OLD VSOP
The Old VSOP
I spent $45.00 on a bottle of Cognac of moderate quality today because I've been craving that nectar of the gods for some time. A couple of weeks ago, while on vacation, I almost bought a bottle to take with me on an overnight camping trip but thought better of it because I could easily envision arriving at said camping spot three sheets to the wind and struggling to set up camp. Plus, Cognac is meant to sip in a subtle manner and the mood I was in at the time necessitated swilling. I bought beer instead.
For the camping trip, we were blessed with the privilege of having Rob and his lovely wife, Kim, accompany us. We took the back way into an area called Blue Bunch, kept going to Four Corners, hung a left, and followed Red Ridge Road for a few miles until we found an old logging road. Most of the excursion was of the "Four-low and crawl" variety.
We pulled down the logging road and set up camp right in the middle of the road. It'd been so long since it was last used that it was covered in a nice blanket of grass and afforded a great view of the North Fork of The Payette River in the valley below. Right away, Rob and Kim, in a semi-drunken stupor, began to set up camp.
You'll notice that the LoboKid is trying to help them out a little bit.
When I got the truck turned around, I set to putting up out tent as well. Of course the LoboKid gave me a hand; or foot, as it were.
After everything was all good to go, the LoboBabe and LoboKid stood still long enough for a photo-op.
After camp was set up, we got a nice little fire going and started cooking the evening's meal which consisted of chicken, beef, potatoes, and beer for Rob and me, and wine for Kim and the LoboBabe. The LoboKid settled for water and orange juice.
The LoboKid enjoyed the hell out of running around the countryside and run he did. The whole time, however, I kept a close eye on him. The week before, a guy I grew up with named Rich and his wife celebrated their anniversary by camping in this very area. During the night, as they lay on their sleeping bags enjoying the view of the night-sky that can only be seen in a wilderness setting, Rich heard/felt something that didn't seem quite right. He tried to ignore it, but better sense took hold and he sat up. Not more than a few feet from him and his wife was a cougar, flat on the ground, ass wiggling in pounce mode, and ready to strike. Poor Rich, scared half out of his wits, jumped up, took hold of his pistol-a little semi-auto .22-and shot a couple of rounds in the general direction of the beast. During the commotion, he noticed another cougar not far away, hunched in the brush. After a few rounds, both animals ran away into the night, but Rich and his wife probably had a fitful sleep the rest of the night.
Anyway, because of that event, I kept a close eye on the LoboKid and had the firearm at the ready. If some oversized house-cat decided to intrude on our little soiree, I was going to have a thing or two to say about it. As it were, no critter made an appearance except for the pine squirrel that, the next morning, chattered up a storm and insisted on throwing pinecones at the tents. The little bastard. There are few forest creatures as territorial as a pine squirrel.
So, I didn't buy the Cognac then and, instead, held off until yesterday. I'm sipping some now as I type this little adventure.
Which brings me back 'round to the beginning of this post. While meandering through the liquor store in wide-eyed wonder not unlike that of a kid in a candy store, I've seen a particular brand of Cognac that claims to have been poured into oak barrels and sent on a "around the world" voyage whilst sloshing around and aging. Apparently, the nectar ages for the time it takes to make this voyage. It's quite pricy stuff, but I wonder if it's worth it.
Is it worth it?
I spent $45.00 on a bottle of Cognac of moderate quality today because I've been craving that nectar of the gods for some time. A couple of weeks ago, while on vacation, I almost bought a bottle to take with me on an overnight camping trip but thought better of it because I could easily envision arriving at said camping spot three sheets to the wind and struggling to set up camp. Plus, Cognac is meant to sip in a subtle manner and the mood I was in at the time necessitated swilling. I bought beer instead.
For the camping trip, we were blessed with the privilege of having Rob and his lovely wife, Kim, accompany us. We took the back way into an area called Blue Bunch, kept going to Four Corners, hung a left, and followed Red Ridge Road for a few miles until we found an old logging road. Most of the excursion was of the "Four-low and crawl" variety.
We pulled down the logging road and set up camp right in the middle of the road. It'd been so long since it was last used that it was covered in a nice blanket of grass and afforded a great view of the North Fork of The Payette River in the valley below. Right away, Rob and Kim, in a semi-drunken stupor, began to set up camp.
You'll notice that the LoboKid is trying to help them out a little bit.
When I got the truck turned around, I set to putting up out tent as well. Of course the LoboKid gave me a hand; or foot, as it were.
After everything was all good to go, the LoboBabe and LoboKid stood still long enough for a photo-op.
After camp was set up, we got a nice little fire going and started cooking the evening's meal which consisted of chicken, beef, potatoes, and beer for Rob and me, and wine for Kim and the LoboBabe. The LoboKid settled for water and orange juice.
The LoboKid enjoyed the hell out of running around the countryside and run he did. The whole time, however, I kept a close eye on him. The week before, a guy I grew up with named Rich and his wife celebrated their anniversary by camping in this very area. During the night, as they lay on their sleeping bags enjoying the view of the night-sky that can only be seen in a wilderness setting, Rich heard/felt something that didn't seem quite right. He tried to ignore it, but better sense took hold and he sat up. Not more than a few feet from him and his wife was a cougar, flat on the ground, ass wiggling in pounce mode, and ready to strike. Poor Rich, scared half out of his wits, jumped up, took hold of his pistol-a little semi-auto .22-and shot a couple of rounds in the general direction of the beast. During the commotion, he noticed another cougar not far away, hunched in the brush. After a few rounds, both animals ran away into the night, but Rich and his wife probably had a fitful sleep the rest of the night.
Anyway, because of that event, I kept a close eye on the LoboKid and had the firearm at the ready. If some oversized house-cat decided to intrude on our little soiree, I was going to have a thing or two to say about it. As it were, no critter made an appearance except for the pine squirrel that, the next morning, chattered up a storm and insisted on throwing pinecones at the tents. The little bastard. There are few forest creatures as territorial as a pine squirrel.
So, I didn't buy the Cognac then and, instead, held off until yesterday. I'm sipping some now as I type this little adventure.
Which brings me back 'round to the beginning of this post. While meandering through the liquor store in wide-eyed wonder not unlike that of a kid in a candy store, I've seen a particular brand of Cognac that claims to have been poured into oak barrels and sent on a "around the world" voyage whilst sloshing around and aging. Apparently, the nectar ages for the time it takes to make this voyage. It's quite pricy stuff, but I wonder if it's worth it.
Is it worth it?
posted by alexsakne at 5:13 AM
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