(Published at LouisvilleBeer.com on March 31, 2014)
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My shoes are filled with Volga mud: (1) A tale of a fateful trip.
A 1999 travelogue in three parts.
March 31: (1) A tale of a fateful trip.
April 7: (2) The future is the past.
April 14: (3) Beer hunters lurking nearby.
(1) A tale of a fateful trip.
I knew we were in trouble from the moment the weather-beaten boat came into view. It had been hired by Allan Gamborg to take us out into the expanse of water that he swore was a river, but looked to me like a vast inland ocean.
A handful of pasty male natives in flowery swimming trunks eyed us with curiosity from behind their reeking cigarette stubs. There was an odor of gasoline in the air … or was it vodka?
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