I walked over to the railings looking out onto Hell Gate, pumped my fist into the air, and yelled out “Bowen!” before returning to my bench with a sheepish grin on my face.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, so tell us about this year’s NYSBRAF event.

And just what would bring this super-fit specimen of humanity (cough!) to such a dilapidated state at the end of each day?

Not the prettiest beer that I have ever had, which was to be expected after spending a night under a table in the back of the bar (the beer, not me), but it was dang tasty; some perfumed hoppiness up front, malt in the middle and a residual bitterness that lures you back for another one.