Horniblow's Tavern American Ale: scary stuff, says Greg Barbera.

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Horniblow's Tavern American Ale
Submitted by Greg Barbera

Kevin Ronkko, our Deputy Beer Delegate for New Hampshire.It was the summer of 2004 and I was working as a bartender for a music series held at a food market in Durham, NC. The organizer had parntnered up with this new brewery called Edenton which was just down the road in Raleigh.

Part of the deal was to sell Edenton beers exclusively as a way for them to get brand recognition in the local market. Another part of the deal was that the brewing company would provide a pony keg backstage for the band and staff.

The keg they sent was Horniblow's Tavern American Ale. This was special beer.

Horniblow's Tavern American Ale

Thar she Horniblows...

It tasted so yummy (malty) and seemed to pack a punch. Back then, North Carolina had a cap on the limit of alcohol a beer could have in it and that cap was 6% abv.

Now I'm not saying this keg beer was over the limit, but it indeed had some unique properties which made people do strange things.

I think it was at the second show when a local country band was playing that I first notice the supreme power of Edenton's frothy Horniblow's Tavern American Ale. A squall of rain had forced the show to come to a halt for about an hour. I was backstage helping feed the crew and I saw some of the guys from the country band pounding beers.

Warning: may cause extremes of behaviour.I knew the singer so I walked up and told him to be careful; told him that the beer was potent.

He turned to his band and said, "Did you hear that guys? The beer is potent."

As a musician myself, it's quite common for bands to get free beer when you play and what I was hinting at was that this beer was no PBR or Miller High Life. Just sayin', that's all.

So the rain stops and the band takes the stage again, only this time they are playing their songs a little faster and a little harder. If I remember correctly, they finished off their set with a Clash cover! I'm telling you, it was the beer.

A few weeks later, one of the partners of the venue quaffed one too many glasses of Horniblow's Tavern American Ale and began groping several ladies. He even smacked the ass of one of my co-workers (OK, so her ass is looks very smackable... but he is married. And so is she!).

Towards the end of the summer, my friend had decided to book a show featuring a bunch of garage rock bands. There was a local band on the bill from Raleigh, a duo of seasoned vets from the scene who I knew well. Once again, I gave warning. This time it was to the drummer. He didn't take heed.
Anything brewed in this get-up is bound to be scary.

He fell off his drum stool several times, dropped way too many sticks and basically gave one of the most piss poor performances I've ever seen by a drummer. The band broke up shortly after that gig. When I saw the drummer a few weeks later he said, "I should have listened to you."

All this leads me to my own ass whoopin' by the mighty Edenton Horniblow's Tavern American Ale.



As the summer music season was winding down, the staff found themselves quenching their thrist earlier and earlier in evening. But one night, we spilled over into an afterparty at a bar down the street and brought the unfininshed keg with us.

I got beer poured on me during a conversation, in which the girl across from me disagreed with a statement I had made. That's always a good sign that I should leave the bar and go home, which I did.

I woke up the next morning in what I thought was a cold sweat. It wasn't a cold sweat. It turned out I had pissed myself. A first.

Now I'm no rookie. I spent the better part of a decade in the late '80s/early '90s playing rugby, both in college and out for a men's club, so I've been known to pound a beer or two. But I had never in my life pissed the bed from drinking.

So now, when I walk into the beer store and see Edenton's Horniblow's Tavern American Ale (the one with the clipper ship on the label), I always think twice: it could be a good night or it could be a bad night.

But then, not knowing is half the fun... right?

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