Charleston Day 3

Charleston Day Three

We saw a peacock approaching us, and there was a truck behind him. Naturally, I started to worry about his safety. But then, the peacock raised his tail feathers and started his show, completely unfazed by my concerns. We were at— you know, I have no idea— Magnolia Plantation Gardens. Suddenly, a kid ran over, and now I was worried about the kid's safety. Peacocks can be pretty aggressive, after all.

Next thing I knew, my wife sprinted toward the peacock, camera in hand, determined to get the peacock's good side. I couldn't help but feel a little jealous. I made sure to point out that she was risking her life, but she ran back over, claiming it was totally worth it. I saw the pictures— she was right, it was worth it.

After the peacock encounter and taking in the beautiful flowers, the whole excursion felt pretty short, but definitely memorable.

Then they hit me with, "We are going to walk through the swamp."

"What kind of swamp? Are we talking Ogres, quicksand, or on our way to Mordor?"

"The kind that actually exists in real life."

"So, alligators. It's alligators."

We got hung up looking for alligators, which we did see, and a couple of snake-necked birds whose name I refuse to look up due to a fear of googling "flying snake." We also saw about 100,000—or a more realistic number—giant spiders. The Silk Garden Spider was all over the place. On the way out, I saw a sign that said the name Audubon was synonymous with nature. I’m 90% sure it’s actually synonymous with a BMW blowing past you in Germany while you’re going 120mph in a Ford Focus— or is that just my personal experience?

We stopped at a Harris Teeter for provisions. They had a great beer selection for nightcaps. I went with a couple of session pale ales to keep the alcohol percentage down but still get some hops in. This meant we needed to avoid spicy snacks. I was in the self-checkout line when my wife did that thing where she forgot something in the store and left me to crumble under pressure. I remember this from my childhood. The third time the self-checkout helper had to assist, she just took over.

The first brewery on our list was The Baker and The Brewer. So, like scones and coffee? Nope, pizza and beer. So much better! It was a great first stop since we could grab some lunch. I put in a pizza order and tried a gose (goh-zah). Some were a little skeptical about getting whole pizzas. They wanted to snack throughout the day. For me, those two things are not mutually exclusive. After the gose, I switched to a session since I was just getting warmed up. I checked with my beautiful timekeeper, and she said we could have two here since we were eating pizza. She quickly corrected herself, "Well, you are eating a pizza." We got a sticker— that’s two!

Next stop: Palmetto Brewing. The only kind of Palmetto anything this Floridian is familiar with was the Palmetto bug. This place was named after the Palmetto tree, which, apparently, is on South Carolina's state flag. I knew states had their own flags. I got a Bradley Cooper selfie of our whole group, and we made our way up to the bar. There was a lot of merging going on in Charleston beer spots. Catawba Brewing operated out of the same space as Palmetto Brewing. I tried one from both sides—a hazy pineapple IPA from Palmetto and my wife’s brown ale from Catawba. Against all odds, one of our two mango beers at the house is from here. I was being haunted. They didn’t have my shirt size, which, of course, made me want a brewery shirt even more. They had stickers, but— ew. They charge a dollar for them. I bought one, but it will not have a prominent place on my kegerator, good sir.

Revelry Brewing was stop number three? Where has this been all my life? This brewery had fantastic beer, the best shirts, and hats so good they made me want one. I pay way too much for my stupid haircut to start paying for hats, though. A discussion broke out about why we thought their logo was a trumpet. Theories bounced around but didn’t get any traction. I didn’t want to be a nerd and tell everyone it was a bugle, not a trumpet. I got their hefeweizen, and my wife got a rice lager. I also tried their American Pale Ale, and it was terrific. That was at happy hour yesterday—the one that had happy hour. I tried a sip of a sour here, and I liked it—this is a turning point. Overall, a great stop. This one’s going on the all-time list.

Next up was Edmund's Oast—the restaurant this time. We were at their brewery location a couple of days ago. Of course, when you have this many beers, they all seem to run together. This place had fantastic food! We got some spicy apps and realized we needed heavier-bodied beers. I switched from my slightly sour Berliner Weiss (I’m starting to like those) to a sweet porter. It was the Edmund’s Oast Raspberry Peanut Butter Porter. I don’t care who you are—this is the beer for you. This glorious beer washed away all of my concerns and wrapped me in a big hug. I always say that the more descriptors in a food name, the better it will taste. This isn’t always true for beer. I don’t know how I’d feel about the Vanilla Hamburger Bun Crispy Fry Imperial IPA recipe I found on Reddit. But this beer deserved every word in its name. Time to grab a sticker and head to our last stop.

Fatty’s Beer Works made some interesting choices. The location wasn’t great—it was hard to Uber there. The beer was a polar choice between a light beer and several high-alcohol IPAs. I didn’t get the appeal of the AstroTurf we had to stand on in the sun. There was also a smooth jazz singer doing a great job. I felt like I was throwing darts at a board full of things you might find at a brewery. I asked for my last sticker of the day, and the bartender tried to make a deal. He said he’d give me a sticker if I promised to drink more beer. I smiled, pretended I didn’t hear him, and walked toward the parking lot. That sticker will go right underneath Palmetto Brewing.