Holy shit! Maine’s making beer now!

As a lifelong resident of Massachusetts, I’ve always been a bit weary of Maine. That’s not to say that the Pine Tree State doesn’t have anything to offer. It does. It’s the spot to go for quintessential New England seafood, the people are friendly, and it’s scenic as hell. I wouldn’t try to dissuade anyone from vacationing in Maine.

With that said, there’s something a bit discomfiting about Maine.

Maybe it’s the fact that the state is in a weird spot culturally. After all, Maine is wedged right next to the libertarian paradise that is New Hampshire, the hippie epicenter of Vermont, and the progressive-to-the-point-of-scrutiny Massachusetts. What does this leave Maine claiming? Rocky shores and some mountains.

Or maybe I find Maine distressing because it’s mostly uninhabited. Last year I drove to Nova Scotia by myself, and spent the better part of six hours weaving my way through the wilderness of Maine. And let me tell you, if I had hit a moose out there (as the signs so comfortingly warned that I might), I would’ve been dead meat. There’s no way that anyone with the abilities of resuscitating my mangled corpse would’ve found me in time.

Then, of course, there’s Stephen King.

So it was with a bit of trepidation that I picked up a sixer of Bar Harbor Blueberry Ale from the folks at the Atlantic Brewing Company. As I brought the beers to the register, grappling with a barrage of thoughts, some rational and most not. “Is this ale any good? How strong is the blueberry flavor going to be? Is it safe to drink? Is this nothing more than Maine-yokels fooling us by bottling their pee after eating blueberry pie? Should I call Sam Adams and tell him that there’re some wild Mainers tryin’ to cut in on his action?”

By the time I got home, I was driven to investigate this beer.

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