Montreal in the Fall. The leaves turn yellow, orange, red, then fall into the gutters, revealing skeletal, looming tree-shaped monsters that line the streets and live in the parks.
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And as I fall into a Tryptophan-induced haziness of exhaustion and over-indulgence, my first reflections for Thanksgiving 2017 are ones of The Path.
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The smell when you enter a home where there's fresh bread baking in the oven... is there a more comforting scent to come home to?
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The quality of beer being an awesome bonus to this road trip and I'm constantly blown away by the innovation and boundary pushing of brewery scene in the Pacific Northwest.
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