coming to visit and beer stocks running lower than I was comfortable with, I returned for a refill. This time I came away with a different selection and, rather generously, at least a bottle or can of virtually their entire range to try.
Free of charge.
Happy days indeed.
The biggest surprise was probably the pilsner, which was excellent and considerably better than I expected from a brewery I'd primarily associated with traditional cask ale. I also acquired a Rudgate bottle opener. This was also free of charge, although sadly its usefulness appears to be largely theoretical.
Still, it's reassuring to know that good quality traditional beer can now be sourced within a few minutes of home.
Not that I necessarily need another source of beer.
After all, Trembling Madness, potentially the greatest independent bottle shop on the planet, delivers to my postcode for free.
It would almost be rude not to take advantage.
Brewing Again
Now that we're finally beginning to resemble a functioning household rather than a storage facility full of moving boxes, I've managed to complete my first brew in the new house.
It wasn't exactly straightforward.
Back in the Midlands I had a fairly streamlined process. Everything had its place, everything connected properly and, by and large, brewing was easy.
Here?
Not so much.
The brew day involved setting up outside, running extension cables around the garden, sourcing water from one location, transporting wort to another and then realising that my fermenter—now effectively landlocked in the garage—was nowhere near where it ideally needed to be.
To make matters worse, I'd apparently forgotten how to brew.
At one point I managed to burn myself.
At another point I found myself staring at equipment I'd successfully operated for years while wondering how any of it worked.
Eventually, however, beer was produced.
Then came the fermenter setup.
Then the glycol chiller.
Then the kegerator.
Then all the inevitable troubleshooting.
It was an absolute faff but we're largely operational again.
As if that wasn't enough, I then decided it would be a good idea to build a proper CIP (Clean-In-Place) system for the fermenter.
Another excellent idea that turned into a surprisingly involved project.
Sourcing parts.
Ordering incorrect parts.
Waiting for replacement parts.
Assembling everything.
Getting it working.
Getting it working properly.
Still, it's finished now and I must admit it works brilliantly.
Which almost justifies the effort.
The First Yorkshire Brew
Despite all the faffing, the beer itself shows promise.
The original aim was fairly modest: use up some hops that had accumulated in the freezer and brew a simple American Pale Ale.
The recipe started life with Azacca, Mosaic and a clean Chico yeast strain. Nice, simple and reliable.
Then I did what I usually do.
I started tinkering.
The result was a large dose of Superdelic in the dry hop schedule because apparently I lack self-control when hops are involved.
The consequence is that the beer will need another couple of weeks to settle properly and will almost certainly possess a fairly aggressive hop character.
Exactly how aggressive remains to be seen.
For now, I'm cautiously optimistic.
Which is generally how all brewing adventures start.
Hotels, Running and Priorities
On the running front, I've continued exploring Yorkshire while also spending two or three nights a week away with work.
One thing I've realised is that I now choose hotels based almost entirely on two criteria:
- Is there a decent running route nearby?
- Is there decent beer available afterwards?
Everything else is secondary.
Some people care about thread count.
I care about mileage and cask ale.
I've now narrowed my preferred work locations down to one venue in the North East and a couple in the Midlands.
The North East option is probably my favourite.
It's a pub with rooms rather than a hotel and has become something of a home from home. The running route isn't particularly spectacular but it's reliable, runnable all year and long enough to get a decent session in.
The rooms are cosy, the breakfast is superb and the black pudding deserves special mention because it's genuinely the best I've ever had.
And that's saying something.
The staff have reached the point where they know my name, know which room I prefer and, perhaps most importantly, know what beer and breakfast I'll be having.
I don't even order anymore.
Things simply appear.
That's a dangerous level of comfort.
The biggest attraction, however, is the beer.
The cask beer they serve is probably the best I've encountered anywhere.
They regularly rotate through beers from Ossett, Yorkshire Dales Brewery and Richmond Brewery, and I've yet to have a poor pint.
The Yorkshire Dales blonde ale in particular is astonishingly good at around 3.8%. Exactly the sort of beer that reminds you why cask ale remains one of Britain's greatest contributions to civilisation.
The Midlands Contender
One of the Midlands locations runs it surprisingly close.
The hotel sits in a picture-postcard stone village straight out of a tourist brochure.
The surrounding countryside provides fantastic running routes which remain usable year-round, while nearby sits Nene Valley Brewery.
Now there's a place worth visiting.
Brewery.
Taproom.
Restaurant.
All under one roof.
You can happily move from a traditional blonde ale on cask through to a proper West Coast IPA without leaving your seat.
The staff are friendly, the beer is excellent and the atmosphere always seems relaxed.
They don't know my name yet.
But they're working on it.
Accidental Fitness
One strange consequence of all this running is that I appear to have become reasonably fit.
Not deliberately.
Certainly not because I'm training for anything.
In fact, I'm probably averaging around fifty miles a week without having a race or challenge in the diary.
Which sounds suspiciously like training despite me claiming not to be training.
The hip flexor, while not entirely cured, is behaving itself far better than it has done for years. This may or may not be linked to the fact that I've finally started stretching on a semi-regular basis.
Who knew?
More surprisingly, my pace has improved considerably.
Without trying.
Without caring.
And without doing anything specifically designed to make me faster.
I'm running around a minute per mile quicker than I was previously and feel stronger than I have in years.
It's all very confusing.
What's Next?
The next adventure is already taking shape.
The first challenge—assuming my recently rolled ankle behaves itself—is to run into York.
It's only around fifteen or sixteen miles depending on how badly I navigate.
The plan is simple.
Run to York.
Visit Trembling Madness.
Visit another craft beer bar whose name currently escapes me.
Finish at York Tap.
Get the train home.
A near-perfect day.
Beyond that, my mate and I are planning a two-day running and beer expedition across North Yorkshire.
The rough plan is:
- Run in either the Dales or the Moors.
- Stay overnight in a pub.
- Drink beer.
- Run into York the following day.
- Drink more beer.
It's important to have goals.
There are also trips to Leeds and Sheffield that need proper planning.
Unfortunately, I recently missed both the Wetherby Beer Festival and a historic beer event in Leeds featuring a ridiculous collection of world-class cask ales.
The latter was particularly annoying because I didn't know it was happening and, even if I had, I was otherwise occupied.
Specifically, I was dragging myself to London to watch the Pixies at the Royal Albert Hall in support of a mate.
The gig was good.
The travel was not.
And I remain committed to my long-standing policy:
- SHALL. NOT. TRAVEL. TO. LONDON. TO. SEE. A. GIG.
At least not until the next time I inevitably do.
Anyway, that's enough rambling for now.
The beer stocks are healthy, the running continues and Yorkshire is proving every bit as wonderful as I'd remembered.
Any si thi in a bit.
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