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Cocktail 1: The Raven

October 1, 2025September 21, 2025 steveboilard3 Comments

“Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—

“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

The Tale

“The Raven” is of course one of Poe’s most famous works. As we all know, it is an 18-stanza poem written in trochaic octameter. This poem has got it all: a tragic love story (“the lost Lenore”), references to Greek mythology (“bust of Pallas”), alliteration (“the silken, sad, uncertain rustling”), and a mystical talking raven (“Nevermore!”). It’s hypnotizing, moody, mysterious, and yet lyrical. It is a masterpiece.

Therefore it’s not surprising that, after its publication in January 1845, Poe became famous throughout the land. And yet, he was only paid $9 by The American Review, which published the poem. Once upon a midnight dreary, indeed.

This poem is so well-known and euphonious that it has spurred innumerable parodies and burlesques. Lisa Simpson’s version on The Simpsons is especially worthy, and yet I will always remember when I was first introduced to “The Raven” in a Bullwinkle cartoon in the 1960s.

The full poem is available here.

The Drink

Probably all the “ravens” you and I think we’ve ever seen are actually crows. Ravens are bigger, with distinctive beaks and tails. But does it really matter? They’re both big, black birds. And that’s the look we’re going for with this drink.

So I got me some Van Gogh Double Espresso vodka. It’s a surprisingly tasty liquor on its own, particularly suited for those of us who like our depressants delivered with stimulants. This vodka has two things going for it: (1) it has a dark color, evocative of a raven (or a crow). To be honest, it’s not quite black; rather, it’s a dark brown. But we have a black cat (Vincent) who, as he’s aged, has taken on a somewhat brown cast. So maybe dark brown in the ballpark of black? (2) It’s said that Van Gogh was an avid and enthusiastic reader of Poe. It’s further said that his “intensive reading of Poe’s works helped him to process and internalize his thoughts and emotions, which then manifested in his art.” I take all this as confirmation that the Van Gogh vodka would make a great starting point for this drink. Let’s get to work!

Ingredients:

1-1/2 oz. Van Gogh Double Espresso vodka

½ oz. Kahlua

¼ oz. mezcal (the smokier the better)

1 shot espresso

A couple of pinches of edible black glitter

Black feather (for garnish)

The bottle of Van Gogh already has a syrupy sweetness to it, even though it’s marketed as a vodka. So, this will have to be counterbalanced with something to keep it out of the land of the cloying. For this, I added a shot of straight espresso for its bitterness and roastiness, and a little bit of mezcal for its earthy, smoky flavor. Truth be told, I found this formulation to be a bit too harsh, so I then added a little Kahlua to take the edge off. This seems to be the sweet spot.

So far, the drink presents a dark brown color. But to make it more raven-y, I added two pinches of edible black glitter. This gives it a deeper black color and that shimmery, sparkly gloss that ravens are so well known for. Not.

But as if that doesn’t drive home the point strongly enough, we’re going to add a black feather–a “black plume as a token of that lie thy soul has spoken.” Simply proceed thus:

Remove a single black feather from a nearby raven (or, in a pinch, a crow will do). Alternatively, you can go to your nearest craft store. Place this feather point-down in a small glass with about an inch of water, and stick it in the freezer. You may need to use some tape to keep the feather upright. This is going to serve as your ice cube/garnish.
Make yourself a shot of espresso, and put it in the fridge to cool for a few minutes.
In a mixing glass, combine the vodka, Kahlua, mezcal, and espresso with ice. Stir, and strain into a bar glass of your choice.
Add a few pinches of the black glitter, and stir.
Finish it off by adding the ice cube/feather. (You may have to briefly warm it in the microwave to loosen the ice from the glass.)
Will you ever go back to your old Dark N Stormy? Nevermore!

Poe-Script

It is said that Poe gained inspiration for this poem from Dickens’ Barnaby Rudge, which featured a talking raven. The non-Philistines among you who regularly read my blog (waytrips.travel.blog) know that Dickens himself had a pet raven named ‘Grip.” In fact, Grip became such a part of the public imagination in Dickens’ day that people would say “Get a Grip!” to convey that someone should ground themselves in reality, rather than stories.

(I totally fabricated that last assertion.)

Poe-Tober is Upon Us

September 30, 2025September 29, 2025 steveboilard2 Comments

*Cover image from my forthcoming Edgar Allan Poe cocktail book. I’m not making this up.*

Well, here we are–on the cusp of another October with its promise of spooky decorations, pumpkin beer, and, ultimately, All Hallow’s Eve. And you know what that means: it’s the month that I turn over this blog to 31 days of Halloween-related content. In past years we’ve had reviews of Halloween snacks, Halloween candy, Frankenstein movies, my own serialized horror story, and other thematic content.

This is truly a magical season, as the weather (at least in my neck of the woods) changes from hot and dry to cool and misty. The days shorten, the sun hangs lower on the horizon, and wood smoke fills the air. The hub, not to mention the bub, of the so-called Winter Holidays is (barely) held in abeyance while we make this transition into fall. It’s my favorite time of year. And that’s why this blog celebrates the season through the whole month of October.

So, what’s on tap for this year’s October blog? I’m glad you asked. Beginning tomorrow, we’re going to present 31 Edgar Allan Poe tales, each paired with a bespoke cocktail related to the story. In each post I’ll give you a short excerpt from Poe’s original tale, a synopsis of the plot, a recipe for making the cocktail, and a “Poe-script” with some related trivia. I’ll even provide a link to the full text, just in case you’re such a Rube that you don’t already own a compendium of Poe’s works. This way, you can read the tale while sipping on your specialty cocktail.

One word of warning: I am not a trained mixologist. In fact, I’m pretty much groping in the dark with these recipes. All I can say is that I’ve created, tested, and refined each one until it is deemed drinkable…by me. (By way of full disclosure I should admit that most if not all of these drinks have earned a thumbs down by my wife. But she likes neither whiskey nor gin, so clearly her credibility in these matters is lacking.)

So, starting tomorrow, I invite you to spend the month enjoying my curated list of 31 Poe stories along with their associated, custom cocktails. As always, I welcome your thoughts, reactions, and hangover nostrums. If you’re not already subscribed to this blog, you can sign up below. And if you are already subscribed, spread the word! Make all your friends’ October Poe-tastic!

Uncategorized

Mike the Headless Chicken

September 6, 2025 steveboilard3 Comments

The other week I shared a blog post about the town of Fruita, Colorado–a town that is “famous” for, among other things, its Mike the Headless Chicken Festival. Faithful reader Brian W informed me that his brother-in-law Timothy has written and performed a song about Mike at the festival. (How come my relatives don’t have credits like that to their name?) In the 1980s Timothy made records as Timothy P and the Rural Route Three, whose music has been described as “a blend of country, honky-tonk, and hippie rock styles.” A Facebook page suggests he’s still in the business. Sadly, I haven’t been able to find an actual recording of his Headless Chicken song.

This got me interested in discovering what kind of a song one could write about this Headless Chicken. And I discovered that it’s a somewhat popular subgenre on YouTube. Here are a few examples for your entertainment and/or edification:

Best visuals, but lousy music (IMO).

Best (i.e. only) live performance I could find.

Best lyrics and production values…but no video.

Feel free to write and record your own Mike the Headless Chicken song, and I’ll post it on this blog. Meanwhile, if you need inspiration, the following “children’s cartoon” about the story of Headless Mike is simultaneously informative and unsettling:

Breweries · bridges · California history · Cars · movie theaters · Road trips · Yard art

Been There, Done That, Got the T-Shirt

August 29, 2025 steveboilardLeave a comment

This morning I headed downstairs from my motel room to partake of the “free” breakfast. Then I spotted this sign in the breakfast room:

*But a “D” is technically passing right? At least that’s what I used to tell my parents when I brought home my report card.*

Instead of the motel breakfast, I got a gas-station coffee and donut. I then got onto the U-28 scenic byway, which carves its way through the Colorado River gorge towards Grand Junction. It was so spectacular it even made my donut taste good.

*That’s the muddy Colorado River on the left.*

*A perfect setting for a Western…which it has been, many times.*

After maybe half an hour of driving I came across a pedestrian suspension bridge that crosses the Colorado River. Attentive readers will recall that I’m a sucker for these things, so I looked for a place to pull over and sway my way across the (not-so-) mighty Colorado.

So imagine my disappointment when I discovered that the bridge’s decking was entirely missing.

*…but wait–what’s wrong with this picture?*

Turns out the Dewey Bridge (for that’s its name) was built in 1916 and is Utah’s longest suspension bridge. It was fully restored in 2000….and eight years later some kid was playing with matches and the whole thing went up in flames.

*Kids, don’t play with matches! (2008 photo from Wikipedia Commons.)*

A sad and ghostly air hangs about the skeleton of the Dewey Bridge. It set back my good mood a bit.

A little later I came to the town of Fruita, Colorado (pop: 13,400). I could live in this town. It’s one of those places that’s figured out how to preserve its history, cater to modern tastes, create a livable community, and attract tourists. The town is jammed with public art, and the main street has plenty of outdoor cafes and benches to relax, have a cup of coffee, and watch the world go by. It seems that most of the buildings along Main Street are historic and well-preserved or restored.

One public art installation that made me scratch my head was this rooster with no head:

A friendly fellow drinking coffee at an outdoor table noticed me photographing the sculpture and gave me the story of Mike the Headless Chicken. (Trigger warning for those sensitive about food preparation by carnivores.) It seems that in 1945, a local farmer by the name of Lloyd Olsen was attempting to behead one of his chickens for dinner. His aim was a little off, and most of the chicken’s brain stem remained with the body. The chicken survived his beheading, flapping his wings and running around headlessly. What was Lloyd to do? He spent the next year and a half carefully feeding Mike (for that was the chicken’s name) individual kernels of corn through the throat and addressing Mike’s thirst with milk and water from an eyedropper. Mike became a sideshow attraction and gained national fame. Indeed, I remember reading about Mike in a “Ripley’s Believe It Or Not” paperback in the 1960s. Fruita still remembers Mike with the sculpture, T-shirts and other souvenirs, and an annual “Mike the Headless Chicken Festival” each spring. I am not making this up.

Fruita also has a lot of non-headless-chicken art around town. In fact, I noticed that many of the towns in eastern Utah and western Colorado feature interesting public art installations. Here is a sampling:

*Sculpture honoring children’s music teacher David Carl Moore in Delta, Colorado.*

*Windrider Custom Cycles sculpture in Delta.*

*Sculpture at Dennis Weaver Memorial Park in Ridgway, Colorado. Dennis Weaver (I remember him as McCloud from the NBC television series) reportedly loved eagles and lived in Ridgway for many years.*

I also randomly ran into these women playing the tubular bells (?) xylophones(?) that are installed at the park. Somehow I think Dennis Weaver would have appreciated it.

*I’m not sure if it technically qualifies as art, but there is a large number of long-parked classic cars on both sides of the street in downtown Delta, Colorado.*

Also related to this theme of public art is the 1928 Egyptian Theater in Delta. It’s obviously been loving restored, and it regularly shows movies and hosts performances. It’s much smaller than the Egyptian Theater in Hollywood, but it similarly reflects the fascination with all things Egyptian in that era.

But let’s get back to the purpose of today, which was to complete my trek to Placerville, Colorado. You’ll recall that the California version of Placerville was originally called Hangtown, and the tree where those hangings took place (in 1849) stood on Main Street for many years. Even though it was cut down in 1853, the stump remains in the basement of an old Main Street building, where a dummy perpetually hangs from a noose.

*Photo by the author, from my 2021 blog post about Placerville, CA.*

So it was auspicious that, just as I was getting close to Placerville, Colorado, I spotted this hangman’s tree in the town of Montrose:

*According to the sign, George Bikford was hanged from this tree for robbery and “horse stealin'” in 1878.*

And so, with that preface, I finally came to the storied town of Placerville, Colorado. Let’s just say it wasn’t exactly El Dorado.

*This is seriously about all there is to the town.*

Pretty much all that makes up Placerville is a post office, a general store, a storage facility, and a few houses. In the 1800s it was a mining boom town, but as with many boom towns, the mines dried up and the population went elsewhere. Later, the failure of the local Trout Lake Dam in 1909 wiped out most of what remained.

But be that as it may, I think we can declare this mission a success.

And (shockingly) I was even able to purchase Placerville merch at the general store!

*I was hoping for “My husband drove from Placerville to Placerville and all I got was this stupid T-shirt.”*

BREW OF THE DAY

We have a winner!

In the town of Ridgway, Colorado (pop: 1,300) I stopped in at the Floating Lotus Brewery. It’s a friendly, casual place with an airy atmosphere, two outdoor patios, a stage for live music, and a great view of the neighboring property where John Wayne filmed some scenes from True Grit. Owner/Brewmaster Kenny Conley hooked me up with his favorite beer: the Blastoplast IPA.

This was hands down the best beer I’ve had on this trip. Of course, that’s an admittedly low bar. But this is seriously a tasty brew. Unlike so many modern IPAs, this one is perfectly balanced. It’s not too hoppy, not to carbonated, not too pungent. At the same time, it’s flavorful and a bit “richer” than you’d expect from an IPA, without the astringent IPA afterburn you sometimes experience by the end of the glass. And at 6.3 percent ABV, I’d say the alcohol content is right where it should be. This is a five-star brew.

*Kenny at his post. If you ever find yourself in Ridgway, or even in the vicinity of Telluride, pay him a visit!*

Breweries · Road trips

Land of the Giants

August 28, 2025 steveboilard2 Comments

This morning I checked out of the Jailhouse Hotel early. I returned my hilariously-labeled “cell key” to the “warden” at the reception desk.

While I waited for the warden to finish processing my paperwork I glanced around the lobby and spotted this blast from the past:

*Is anyone old enough to remember these?*

Eventually I was liberated from the Jailhouse and back in my car. On my way out of Ely I spied a sign for the “Ward Charcoal Ovens.” It looked like a minor detour on a dirt road, so I followed the sign. I’m glad I did. After a few dusty miles I encountered a collection of enormous, well-preserved, 19th-century ovens that had been used for making charcoal. Standing about 30 feet high, these are gigantic, otherworldly artifacts in the middle of nowhere.

The ovens were used to transform pinion pine and juniper into charcoal, which in turn was used to fire the smelters that melted ore during Nevada’s silver rush in the 1870s. These ovens were only used for a few years until the silver ran out, yet they’ve been standing for about a century and a half. I was impressed by how well-preserved they are. Not a speck of graffiti, no trash on the ground, and virtually no damage to the stone. (A ranger I talked to informed me that there has been some minor restoration work done to the mortar.)

The ovens (which somehow seem a little creepy to me, even in broad daylight) were a product of the era, when physical challenges (like melting ore) were met with ever-larger infrastructure (bigger locomotives, larger dams, these enormous ovens), rather than, say, intricate technological advances. It’s simultaneously awe-inspiring and incredibly wasteful. About 6 acres of trees would have to be felled each time an oven was filled, and after only a couple of years all the trees in the area had been cut down.

*View from inside an oven. The top hole allows smoke to exit; the arched “window” on the side allows for the insertion of wood.*

So, these ovens were environmentally damaging and obsolete in a few short years. On the positive side, they produce a cool echo effect.

The ovens are also, um, titillating.

Speaking of racks, I came upon this impressive display at a butcher shop just outside Ely:

But to get back to the theme of “land of the giants,” I beheld these enormous soda cans at a gas station in Salina, UT. They actually contain diesel fuel, and so are not quite so unhealthy as you would guess from their labels.

And to round out the Giants theme, this gigantic watermelon slice was sitting in a parking lot in Green River, UT (pop: 850), for no discernible reason.

The watermelon slice is constructed entirely of wood, and a little Internet research reveals that it was built in the 1950s as a parade float of sorts. Remarkably, the watermelon is self-powered, with an engine hidden inside. I managed to sneak a photo through a small porthole (?).

Watermelons seem to figure prominently in the local agriculture, as I saw watermelon vendors set up in several parking lots.

But more interesting to me near Green River was a place called “Jackass Joe’s,” which is a combination gas station and purveyor of all manner of quirky and irreverent stuff. Their specialties seem to be T-shirts (with their own name on them), exotic jerky, and various styles of candy “poo.”

*Jackass Joe decorates in an unexplained alien theme.*

And yet, notwithstanding the fun factor of Jackass Joe’s and the various giant foodstuffs, by far the most impressive part of today’s journey was driving along I-70 through the San Rafael Swell and other geologic formations. It’s simply jaw-dropping. The craggy and stratified shapes are otherworldly, the colors are vivid and varied, and in keeping with our Land of the Giants theme, the scale is enormous. It was almost transformative to drive my little rental car along this narrow ribbon through these formations. Alas, I wasn’t able to take any photos, and more to the point, I realized my little iphone camera couldn’t possibly do the scene justice. So allow me to present a couple of photos taken from the Internet:

*Public domain photo from US Dept of Transportation, showing Interstate 70 snaking through the San Rafael Swell in central Utah.*

*“Swell” photo from Utah Chamber of Commerce.*

This section of Interstate 70 has been called an “engineering marvel,” as it twists over, through, and along these geologic formations, while attempting to minimize disruptions to the landscape. The construction process also unearthed various dinosaur fossils.

I’ve encamped for the night in Moab (pop: 5,400). Tomorrow we will finally arrive at Placerville, CO!

BREW OF THE DAY

The BOTD comes courtesy of Moab Brewery. They have a fairly extensive menu of their own beers. I let the server choose for me, with the only instruction being that “I don’t want a light beer.” She directed me toward the “Export Stout.” Unfortunately, it is not available on tap (i.e., bottle only), and the bottle holds 22 ounces. So this is a commitment.

Unfortunately, it’s a commitment that doesn’t pay off. I was hoping for a rich, thick, malty, high-gravity beer. What I got was something closer to bathwater.

OK, maybe it wasn’t that bad. But it was definitely thin in body, and it had no nose to speak of. It’s very carbonated–maybe over-carbonated. The flavor tastes of burned coffee (like when the pot has been sitting on the heating element at the truck stop for a few hours) and something slightly vegetative, like maybe moldy alfalfa. Deep in the back of your nasal passages you get a slight sense of Volatile Organic Compounds, reminiscent of Testor’s model glue. The finish reminds me of Crayola crayons.

I’m afraid I can only give it 1 star. But I’ll give four stars to the most excellent brewery pretzel that paired with it.