He could tiptoe through the slightest penumbra. He would bless the world with a manifesto of attainable nirvana. He'd stoke flames to keep the meat warm. He fan the jorts over Smokey billows. He'd weild his tiny fasteners where no other human dare. He'd bury himself in the deepest caves of our most Northwest corner. He'd protect his needlework against the most buffonish of spills. He is and will always be a true marvel. A collective ode to the only Legend that deserves such a name. Made with our friends at Fast Fashion. Double dry-hopped with Simcoe, Motueka, Anchovy, and finished with Anchovy and Citra Abstrax terpenes.