BetterBeerBlog

I was enjoying a beer at a “Beer Depletion” get-together when Pete Slosberg turns my way to ask me a question, “Do you want to take a day off work to help us bottle at Russian River?”

“Umm… Hell-to-the-YES!” (Not my exact words but the sentiment was there.)

And that’s how I got invited to bottle Consecration, an ale aged in Cabernet-Sauvignon barrels with currants.

I leave my house at 5:30am in order to make it to Russian River by 8am. I ride with Arie, Pete and Dave. Despite having only 3-4 hours sleep the night before, I am excited to be going up to Russian River. Up until that morning, I had no idea we were going to be bottling Consecration. I was also under the assumption that we would be bottling the larger 750mL bottles but I was told we’d be bottling the smaller 375mL bottles instead. In talking to Vinnie later on in the day, the decision to move to the smaller bottles was more out of necessity than anything else. If I remember correctly, they couldn’t source the larger bottles any more. No U.S. based bottle manufacturer was interested in doing a custom run for just them so Russian River had to go out of the country to get these done. As reported by Jay Brooks, Lost Abbey and North Coast Brewing have gone in with Russian River to get these bottles made. They’re pretty cute, actually, resembling the 750mL bottles… just mini.

To be clear, Russian River does have an automated bottling line. The reason they bottle Consecration manually is because of all the little critters used to make it. Vinnie doesn’t want to risk contaminating his automated bottling line so it’d done manually. From what I heard, they will have an automated corker and cager on order, thus rendering my bottling services obsolete. Knowing this, I am even more grateful to have volunteered my time.

I have been drafted to run the bottle filling machine. The filling machine is gravity fed. You attach a bottle to one of the 6 filling nozzles below and in goes beer. It will stop automatically once it reaches the predetermined fill level. I likened this contraption to a mechanical cow from which I would be bottling the mother’s milk known as Consecration directly from its teats. In hindsight, I regret not taking a photo of me suckling from the teats of mechanical mother.

Basically the flow goes like this: I line up bottles below the filling machine, about 18 can fit under there. I put a bottle on each nozzle and then pull them off once they’re full, replacing them with one of the empties I set up prior. The filled bottles then go to Arie who corks them with another machine. Pete then takes the corked bottles and puts the cages on and fills up cases. Dave will then seal each case, stack them, refill corks for Arie and cages for Pete all while suppling the label machine with empty, bottles he has had to purge O2 out of with CO2.

Rinse. Lather Repeat… times 12.5 BBLs of beer.

Oh. My. God. By the end of the day, my entire body hurt. My back was stiff, the arches on my feet sore, my core sore from the constant twisting motion. My shoulders were in pain from the nearly endless repetition of lifting bottles one after another after another after another. My hands hurt from constantly gripping bottles and the teats of what I learned to be a cruel and uncaring metal mother. This was a painful day. At one point, I think my left shoulder went numb. It was the lucky one. I haven’t hurt this bad physically since… I don’t remember when I’ve hurt this bad from a job… ever. Running the bottling line is more physically demanding than anything else. The repetition of movement allows for muscle memory to set in and soon I was on cruise control, in the zone, so-to-speak. My mind was able to wander freely, when it wasn’t thinking of how much the rest of my body hurt.

Consecration is a barrel aged beer. This means that Vinnie and crew had to move the barrels from wherever they were, as I didn’t see them where we were working, lift them up on a forklift and use gravity to fill a tank where the beer is mixed with priming sugar and fresh yeast needed to bottle condition the beer. The tank we were filling from became our Nemesis. There was this sight gauge at the side of the tank letting us know how much beer was left. It was best not to look at the gauge because it never seemed to move. When you take on 12.5 BBLs of beer 375mL at a time, things will move slowly. Very, slowly. Adding. A. Period. After. Each. Word. For. Dramatic. Literary. Effect. Slowly.

The enthusiasm I displayed at the beginning of my shift quickly gave way to loathing. What started of as, “Fuck yeah! I’m working at Russian River!” transitioned to “Fuck me! I’m working at Russian River”. I grew to hate the sound of Dave purging O2 from empties with CO2 because it meant we weren’t done yet. The teats of metal mother, which looked so inviting in the morning now mocked me with their cold, metallic indifference. Every so often a bottle wouldn’t seal properly on the rubberized portion of the nozzle and beer would gush forth. The slow hiss of leaking beer sounded a lot like, “Fool! You thought you could tame me and bottle my goodness without incident?! Hiss! You know nothing of goodness! Muhahahahaha!”

At the end of the day, despite all the aches and pains, I would jump at the chance to do this all over again. No question, no hesitation. If I get the call to jump, I ask, “How high?”

As a craft beer enthusiast, I have a great deal of respect and admiration for the brewers that brew up my favorite beers. Knowing what I know about the brewing process, there is so much that can go wrong at any given time; to see a brewery not only brew up something spectacular, but to do so consistently year after year, case after case, bottle after bottle is amazing.

So it’s no wonder then, when I meet my favorite brewers, that I get a little starstruck. Even after going on dozens of brewery tours, I still get excited when offered to go on a brewery tour. There’s a real romanticization I have with professional brewers, and their breweries by extension. As an “outsider looking in”, I’ve always wondered what it would be like working for my favorite breweries. I can now tell you, from recent personal experience, it’s not all I thought it would be.

Experiencing a day in the life as a Russian River employee has pretty much wiped any romantic notions I may have had with the brewing industry. Those big, shiny, steel fermentors still shine brightly but I now notice their scratches and dents. The aroma of hops in the air? Still intoxicating but their constant presence in the air renders them almost mundane. The fantasy has become a reality; the dream job is now just a job.

It’s easy to wax poetic about my favorite beers, brewers and brewery from the safety of my desk. This is the fun part of the job, the drinking, the reviewing, the writing. It’s not until you’ve bottled hundreds of beers or hauled 50-lbs sacks of grain or pulled a 16-hour brew day do you realize just how much goes into the beer you are drinking. At least Vinny has a team of people helping him. I have a newfound respect for small brewing operations, even more so for the single guys like Mayfield Brewing Company who not only barrel age everything but bottle it all as well. I bitch like a little girl after one day of work and these guys do this day-in, day-out like it’s nothing.

What’s the written form of a standing ovation because, from this point forward, I think every brewer should get one.

I’ve taken a look behind the curtain, I’ve seen how the magic trick works. And you know what? I appreciate craft beer even more. I didn’t think I could but I do. The next time I stroll down the craft beer aisle at my local BevMo, I will look at all those bottles and hope all those breweries have automated bottling lines.

So the next time you see a 375mL bottle of Consecration, look for Batch 004X2. That’s the one we worked on. Look at the cage as well. The twisted part should be facing upwards. Russian River guys usually face them downwards. Open that bottle up, pour yourself a glass and take in a huge whiff of the aroma. Savor it. Close your eyes. Take a sip. Let the flavors dance around your tongue before swallowing. Take your time before opening your eyes. Let it sink into your head that there’s now a little piece of me, in you. Cheers!

This entry was posted on Thursday, February 4th, 2010 at 2:00 pm and is filed under Breweries, Craft Beer. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.