With summer approaching, I had become obsessed with determining the ultimate micro-brew beach beer to accompany me on my hot weather excursions. As the weather around Chicago was not particularly conducive to research of this type, I prepared to head south. Consultation with a map resulted in a determination that the job ahead might best be accomplished at Port Aransas, an obscure fishing town on the Texas Gulf Coast, where my research could be conducted in the quiet solitude required (the presence of a significant sea trout/red drum fishery figured into the decision, but is not particularly germane to the present discussion). Travel arrangements were subsequently made. I reproduce my admittedly very subjective field notes for those who might chose to use them as a guide for their own, similar studies:

Arriving in San Antonio in late April, I pick up my car and, expecting that beer selections on the far reaches of the Texas Gulf Coast might be somewhat limited, begin to canvas the local grocery and liquor stores for interesting micro-brews. After several stops, the woman I travel with begins to express some consternation over the growing rainbow of six packs and bombers that is rapidly filling up the car. Remembering that she is under the impression that this trip was intended to be a fun-filled vacation, I decide that disabusing her of this and revealing the true nature of the trip would be imprudent at this point. However, I do cut short additional beer procurement and head south.

Arriving in Port Aransas that evening, I make myself at home with a number of beers brewed at the Yellow Rose Brewery in San Antonio, a Vigilante porter, Honcho Grande brown ale, and Cactus Queen IPA; all very good, especially the porter. Yellow Rose is somewhat unusual in that they distribute their beer in 16 oz long necks, sold as singles. These particular beers, although very good, were consumed 'off-beach' as I had judged them to be inappropriate for beach consumption.

My research begins in earnest as the day dawns hot and sunny with a mild breeze blowing off the Gulf. I fill my cooler with an array of wheat beers, slather on some sunscreen, and hit the beach. The woman I travel with follows, eyeing the heavily laden cooler with some suspicion. Arriving at the beach, I find an immediate glitch in my plan. A sign advises that no glass containers are allowed and the frequent drive-byes by the Port Aransas constabulary suggests that flaunting this prohibition might be ill-advised. A moment of panic ensues as I contemplate not just my cooler, but the refrigerator full of illict glass containers back at the room. However, I am on a mission, and a trip to the local IGA soon produces an innocous insulated plastic container suitable for beach use; not ideal, but this is field work after all.

Returning to the beach, I set to work. Six hours later, having received a mild sunburn for my troubles, I conclude that Celis White and Celis Raspberry are the clear favorites for beach conditions; the mild acidity of both of these beers being especially refreshing. Yellow Rose's Bubba Dog Wheat and Pete's Wicked Honey Wheat are close seconds behind the two Celis beers with Red Hook's Hefeweizen ending the list.

I set out to confirm my results from the previous day. Loading the cooler with the two Celis beers examined yesterday, I add the Celis Grand Cru and a few bottles of Pete's Wicked Summer Brew. Arriving at the beach, I find that the weather was similar to yesterday, but that the wind has picked substantially. I set up my beach chair and towel (with some difficulty in the veritable gale coming off the Gulf) and help the woman I travel with with hers. Reaching into the cooler, Pete's Summer Brew emerges and I drink it as I wade into the book I had brought along. The somewhat subtle lemon flavor of this pale ale proves to be an excellent addition to my beach beer repertoire. The Pete's is followed by the two Celis beers, my opinion from yesterday confirmed even though the experience is somewhat marred by the now ubiquitous presence of wind-blown sand in everything, but I soldier on and try the Celis Grand Cru. This last seems a bit high in alcohol for beach consumption and I am forced to take a break from my research. A walk down the beach and a short nap later finds the sun setting behind the dunes; a fact I celebrate with a Pecan St. Lager from the Old City Brewing Co. of Austin. The Pecan St. is a fair brew, but as it was not consumed in the heat of the day, I decide to withhold judgement until a more controlled experiment could be attempted.

I am forced to abort further research by the arrival of rain and high winds. In the now unwelcome refuge of my borrowed condominium, I spend the day in the somewhat desultory consumption of beers judged to be too full bodied for the beach. Again, the Yellow Rose Brewery's porter and brown ale hold me in good stead and I am grateful for my own prescience in including them in my now dwindling stockpile. The woman I travel with admonishes me to do something about the growing collection of empties in the room. I mumble something about Louis Pasteur's wife never complaining about his leaving anthrax cultures around, but, nevertheless, find a garbage bag and deposit my empties.

The sun returns. I pack my mobile laboratory (which the woman I travel with continues to insist on calling a cooler) with a random collection of lagers and return to the beach and my research. A interesting collection, the aforementioned Pecan Street, Stoudt's Golden Lager, Frio Lager from the Frio Brewing Co. of San Antonio, and Kosmos Reserve Lager from the Spoetzl Brewery, better know for its Shiner Bock. The one oddball is a bottle for Red Hook's ESB, thrown into the cooler just because. We arrive at the beach and find ourselves alone, with the exception of a crew cleaning up the remnants of an oil spill. Sensing some uncertainty in the woman I travel with, I direct her down the beach away from the work crew, explaining that this is probably a result of a natural tar sand eruption. She does not appear to believe this either, but nonetheless settles into a tar free spot. Eight hours of experimentation and solar energy ray collection later, the Frio Lager has emerged as the clear favorite with Kosmos Reserve being a close second, both having pleasant toasted malt overtones which strike me as pleasant in the hot sun. A surprising third was the ESB, which not being particularly bitter went down very well in the warm beach environs.

......I don't know how much longer I can continue my research. The days have been reduced to a mind-numbing monotony of sun, sand, and beer. My field notes, I find, have degenerated to a random collection of scratchings and doodles. The dwindling mid-week crowds and the consequential reduced police presence has emboldened me to flaunt the glass container prohibition, and I find myself surrounded by a veritable stockade of longnecks; the woman I travel with having moved off to distance herself from the increasingly disgusting spectacle. With the sun setting over the dunes, I collect my empties, deposit them in a now substantially lighter cooler, I mean, mobile laboratory, and return to the condo to decipher my field notes. In spite of the beer stains and increasingly primitive penmanship, I am able to discern a few intellligible observations: The Celis White and Raspberry beers while initially excellent prove to be somewhat cloying after the second bottle, Pete's Wicked Summer Brew, a much drier ale with its hint of lemon, emerges as my favorite for the full immersion consumption sometimes required in hot summer beach environs. The Frio and Kosmos now come in close second , behind the Pete's.

Several additional days of research for which notes are mysteriously unavailable do nothing to alter my earlier conclusions. Pete's Summer Brew is my choice for a six-pack tossed in the cooler on the way to the beach with any of the lagers I tried being acceptable, if less pleasant substitutes. Either the Celis White or Raspberry beers would be my choice to follow-up to a lawn mowing session. An additional observation would be that any of the Yellow Rose beers would be worth a try for anyone in the San Antonio area.