In the winter time, which where I live seems to start in October and hang on until April, I keep my beer in the garage along some nice long shelves. My garage maintains a pretty even temperature over time, though in the deep of winter it keeps my beer as cold as my refrigerator would. (In the summer, I move my beer to the basement where it maintains an even 67 degrees)

I love my garage shelves because it is like my own mini-candy store. I always keep it stocked with a selection of pale ales, IPA’s, stouts, browns, wits… basically all of my favorite styles and those my friends and family like. Recently, from my 40th birthday gift, I have an extra bunch of bombers and unique beers; some of which are very expensive.

Just the other day when I went out to my car to leave for work I found a can Snapperhead IPA in front of my car lying on its side. It took me a few seconds to notice that other things were out of place, too, like the kids sleds were all knocked over and the newspapers were thrown about. It reminded me of that time when a rabid raccoon got stuck in my parents garage and freaked out, but that’s another story.

I stood there frozen letting the situation sink in. What creature got in here? When and how did he get in? Was he still here? WHAT THE FREAK DID HE DO TO ALL MY BEER? I spun around to see all of my beer bottles knocked over including some in six packs. What kind of monster did this? (and how do I kill it!?!)

I reluctantly started looking for which beers were broke. Searching, I didn’t see anything broken or spilled on the floor, nor did I smell any beer. I did find a few more cans on the floor. My Oskar Blues Ten Fidy was on the floor and dented along side of a can of Abbott Ale. But neither were broken. Further searching I found several bottles that had fallen off the shelf but landed in the paper recycling bin and they were fine too. (Double Simcoe IPA, Shipyard Export, & Green Flash Hop Head Red) The beer gods were with me!

I quickly attended to the immediate emergency… save the beer.  (and moved it all to the basement)

I couldn’t find any creature, but over the next couple of days there were signs he was still around. Finally, one evening when my wife was coming home from class she came in all in a tizzy… she thinks she knows where it is hiding. She was right, and in the corner hiding behind the bin of soccer balls was an opossum. The scared poor little creature didn’t know what to do. Since no beer was spilled, I found him not guilty and just sent him back out into the cold snow. And I thanked the beer gods by enjoying a Storm King Stout.