It goes without saying that I’ve been really anticipating the final chapter in this delicious saga, the aptly named Shiner Commemorator (or Shiner 100), which was released in Dallas a few weeks after the New Year. After years of build up, I had (perhaps unreal) expectations of this beer being the absolute pinnacle of Texas beer-dom.

It is with profound sadness that I so write this judgement: Commemorator is a big let-down. I’m not going into the milieu used to “professionally” break down beer, but will describe some of my impressions. I found the first malty sip enjoyable, but with each successive drink there was a growing metallic, boozy after-taste that left me cringing. In a weird way, it reminded me of that lingering taste you get when drinking a Miller High Life, except it’s a darker. This is not a good thing. The impression only strengthens the farther you get into a bottle, and the final swigs were almost a chore.

I like Shiner enough that I had moral reservations about writing this post, but my disappointment was too overwhelming. I think it’s the worst of the beers I have tried in the series. Even more damaging was that it didn’t even come close to challenging a different beer I love brewed in the same Doppelbock style, called Ayinger Celebrator.

I’m hoping Shiner releases some sort of “sampler” pack with all of the anniversary edition beers, 96 through 100. It would be a fun way to make a final judgement on which beer rules this series. It’s a shame the finale turned out this way though.

Got a thought on the Shiner centennial series? Let’s hear it -

“What’s that?” you ask with wide-eyed wonder. According to Wikipedia (so BS, basically) snow is a type of precipitation in the form of crystalline water ice, consisting of a multitude of snowflakes that fall from clouds. It’s featured in such movies as Home Alone and Die Hard 2.

Kidding aside, I’m in that segment of Texans that wishes we got more of the white stuff. The closest thing we get, namely ice, is far less enjoyable than the picturesque, white winter landscape a snowfall brings. Plus, you can have a good deal of fun with snow: skiing, sledding, boarding, and snowmen make for a pretty strong pro-snow argument.

It was this longing for crystalline water ice that brought me to the town of Crested Butte in Colorado. To my surprise, it turned out to be the closest thing to a Texas Winter Wonderland I have encountered.

The town has a nice folksy small town feel to it, and the locals certainly were some of the most welcoming people I’ve met while traveling. It’s also a bizarre mix of different demographic groups: stoner x-game hippies, high-spending metrosexuals, South American students, frat boys & sorority chicks, van-driving Christian families, and camo-wearing hunters all come together in this big little city.

But the group represented more than any other was Texans. I can’t remember meeting so many other lone-star citizens in a state not connected to Texas, and their imprint is certainly visible – imagine my glee at being able to get a cold Shiner Bock in most places in town. From arguing with a Red Raider fan in the lift line to discussing the merits of living in the DFW area with other hotel guests, it’s easy to feel the home state spirit in Crested Butte.

If you’re hurting for some snow and are reeling from post-holiday office work, I strongly recommend this little town. The prices are more affordable than usual right now, and the locals would definitely appreciate the tourist dollars – particularly from Texas. Perhaps a nice way to dodge the mid-recession, pre-Armageddon blues?