sell guitar, buy boat

I'm thinking of selling my electric guitar, amplifier, and pedals so that the impending boat purchase will not be entirely unsound financially speaking. I never play it any more. I've played it for maybe five hours total since I moved to Bloomington five years ago. I play my acoustic a lot, but not the electric. So I thought I'd make a video to show people how the guitar and amp sound (pretty good if you ask me, it's an Epiphone Sheraton from 1995 and a Crate Vintage Club 50 VC5310 amp, all tube, very nice). But I had such a good time making the video I'm having second thoughts about selling it.

But if someone wants to give me $1000 for everything it's a done deal.

Of course I was thinking of enlisting the Irishman's help and fabricating my own pontoon boat. That would be cheaper.

behold the boat

I will purchase this boat from North Fork in the next few days. I will put it on my credit card. Then I will fish the ever lovin' bejesus out of the White River and Sugar Creek and probably some others as well. I will take 1000 mile float trips through the NW Territories. I'll sail the Yangtze. I'll tame the Tigris. Aggravate the Amazon. Sustain the Susquehanna. Devastate the Delaware. Maul the Madison. Blow up the Buffalo. You get the idea. Want to take a float trip with me?



Behold more pictures here.

Spring Break Extravaganze 2008 Part III: wherein our hero consumes a wild pig tamale

I am a coyote in a frozen field hunting morning mice. I am a black bear carcass rotting slowly in the cold woods. I am one hundred species of salamander scampering amongst wet leaf litter. I am a war painted brook trout rising with a cocksure pop to a mayfly. I am a lazy brown trout just hooked on a midge in a writhing slimy circle of fat meat. I am a six hundred year old hemlock in the Cataloochee Valley dying. I’m a gully washer eroding the mountain side silting the river. I am the Southern Apple Latch In Mountains.












Stopped on the Delayed Harvest section of the rather high and muddy Tuckaseegee River on my way home and caught five or six stockers on Double Bunnies and big rubber leg stone flies. This is Mr. Fatty Labrador:

Spring Break Extravaganze 2008 Part II: wherein our hero catches many fat trouts

The Davidson River begins as rainfall running off parkway asphalt at 6000'. It percolates through Pisgah's Spruce-Fir forest and falls off the flanks of Cold Mountain. It runs through a fish hatchery then winds through four wild catch and release fly fishing only miles until running out flat and slow into Brevard.

The fish run large. They see a lot of fisherman so you can walk right on top of them. But they also see a lot of flies so they're rather difficult to catch. Midges are their standard fare and small, sparsely dressed is the only way to catch them most of the time (though large mayflies were hatching, blue quills?, but they weren't feeding on them at all). I didn't use anything smaller than #22. I caught most of the fish below on #26 parachute, thread body midges. I love casting tiny flies on 7x tippet to large sipping fishes. Lot like tailwater fishing.

I caught a lot of fish. Which was nice after getting skunked in the park. I caught a lot of average size, 12" rainbows and browns but also a fair number of larger, fatter brown trout. I hooked up with some very large fish, 20"+, but broke them off. I also caught the same brook trout twice. Probably an escapee from the hatchery.

Click none to enlarge.

















Stay tuned for part III wherein our hero digs ditches in Cullowhee to prepare for the arrival of the Atlantean tornadoes.

Spring Break Extravaganze 2008 Part I: wherein our hero finds himself fishless

Ahhhh, blogging from the road. My favorite kind of blogging when you get right down to it. I'm here in beautiful Brevard North Cackalack fresh off of two days on the Davidson River catching many trouts. But the trouts will have to wait. I will first regale you with tales from Cades (sic) Cove, the first of my three Spring Break Extravaganza 2008 destinations.

Cades Cove is a large, flat, mostly treeless valley in the northwest quadrant of Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Through this large, flat, mostly treeless valley runs Abrams Creek. It should also be indicated at this juncture that Cades Cove supposedly sits over predominantly limestone thus giving Abrams Creek an abnormally high alkalinity and more stable temperatures than other creeks in the southern Appalachians. This is all good for the trouts. What’s bad for the trouts is that there was a serious drought this past summer and the fish that took the hardest hit were rainbows below 2000’. Abrams Creek is mostly rainbows. And Cades Cove is below 2000’. This may be one reason I did not catch a single trout. Other reasons might be the high water and cold temperatures. And my lack of angling prowess should also be considered.

But Cades Cove is pretty. Here are some pictures. I think that's a coyote. Or maybe a fox? Red wolf? Stay tuned for the Davidson River, wherein our hero angled many fat trouts, and the impending backpacking trip through the Jocassee Gorges in search of the elusive South Cackalack steelhead wherein our hero will undoubtedly catch many fine and large fishes wrap-up from inside Sean's keg of Guinness.

Click some to enlarge.











Trout sneak peak.

the many ways in which life has screwed me over in the past five days or so

So on Tuesday I woke up feeling pretty crappy. Went to the "Health Center" on Wednesday, they counted my white blood cells (which was pretty cool), and they inferred from this that I have the flu. Fair enough. They are doctors. And lab technicians. They put me on Tamiflu, gave me some more codeine syrup (which really helps me sleep...) and sent me on my way. This was particularly bad timing because, as you all know, I had been planning a large fishing/camping/backpacking/drinking/friend seeing extravaganza to the Carolinas (aka the Cackalacks) for some time now. I was supposed to have left yesterday early in the morning. I might have been able to do that even with the flu had some punk ass bitch not broken the rear driver side window of my 1997 Honda Accord. Break the rich people's windows you mother fuckers. That'll show them and their bourgeois ways. Leave the old Hondas out of it.

So I had to get that fixed.

Then I yelled at the toilet for a while this morning. That was awesome.

But now I'm feeling better and I shall have many pictures and tales of trouts to share with you in the coming weeks.

Love,
Matthew D. Dunn, LPN.

dude, it's the tortugan way

Daniel "The Coolest Person I Know" Hanks sent me these scans from our 2002 trip to the Dry Tortugas along with some maps for "Thee Greatest Spring Break Extravaganza Ever." We will be bisecting the Transylvania escarpment. Falling on the fault. Tumbling down waterfalls. All in search of the elusive South Carolina Steelhead.

Daniel:


Me:


Sean:


Seb:

be a fisherman not a wisherman

My favorite fisherman is your favorite fisherman's favorite fisherman.

fishapples.net

Fishbeer.com's new sister site.

fine strong ales

A group of friends are trying to have regular so called "tastings" of beer. I've missed the last couple due to sickness and grant writing, but I made a come back in strong fashion this past Wednesday by hosting barley wine night. Yaniv, Phil, Chris, Ryan, Jeane and Jeryl (sp?) were in attendance. Here are some remarks.

North Coast Old Stock Ale 2002: big fruity nose, apples, musty palate- quite sweet with a pleasing tart acidity in the finish.

North Coast Old Stock Ale 2007: more subdued nose, a bit hoppier, but also a bit sweeter with fuller mouthfeel.

Old Dobzhansky 2003 (my homebrew): bready nose, honey on the palate, quite sweet, floral, tight finish.

Gale's Prize Old Ale 1996: still, molasses in the nose, sweet palate but with a hint of mustiness, surprisingly dry

Gale's Prize Old Ale 1997: tart and sour, the way all other Gale's I've ever tasted have tasted, the 1996 is the sole exception. But the sourness is well balanced by sweet malts, quite nice really.

Mikkeller Big Worse 2007 (?): all the way from Denmark, brewed in Belgium, the Danes apparently have a hard on for big American hops. Very clean, almost chemical like hops and caramel malts dominate, very resinous.

Old Foghorn 2006: nice hoppy nose, fruity also, grapes?, tight palate, winey.

Nogne O #100 2007 (?): this name has a line diagonally through the O but I don't know how to render that with HTML. Another big American hop bomb, kind of astringent, very dark, kind of harsh.

Victory Old Horizontal 2005:

Left Hand Widdershins 2007 (?): oak aged, very smoky, big phenolics, going bad?

New Holland Pilgrim's Dole 2007 (?): tasted like bourbon but we don't think it was barrel aged.

Port Brewing Imperial Stout:

Gales Christmas Ale:

Dogfishhead Olde School"

random gose:

Troegs Rugged Trail:

fairly drunk:

Click the first to enlarge.

scarce o'fat

Like miniature men
we inspect rugged waves of corduroy
covered with a forest
of slender gray winter ingots
and a mottled brown carpet of leaves.

We walk a graphite crucible's rim
that threatens sylvan calcination
and switchback down a crumpled hollow
full of yellowwood trees
and a falling stream
obvious and bright
betwixt green pillows.

Meandering from wall to wall
leaving to ascend
waves of land
rolling to and fro.

Ingot.


What what.

converting malt/beer ratios to original gravities: the beer historian's conundrum

One of my favorite blogs, Shut up About Barclay Perkins, is mostly about the history of beer and brewing. Ron Pattinson posts some really great stuff from primary sources (where he gets it all I have no idea) and I think this semester I might have my beer class (which I should have been preparing for instead of writing this post) read some of when we talk about the Porter Revolution. Maybe.

Today Dr. Pattinson posts some recipes from A Cyclopaedia of Six Thousand Practical Receipts, and Collateral Information by Arnold James Cooley (1854). It was common practice before the widespread acceptance of the hydrometer (or saccharometer) to express the strength of a beer in terms of how much malt was used to make it. This makes sense considering the fact that alcoholic strength depends mainly on how much sugar the yeast have to convert to alcohol and how much sugar depends on how much starch you have from the grain.

But there are other things that effect the alcoholic strength of a beer and this is what makes using malt/beer ratios problematic. The quality of the grain, how the mash is conducted (temperature for instance), the moisture content of the grain, how the fermentation is conducted (temperature for instance), what kind of yeast is used etc. all influence the strength of a beer. So the malt/beer ratios can be pretty variable indicators of beer strength.

But historians of beer and brewing have little choice but to make do with this system because it's all we have. And to get an idea of how strong these beers were it's helpful to try and convert the malt/beer ratios into original gravities, into figures that represent the density of the wort prior to fermentation. Because the density of wort is influenced primarily by the amount of sugar in the wort, it is a good indicator of how strong the beer can be. Of course you have to take into account how the fermentation it conducted etc. but original gravity is a much better indicator of the potential strength of a beer than is malt/beer ratios.

And it's the way we speak about the strength of beer today so it's something we can wrap our heads around pretty easily.

So let's get down to the brass tacks, as it were. Dr. Pattinson intimates that Cooley had no idea what he was talking about for several reasons, but the one I latched onto was the fact that he thinks Cooley got the malt/beer ratios wrong.

For the "Ale, Burton" Cooley says a barrel and a half of beer (48 gallons) was drawn from a quarter of malt (64 gallons of malt). Pattinson says this would result in an OG of over 1400. This is very, very strong. With today's technology you could probably make a 16% abv beer from that wort. In the 1850s, they probably would be able to coax that wort down to a final gravity of at most 1040, probably lower, making a beer of over 13% abv.

Similarly, in his description of "Ale, Dorchester" Cooley says they drew two barrels (64 gallons) from one quarter of malt. Pattinson claims this would give an OG of 1100. Again, this is very strong. This wort would likely make a +10% abv beer.

I think Pattinson might be overshooting a bit.

In her wonderful book Country House Brewing in England, 1500-1900 Pamela Sambrook says that October Beer (the strongest brewed in the English country house) would typically be a barrel drawn from ("well over" in some cases) one quarter of malt (more than eight and a half bushels). And I doubt this brew had an OG over 1140 and therefore a FG probably over 1050 FGs probably go higher the farther back in history you go). And by Pattinson's conversions a quarter of malt would make a barrel of beer with an OG probably over 1180, extremely strong.

Similarly, the "Ales" that were commonly brewed in these country houses were made by drawing one barrel from usually four bushels of malt, or half a quarter, or two barrels from one quarter (p.117). And this brew was meant for regular consumption (at least by the families, at least before ~1700) so I doubt it had an OG of 1100. Because regular consumption of a beer over 10% abv would make you drizunk like you wouldn't belizeve.

Moreover, entire guile small beer in both Sambrook and Ellis is about five barrels from a quarter (Sambrook p.121), which by Pattinson's calculations would probably be around 1040, too strong to adequately quench the field laborer's thirst without making him fall down wasted betwixt the rows. I'm thinking small and table beer had OGs around 1020.

Ellis gives similar numbers in The London and Country Brewer for strong ale as well.

In Bennett's Ale, Beer, and Brewsters she claims that on Lady Clare's estate in the 14th century they were brewing almost 500 gallons of ale per week, drawing two barrels from each quarter (p.18). On Pattinson's conversion, that's a shit ton of 1100 OG ale to be brewing every week. And a lot of very strong ale to drink considering Bennett says that in an average household a person would drink about 1/4 gallon of ale every day (p.19). A drunken household indeed.

I suppose I would just be interested in knowing how Pattinson does his conversion and the justification for it because it doesn't square with what I know from the primary and secondary literature on the subject. I've built this nice little house of historical beer strengths and with one wave of his hand Pattinson threaten's to blow it off like so much fart in the wind.