My first time in Memphis, nearly a decade ago, I bourboned my way through Beale Street so hard I left without many memories. So going into this visit, I still had very little Bluff City knowledge. I knew the things it’s good at, sure—music and barbecue amongst them.

But what about the beer scene? I had heard rumor of a brewery churning out a veritable shit-ton of Pilsner—10,000 barrels of the stuff. Beyond that, I was clueless.

Here's the thing, though: contrary to popular belief, clueless is a great way to travel. It opens up opportunities you wouldn’t have if you were things like, say, “informed” or “prepared.” It lets you explore and get in trouble and experience weird things you wouldn’t have if you did things like, say, “research” or “plan.”

Long story short: I flew blind for a weekend in Memphis with GBH editor Austin L. Ray as my co-pilot. We had a blast. Long story long begins below.