World's Smallest Harbor, World's biggest punch bowl, World's best quirky microbrewery

Roger here....  The ambient temperature in Newport, Oregon in early June seems to be 59 degrees.  The on-line weather sites almost always indicate a high of 59 degrees.  The car thermometer almost always shows 59 degrees.  The weather channel on my iPhone invariably says it is 59 degrees.  Sometimes it is 59 and cloudy and feels cool.  Sometimes it is 59 and sunny and feels wonderful.  Sometimes it is 59 and foggy.  Foggy.  That is what it was during the morning dog walk a couple of days ago, as shown in the opening picture.

After the morning walk, we hopped in the car and drove a few miles to visit the small town of Depoe Bay.  It is a cool little town, and quite unusual.  The shops all line highway 101 and face the ocean on the north side of the bridge.

The bridge spans a small inlet that opens into a small harbor.  It is a very interesting-looking place.  Too bad it was so gray.  Did I tell you it was foggy?

My favorite view of the harbor is on the walkway below the classic arches of the bridge.

Dianne found some sea lions lounging near the bridge.

I found a view of the ocean at low-tide.  Still foggy.



After a walk through town, we headed back south, stopping at the Devil's Punchbowl.  Not much to see until you get right up to the edge.  Then...

Pretty interesting, huh?   (Dianne here:  I think we need to see it at high tide to get the full effect.)

The views of the ocean from the punchbowl were spectacular --- even in the fog.

Little black dots in the gray water added a new element to the gray day.  (Surfers, taken with my iPhone [we'll explain why.  If I'd used my camera it might have been a good photo.] -- D.)

Down the road, we stopped at Beverly Beach where we hoped to find agates on the beach.  After a short stroll, we abandoned the quest --- sand, rocks, driftwood, and water.  No agates from our view.

The next day (59 degrees and partly cloudy), we stopped by Historic Bay Street in Newport.  

This is a working port.  The harbor side of the street was filled with commercial fishing businesses.  Across the street, there were shops and restaurants.  A good place to wander around for a while.

The most interesting sight, at least to me, occurred as we were walking out of a shop.  Across the street thousands of shrimp were being dumped from the dock area into a truck for transport from an elevated conveyor.  Notice the birds waiting to take their share of the catch.  Always wash shrimp before eating.  

We intended to visit the Rogue Ales Public House.  It was lunch time.  Time for some lunch and some craft beer.  We were brought samples of a dark beer, Dad's Little Helper --- very good.  Dianne had a BLT with home-brewed root beer.  I had a salmon melt with bleu cheese and a Dead Guy Ale (Rogue's flagship brew).

The next afternoon (59 degrees and mostly sunny) we took the 3:00 p.m. Rogue Ale Brewery Tour.  The brewery is located across the bay from the Public House and adjacent to the bridge.

What a fun and quirky place this is.

 We were not sure how to enter the facility.  It appeared to be a working business and not a restaurant/bar.  We soon confirmed that it was a working business.

We finally found the entrance behind a stack of kegs and through a red silo.  When we entered, it still did not seem to be a restaurant/bar.  Men were working throughout the facility.  We followed others through the work area and found a chalkboard, a gift shop and signage for the restaurant/bar upstairs.

We looked around in the gift shop and asked the clerk where we should go for the tour.  She directed us back to the chalkboard in the working area where we joined nine other people.

Our tour guide asked us to be careful of the hoses on the floor, the water on the floor, and the moving fork lifts.  He also asked us not to bump into any of the expensive equipment.  Throughout the tour he talked about how the business slowly progressed from a beer-making hobby started by a few fraternity brothers to a microbrewery that now distributes product to all fifty states and many foreign countries. 

A frequent phrase from the tour guide was, "It's all about the beer."  He emphasized that quality has always been more important than quantity.  Most of the barley, hops, and other ingredients are grown on brewery-owned farms in the Willamette Valley of Oregon.  They even have their own beehives.  The number of national awards that Rogue has won for their varieties of ale is impressive.

They also hand make their own barrels from Oregon White Oak.  No nails in these vats.

Another theme of the tour dealt with the name of the brewery.  "Rogue" has nothing to do with the nearby Rogue River.  In this case "Rogue" means do your own thing.  Case in point, Rogue Ale is bottled in 22 ounce bottles.  Some states refused to allow it to be sold, but the brewmaster did not care, stating he could always sell it other places.  Eventually, all the states gave in.  

Another example of the Rogue philosophy is that people are important.  The owner is reluctant to automate his process, preferring to give people employment.  Every bottle in the bottling photo above is touched by human hands.

Lots of beer in this cooler, ready to be shipped.  In the warehouse, stacks of product were ready to load on trucks.  One large load was bound for Shanghai, China.

This once-small business continues to grow.  Rogue just accepted delivery of three new stainless steel vats.


Dianne and I both enjoyed, "Brewer's Banner," which seems to watch over the brewery.  Brewer was the owner's black lab.  He ran freely throughout the brewery, doing his Rogue thing for many years.  He passed away in 2007, after living many great years with his owner.  All of the Rogue Public Houses, and there are several throughout the northwest, have areas for dogs.  The dogs get a bowl of water, and some even have doggie menus.

Back to the gift shop.  I intended to buy a Dead Guy Ale t-shirt, but somehow I could not see myself wearing a t-shirt with a smiling skeleton on the front, so I bought one with a bicycle.  We also bought three large bottles of beer to share with our daughters when they visit us in a few weeks: hazelnut brown nectar; voodoo doughnut chocolate peanut butter and banana ale; and voodoo doughnut bacon maple ale.  The two voodoo bottles are in pepto-bismol pink containers.  Should be an adventure!

No brewery tour would be complete without sampling the product.  We went upstairs to the pub, bypassing the restaurant that overlooks the harbor for another time.

Rogue has 40 different brews.  Several of them were on tap at the pub.  I hope to sample each of them before we leave Newport.  (Dianne assures me that she will not allow that to happen.)

Dianne tried the Dead Guy Ale.  I had a tasty Chipotle Ale.  Pretty good!

I am sure that you have heard the expression, bad things happen in threes.  Well, we just experienced three very minor, irritating things in a three-day period.  Our Weber Grill that we have had for a long time died the other day.  An extensive cleaning did not bring it back to life.  The next day, the lens of our Canon point-and-shoot camera that had been acting up froze and would not function.  A longer, extensive troubleshoot conducted by Dianne did not bring it back to life.  
The next day our newer Canon camera, that we bought fearing that the old one would soon die, also froze and could not be repaired without taking it to a shop.  Well, crap.  Evidently, our photos from the beach did them in.  We discovered the hard way that blowing sand is not good for the moving lenses.  We also discovered that the neoprene pouches that we had been protecting our cameras in actually create static electricity, which attracts sand and dust particles.  BTW, the pictures in the next two posts were taken exclusively from our cell phones.  All three issues have been resolved.  We found a replacement grill, identical to the one we had, and assembled it in 59 degree weather.  We also found a replacement Canon camera with a better zoom.  We won't be taking it to the beach.

I apologize for the grayness in the first photos, but it was gray.  I promise that the photos in the next post with be as brightly colorful as these were dismal, all with an ambient temperature of 59 degrees.

The pet picture of the day was taken at the beach near the horse staging area with a cell phone.  If you look closely, a dog is riding in the saddle behind the man on this beautiful horse.

Shiner, Texas --- Home of my Favorite Brewery

Roger here.... On most mornings I awaken to someone licking my nose -- not Dianne, Bandido.  This morning was different.  The first thing that roused me from a deep sleep was the Shiner Comanche Marching Band (drum line) as the musicians practiced on the football field right next to the municipal park where we are camped.  Marching band must be first period.


We are parked in Green-Dickson Municipal Park in a spacious  (water/electric) site ($20).  It is a great site, but our arrival was not the best.  We pulled into the wrong entrance of the park because there was no signage.  After a few stops along the roadway, Hector, a park employee, pointed us to the correct area.  (Hector is the kind of friendly Texan that we have come to respect in this state.)  When we found our spot, directly behind the city war memorial, the wind picked up and the sky turned purple.  Rain.  YES!  Oh no, I haven't hooked up the electricity.  Crap.  Oh, well.  Rain.  YES!


In order to pay for the site, we needed to drive a couple of miles into town to pay at the Municipal Building.  Since Bandido is afraid of thunder, he went with us, hopping along on Dianne's lap the entire way.  This blog does not have audio, but suffice it to say, audio feed of the trip would have included several of the following: "Ouch!, sit still!, Bandido SIT DOWN!, ouch, you're hurting me! ouch, ouch, ouch......  When we pulled up to the building, the sky broke loose --- a torrential rain, accompanied by Fourth-of-July type lightning and thunder.  I was soaked when I burst into the municipal offices.   My first sight was of  the employees who were literally laughing and dancing because it was finally raining.  I did not mind being wet, and I enjoyed the Texas hospitality that I was afforded.


OK.  You may be asking....  Why did we travel to a small Texas town in the middle of nowhere, between San Antonio and the gulf coast?  The answer is simple:  Beer.

The Spoetzl Brewery has been brewing Shiner beer since 1909.  The local German and Czech immigrants were anxious to find a German-type beer to remind them of their homeland.  They constructed the first facility and brought Kosmos Spoetzl from Germany to serve as the first brewmaster.  It is still a family operation.  The hops used in the brewing process are still imported from Germany and Czechoslovakia (and the State of Washington). 


I first tasted Shiner Bock when we visited Luckenbach, Texas a few years ago.  It seemed to be the only beer that the concertgoers were drinking.  I liked it, and still do.  (Even I like it, and I'm not really a beer drinker -- D.)  When planning our return to Retama, I discovered that Shiner, with a slight detour, was on the way.  So here we are.  Don't touch the copper cauldrons --- they're hot!

Ann took us on the first tour of the day.  What fun it was to hear about the local history and Kosmos Spoetzl, who must have been quite a character.  The brewery employs 90 workers, including a man (honored in the main hall) who continues to brew beer after 63 years -- a better man than me.  Watching the brewing and bottling process reminded me of our tour of the Tabasco Factory a couple of years ago.  Lots of fun.  (Unfortunately, no cameras allowed inside the brewing facility).

The tour ended at the gift shop, of course.  Not a problem for me.  Every participant was given four tokens, redeemable for sampling four beers.  The gold-medal-winning (out of 99 breweries) seasonal Oktoberfest beer was my favorite.  There were lots of things to buy.  After the hospitality, how could we not buy a few things?

We helped Shiner's bottom line by purchasing a large thermometer for our patio area at Retama, a Shiner ice bucket,  a couple of t-shirts, a visor (for Dianne), a bottle cozy, two Shiner beer glasses, and a decal for the inside of one of our outdoor bays.  (Sounds like a lot, but we knew before we got there that we'd be shopping for some cool Shiner stuff for our patio) -- D.


After I ran out of beer tokens, we headed for the local post office to pick up our mail.  Along the way, Hector (the guy that helped us find our site at the park) recognized us while driving by in his truck and waved.  I am sure that all Texans are not overly friendly, but we seem to encounter those that are everywhere we go.

Lunch time.  We selected the Shiner Restaurant and Tavern.  The inside matched the outside.  The walls were lined with old library shelves displaying Texas artifacts.  The ceiling was tin.  Right after we sat down, Dianne noticed Hector at another table, also having lunch, and he waved to us again.  (We feel like members of the family).  I insisted that Dianne pose between the Indian and the Shiner ice bucket.  Not her idea.  Really, not her idea.  What a good sport.

We both had the Friday lunch special -- chicken fried steak with made-from-scratch gravy and mashed potatoes; we are in Texas, after all.  Definitely not on our diets, but sometimes ya gotta splurge.  A heart attack on a plate, but sooo good.  Tonight, I will only eat veggies.  Really, that is true.  

After dinner, we took a few pictures of the restored downtown area.

I noticed a common theme.  Can you pick it out?

We drove by a beautiful Catholic Church (stained glass windows imported from Bavaria)....

I insisted that Dianne pose again.......

And we headed back to our peaceful spot in the park.

Prosit!!!!


Dianne here:  Stop the presses!   This was the original end of the blog today.  Just had to add a little more:


Should you camp in the municipal park at Shiner, you may not need your alarm clock.  7:00 a.m. Friday morning the marching band practiced (had to be before school, not first period as Roger stated).  We planned our departure for first thing Saturday morning, heading to the gulf coast.  Well, 7:00 a.m. Saturday morning we awakened to the sound of multiple school buses and hundreds of adolescent voices right outside our windows!

We were completely surrounded by the trappings of a multi-school cross country invitational tournament!   And I do mean surrounded -- even our picnic table was piled high with gym bags!  

The runners went on a route around the large field across from our motor home, and back on the road directly in front of our large windows before looping back to the finish line.  It was obvious we were not going to be leaving any time soon!  

One of the best things about retirement is the lack of schedules.   We decided to forget about leaving before the end of the tournament (we couldn't have anyway) and just kick back and enjoy the view.  It brought back memories to Roger of his days as principal of a large junior high school and all the extracurricular events he attended there as principal.  This also seemed to be junior-high-age kids.


The pet photo of the day shows Charlie and Bandido watching the cross country runners pass by our site.  Even they enjoyed the show!

Tomorrow.... on to the Gulf of Mexico (unless we change our minds).