when the quebeqois stretched themselves out and wiggled their toes, they got as far into the hinterland forests as montreal. when the arcadians were escorted out of montreal, the boat carrying hundreds of them sank. one man decided he would walk back to montreal from the lonely sea-side off of newfoundland. and he made it.
he was a latter-day red cross knight, escaping the bowels of hell through the literal bowels of satan. according to the cosmological ideals of the time, that was the only way to reach true enlightenment; marching through the literal and figurative shit of the world in a final bid to find god.
the end of the world. a lonely place of unspeakable beauty and horrible mystery. golden with promise and daunting with the unknown.
what better way to celebrate the ephemeral and factual escape from ourselves and tyranny than by reaching la fin du monde on your own.
beautifully golden and triple-fermented, this is the effective opus of a genius brewing system out of those very same forests of canada. and the only marching you'll have to do is from your seat to the bathroom.
welcome to the first round of canadian perfection of traditional belgian-style beers. and there's much more to come.
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