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Thompson loved the area outside of town, too, which he first visited in 1961. While Aspen itself was (and still is) full of private jets and Hollywood types, Thompson’s chosen corner of the woods, Woody Creek, was and is a lot grittier. “He could walk naked on the porch of his mountain house, take a leak off the porch into a blue toilet bowl with a palm tree growing out of it, and squeeze off a few .44 slugs at some gongs mounted on the hillside. He could chew mescaline and turn the stereo up to 100 decibels without pissing off the neighbors,” writes Paul Perry in his book, Fear and Loathing: The Strange and Terrible Saga of Hunter S. Thompson. Fans of the writer (who coined another personal favorite, “When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro”) will deeply enjoy making this pilgrimage, deeper into Gonzo territory.

The Woody Creek Tavern, founded in 1980 by theoretical physicist, spark-plug fortune heir, and longtime HST neighbor George Stranahan, resides up a curling canyon road about eight miles outside the town of Woody Creek. There’s not much to see besides; as a local bumper sticker puts it, Woody Creek consists of “a bump, two dips, and a rumble strip.” No matter; not only is this glorious dive Thompson’s most celebrated watering hole (and a shrine with innumerable photos and tributes adorning its walls), it’s also a business intertwined with Colorado craft beer history and even a thread of statewide politics.

Stranahan, a tireless entrepreneur, opened Aspen’s first new brewery in a century in 1991, naming it the Flying Dog after a piece of folk art he’d seen on a wild-haired trek to the Baltoro Glacier in Pakistan. By 1994, the business was booming, so he moved operations to Denver and installed a 50 bbl brewing system (a.k.a. brewhouse), collaborating on a bottling plant with John Hickenlooper (Hickenlooper, creator of Wynkoop’s Railyard Ale, would go on to become mayor of Denver, and then governor of Colorado in early 2011).

Flying Dog is now based in Maryland, but the Woody Creek Tavern, festooned with American flags, prized by the locals (the “Woody Creatures”), and flanked by a trailer park, isn’t going anywhere. With its walls shimmering with thousands of Polaroids and margaritas as strong as mescaline, nor will you.

Ouray

OURAY

BREWERY

607 Main St. • Ouray, CO 81427

(970) 325-7388 • ouraybrewery.com • Established: 2010

SCENE & STORY

In a town built at elevation of 7,800 feet and ringed by peaks so high its long been touted as the Switzerland of America (population: 900), it’s fitting that the Ouray Brewery feels like a vertical affair, with a ground floor taproom leading up to a brewery and dining room mezzanine, and finally a stunning rooftop deck from which to view a cathedral of soaring 14ers (14,000-foot peaks) including Hayden and Whitehouse Peaks. The taproom has a modernized mountain house feel, with exposed beams, track lighting, and a row of heavyweight bar swings hanging from the ceiling. Once a trinket shop and home of a local newspaper, The Ouray Plaindealer, 607 Main is now one of the most bustling watering holes in Ouray.

But it’s not just beer: founder Erin Eddy also organizes the annual Ouray Ice Festival, a world-famous ice climbing weekend held every January in the Ouray Ice Park, a daredevil’s playground formed each winter when the city runs gushers of water into Uncompahgre Gorge that promptly freeze in place. More than 3,000 alpinists, gear heads, and assorted outdoor mavens pile into town to watch and compete in climbing competitions. After climbing hundred-foot spires of ice or tightrope walking the gorge on a nylon slack line, you can imagine one might develop a bit of thirst; so it’s a good thing there’s plenty of local beer.

PHILOSOPHY

Eddy’s m.o. is straightforward. “Consistency is the philosophy I’m trying to follow. Same four beers on tap at all times. Never run out of beer. Never run out of food. Never give bad service. Hire the best people, and make sure they follow the vision