Группа любителей пива отправилась в поиски легендарного сокровища разбойников в лесах Флагстаффа

Welcome back to the Masters of Brewtality crypt, boils and ghouls! This month, your favorite motley crew of freaks and geeks have drank ourselves beyond the realms of mere mortals in our ongoing quest to find a lost gold and silver treasure stashed in the woods just outside of Flagstaff. First, a quick refresher … . In 1881, roughly $125,000 worth of precious metals was stolen from a Wells Fargo stagecoach heading west by a crew of five bandits. A posse consisting of the 6th Army Cavalry and several Indigenous trackers was immediately put together to track for the missing fortune, and the posse eventually caught up to highwaymen at the Veit Springs cabin just off what would eventually become Snowbowl Road. The resulting ambush can only be described as a wholesale, immediate slaughter. When the dust and the blood settled, the posse found that the treasure had been stashed, and, with no survivors, it remained lost until 1913 when a local hermit living in that area started spending gold associated with the robbery. After downing four whiskey shots at local watering hole the Black Saloon, folks began asking the hermit, known as “Short” Jimmy McGuire, where he had found it, and before he could tell anyone, the story goes, he fell dead from a heart attack right there on the saloon floor, leaving the treasure still unaccounted for. So, we here at Masters of Brewtality, decided to go on the hunt for what has become known as Flagstaff’s Lost Dutchman’s treasure, but with our own little twist. We did booze pairings with each leg of this adventure. And, with our due research completed last month, we moved on to the next phase: talking to the ghost of Jimmy McGuire and finding where he hid his treasure. From there, it was a simple matter of just heading to the woods to pick it up. Easy, right? Mike Williams is a humble tattoo artist, an egotistical writer, a relentless beer drinker, unrepentant Hellraiser, connoisseur of all things Doom Metal and avid outdoorsman. After abandoning Phoenix as soon as possible, his writing and art have taken him around the world, with Flagstaff and Seattle being his longest home bases. You can find him at any number of downtown bars, slinging ink at Flagstaff Tattoo Company or not at all because he’s in the middle of nowhere hiding from this brutish modern world. He loves a huge campfire, anything that makes a loud boom and unending cold brews.