Signing session

Hop in the Saddle turned out fabulously. The monolithic effort of creation, production and fundraising was successful. When I stroked the artful matte cover of a fresh copy, I knew we’d done it. After many late nights, missed dates and empty bottles—not to mention caffeine/chocolate abuse—we proudly present this gorgeous pocket guide.

The perfect way to celebrate? Throwing a killer party, with a special happy hour just for our Kickstarter backers. After that, everyone’s invited.  And you won’t want to miss clunker roller racing (beer for the winners!), tunes from DJ Roxie Stardust, and free nibbles from Cheese Bar, Saraveza, Olympic Provisions, Hair of the Dog, Soup Cycle Grand Central Bakery and Tula Gluten Free Bakery Cafe.

And, yes, there will be beer, and it will be served from the world famous Metrofiets Beer Bike. Expect ales from Deschutes, Widmer, Hopworks and more. Plus beer cocktails by Jacob Grier.

With every purchase of Hop in the Saddle, you’ll get a free beer ticket!

We hope you’ll join us in celebrating some of our favorite things: beer, bicycles, community, indie publishing and getting it done.

Click here for the invite and RSVP >

When:
Thursday, November 15
6-7pm Kickstarter Backer Happy Hour
7-9pm Launch Party

Where:
Velocult (1969 NE 42nd)

Sorry, wine, I know you have always been the one I sought after…and the one I chose.

But it’s been a long hot summer, and beer is so cold and tingly. Mostly I’m talking IPAs that backhand slap you with bitter hops flavors then tickle you with floral herbaciousness. Then there are those delicate seasonal saisons I keep sipping at backyard barbecues.

Just try to spend a summer writing and editing about the incredibly vibrant craft beer scene in Portland and not be seduced by pint after pint of cool brew. For me, Lucy Burningham’s vivid beer writing was like Danielle Steele novels must have been for so many lonely women. It’s no surprise that at the end of the work day, her (Lucy’s not Danielle’s) words sent me barging through my front door, tripping over the dog, to get to whatever beer was waiting in my fridge.

My role in Hop in the Saddle was to be the straight up bicycle expert. But something happened along the way. I fell in love. Disgustingly. Like icky teenager-style infatuation mixed with deep-dip-kiss, become-my-life 20-something swooning. It’s so bad. I mean good. Pour me another.