Upslope IPA Lolling yer head to the side like a comatose beauty pageant contestant, beady dribblets cascade off the treacherous fjords of yer mouthmeat. Yer anticipation revolves around the grand prize:  1 giant can of Upslope IPA. Whether you have to travel across the Rockies or to Scotland’s Western shore (Killy Kilmarnock!), a trusty, robusty and mountainous ale such as this is a worthy sidekick. When yer Scottish and trying to properly appreciate the Irish on their national holiday—consider the consequences: none. Be as Irish as you like. Those Gaels admire you and yer people’s hatred of the English rule. Always so, always shall be. Nothing spells defiance like the spilling of malt and hops into a throat. Especially in celebration of all things British—but not English. Careful now. On an ideal planet, pale grey slabs of granite would run wet with this Upslope nectar. Perhaps the Afternoon Session Mountains would contain a vast bounty of these canned delights. This IPA is a buzzer beating solution to the double screen, pick and roll, backdoor pass and SLAM of mating season and Spring. The madness of billy goats corralled and shock collared into a high punctuated and flavorful pen. A frenzied milling about with busted endposts and splinters caught in thick, purple goat lips.  Ending your desire for Upslope comes at a cost because a single taste won’t do. Proper consumption comes at the premium of 6/12/48 cans at a time amongst the jolliest of characters in your friendship circle. Bellow laughter in merriment and swallow large “sips” in the manner of a rockslide and all things Geologic. -Pedro Wooly

Upslope IPA

Lolling yer head to the side like a comatose beauty pageant contestant, beady dribblets cascade off the treacherous fjords of yer mouthmeat. Yer anticipation revolves around the grand prize:  1 giant can of Upslope IPA. Whether you have to travel across the Rockies or to Scotland’s Western shore (Killy Kilmarnock!), a trusty, robusty and mountainous ale such as this is a worthy sidekick.

When yer Scottish and trying to properly appreciate the Irish on their national holiday—consider the consequences: none. Be as Irish as you like. Those Gaels admire you and yer people’s hatred of the English rule. Always so, always shall be. Nothing spells defiance like the spilling of malt and hops into a throat. Especially in celebration of all things British—but not English. Careful now.

On an ideal planet, pale grey slabs of granite would run wet with this Upslope nectar. Perhaps the Afternoon Session Mountains would contain a vast bounty of these canned delights. This IPA is a buzzer beating solution to the double screen, pick and roll, backdoor pass and SLAM of mating season and Spring. The madness of billy goats corralled and shock collared into a high punctuated and flavorful pen. A frenzied milling about with busted endposts and splinters caught in thick, purple goat lips. 

Ending your desire for Upslope comes at a cost because a single taste won’t do. Proper consumption comes at the premium of 6/12/48 cans at a time amongst the jolliest of characters in your friendship circle. Bellow laughter in merriment and swallow large “sips” in the manner of a rockslide and all things Geologic.

-Pedro Wooly