Asleep upon the wheat heap the loa awakens, dusts off, and mounts his horse destined to the ritual space where it’s unclear if we’re hopping the IPA or the IPA is hopping us. The single hop alchemy forges its own road and all we can do is stand observant in the absolute hoppy of it all and pay our penance to the hoppy ones. So, swirl, sip, enjoy, repeat. Chop beer, carry beer. Notes of peach rings, light orange zest, and mango with tangeriney center.