The Beer Borg

If you ever want to feel like a kid again, take on a new project. Not for the thrill of discovery and the joy of personal growth. No, you’ll feel like a kid because kids find new things baffling, intimidating, and downright scary.

I felt that way with the first batch of beer I made. In spite of the simplicity of the Mr. Beer kit, I was worried I’d mess it up. So were you; don’t lie, and each new level was accompanied by the same sense of dread you felt when your older brother dared you to stick your hand into that dark hole in the basement wall.

When it came to kegging my homebrew, I was really terrified. Drawing homemade beer from a tap in your ManCave is the ultimate cool. But boy, was it scary. This wasn’t just steeping specialty grains; if you decided you were kegging, you knew you weren’t reneging. It’s a big investment, and a real commitment. Then there’s the fact that it has a technical aspect to it, and unfortunately, I’m as technically adept as a baked potato.

I knew I could go one of two ways. I could either buy a complete pre-made system, or I could buy the components over time and put it all together. Well, three ways, if you count going on Craigslist and buying one from a complete stranger, but that wasn’t an option. Buying a potential cockroach farm didn’t appeal to me.

I decided to go with components. I measured out the space I’d chosen, bought the right sized chest freezer, and began looking into the interior hardware. This is where it got intimidating. All those bits and pieces and hoses and valves…. I was feeling more and more like an Idaho every time I tried to figure it out.

My biggest concern was The Ikea Factor. You’ve got everything in front of you, ready to assemble it, and only then do you discover there’s one small piece that’s absolutely essential to holding the whole thing together, and you don’t have it. I just knew that was going to happen to me. Especially since I was acquiring parts and setting them aside like a squirrel burying random acorns.

One thing that made me feel a little less baked potato-ish was the resources I found. Not only is there good advice at online forums like beerborg.com, but the guys at my LHBS steered me through a lot of the areas I found especially baffling and intimidating. I could get an instant answer and work one-on-one with them. The best advice I got from them was compiling a list from beginning to end, sort of like a road map from the CO2 tank to the pint glass. It made it easy to know what I already had, what I still needed, and how it all flowed together.

Even then, I made mistakes; some of them quite stupid, I’m embarrassed to admit. My first major mistake was not realizing that the CO2 tank the LHBS sold me was empty. It makes perfect sense, in retrospect, but it never occurred to me at the time. So there I was, ready to hook up my first keg, only to discover I was hooking it up to an empty tank. Well, wrap me in foil and put me in a pre-heated oven.

Still, that was a small setback. Of course, I made another Spud Move immediately after, neglecting to wrap Teflon tape on the connecting threads between the tank and the regulator. I honestly should have known better, and for at least a full day, I had CO2 leaking into my keezer. I wasted a lot of gas with that move. I won’t make that mistake again.

I also learned the difference between pin lock kegs and ball lock kegs. I knew they were different because they have different names, but until I compared them, I didn’t completely grasp the difference. I got to compare them because I bought a pin lock keg online when I’d already committed to a ball lock system. Yeah, I did that, realizing my mistake a couple of days later, after it was too late the cancel the order.

But you know something? By this time, I had the confidence to work with it. I searched online for conversion kits, bought the proper parts, and then did the conversion myself.

I’m still learning some of the finer points, and I’m discovering that, like many things concerning beer, time and patience are key. I’ve been enjoying homebrew on tap for a few months, and I’m glad I took that first big step. It’s opened a new world for me, not only in my brewing, but also in learning that with the right support and guidance, I can acquire a new skill. So hold the sour cream and chives; this potato is only half-baked.

Wait, that didn’t come out right….