Batch #143 ~ Backyard Hops Pale Ale

The OTHER wild hops I have used before, located in a different part of the valley, was the source for a bit of rhizome (root) I transplanted a few years ago, to my back yard.  It took a couple of Summers to get established in a shady part of my garden, but this year I saw that it was starting off strong.  I gave it an old sunflower stalk to climb on, which it used to nearly reach a branch of Maude, my apricot tree.  With just a wee boost from me, it finally reached the branch, and quickly spread itself out on this high, sunny perch.  This Winter, when I'm giving Maude an annual pruning, I'll fashion this area of branches toward becoming an annual solar collector frame for the hops, for which I'll drop a rope.
I didn't harvest enough hops from this vine alone to make a 10-gallon fresh hops ale, so I floated some dried Columbus and Amarillo hops first, and stirred in the Backyard hops for just the last 10 minutes of the boil, just enough to make its flavor perch on top of your palate.
Finally, have a peek at the label to find the latest human engineering marvel, the Rosetta spacecraft and its comet lander, Philae.  Rock on, European Space Agency!
Salute!
MT

Batch #142 ~ Fresh Hops Pale Ale

This may become an annual tradition for me, an early morning, late Summer bike ride with backpack or panniers, accompanied by someone dear, to my not-so-secret wild-hops vine.  By the time the sun is up, we have harvested a few pounds of fresh hops flowers, packed them up and we're riding home, without having seen a single person.  By mid-morning, with a cup of hot coffee at my side, the grain mash is underway, and by noon, several bags of fresh hops have been layered into the boiling brew, giving it a composition of beginning flavors, for the yeast to color over time.
I don't know what variety my wild yeast is, but I do know it is low on the alpha-acid scale.  It has a mild bitterness, but an intense floral character.  Using heavy amounts of this hops ~ alone ~ in a 7% pale ale, results in a flavour palate more like shoving your face in a bridal bouquet, than having your cheeks caved in with the bitterness of an IPA.
It lives in a semi wild place, along a riverbank, fairly far from the ranch where it probably originated, during the settler era, a century ago.  Rhizomes wander over time, and my harvesting habit will surely begin to chase this flower further along the riverbank, away from me, the ale predator.

Cheers!
MT