FB status words: What makes a father and son trek to all 73 Iowa breweries in a single year? Sure, they love a good beer. But even more they want to support each other through tough times.

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HAMPTON, Ia. — "Dad, let’s have a beer."

These heartfelt words probably have been uttered for as long as there have been fathers and sons who live in a civilization that knows anything about fermentation.

A year ago, Clint and Marc Bailey exchanged these words.

And soon the father and son embarked together on an epic quest.

Marc, 31, the son who lives in Bondurant, got the brainstorm in late 2015: He and his dad should bond over not just one kind of beer in one place on one night. Why not attempt their own yearlong, statewide toast to father and son by enjoying distinct, flavorful local beers at each and every craft brewery in Iowa? GET HERE FOR JUMP

Clint, 56, the dad who lives in rural Milo, was instantly intrigued. Marc had him at the word “beer.” But Clint didn't realize the depth of his commitment.

“I had no idea what I was getting into," he said. "How many."

The local craft-brew scene has boomed since five years ago, when Iowa boasted fewer than 30 breweries. Now 73 breweries have spread into every corner of the state.

Meanwhile, Clint felt a gnawing sense of dread that maybe he had precious little time left to spend with Marc. The recent death of his own father still stung. If Clint wasn't going to join his son now on this mad escapade, when would he?

Little did either of them know how much the beer tour would become the vehicle for the Baileys to reckon with mortality and the emotional turmoil of a failed marriage.

“I could hit up a dive bar anytime with my friends,” Marc said of why initially he chose to indulge in his love of craft beer with his dad rather than peers. “But this way I can make a memory.”

Last week, father and son bellied up to a table inside Rustic Brew in Hampton where generous 7-ounce beer samples were served to them in a re-purposed muffin tin. There was a rye, a nut brown ale and even a peach wheat that didn’t clobber the palate with sweetness.

In this northern Iowa town of 4,400, Rustic Brew is an atypical stop on this tour because by necessity it's a Swiss Army Knife-style multipurpose hangout. It draws a critical mass of patrons by appealing to a broad cross-section of tastes. In addition to craft beer it also sells wine, coffee, food and even Christmas ornaments.

This was the first of five breweries for the day and 62nd on the overall list.

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The last person to complete such an exhaustive statewide circuit probably was J. Wilson, the “minister of Iowa beer” and sole employee of the Iowa Brewers Guild.

The Baileys’ personal patriarchy of pints, Wilson said, is “the best I’ve heard, for sure."

Wilson, who lives in rural Adams County in southwest Iowa, made the rounds in late 2013 to research his book, “Iowa Pints.”

This was in the wake of Iowa’s initial craft-beer boom. A 2010 law more than doubled the allowable alcohol content of Iowa beer, from about 6 to 15 percent, and unleashed brewmasters’ creativity.

“That’s where the line on the graph starts to skew upward pretty dramatically,” Wilson said.

It’s still rising. The occasional brewery closure — Raccoon River in downtown Des Moines, or Brick Street in Woodbine — has been more than offset, Wilson said, by at least half a dozen planned expansions and as many as 20 new breweries expected in the coming months.

Our five-stop circuit last week included Fat Hill in Mason City, a gorgeous new taproom that opened this month on the downtown square within view of the Historic Park Inn Hotel designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. The smiling and bearded brewer behind the bar, newlywed Jake Rajewsky, cut his teeth at Mason City Brewing just around the corner.

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'They're pouring their dreams'

On its face, this brewery tour is simple: Marc and Clint walk into a taproom and announce, “We’ve come from Des Moines to try your beer.”

But that moment comes only after exhaustive research by Marc. He assembled meticulous data and plotted the breweries on an Iowa road map. He often calls in advance to ensure they will be open. He tries to arrange a special tour when necessary.

He loves to geek out on all this, which one would expect of a guy whose left arm is tattooed with symbols to represent beer's four main ingredients: grain, hops, yeast and water.

Spreadsheet analysis is nothing new for Marc. By day he works from home in the health care field as a pharmacy benefit manager to help his company’s clients determine the value of new drugs on the market.

He stands a slender 6 feet and 157 pounds. But that's after shedding about 100 pounds in recent years. He runs, bikes and lifts weights to stay in shape.

Marc and his wife, Elizabeth, are raising two children: son Micah, 9, and daughter Layla, 3.

They live just a few blocks from Reclaimed Rails Brewing Company in Bondurant, where the tour officially began in January.

Clint is the responsible driver. He's the duo's dainty sipper. His ground rules: Drink no more than 8 ounces in a single visit. Don't finish a flight of beer. Don't order a full beer.

And the 64-ounce glass "growlers" that Marc buys from each brewery usually are empty, so Micah can add them to a massive collection that lines a wall at home.

This isn't a guzzling tour. It's all about savoring taste and sharing time.

Clint and Marc in their zeal have driven all the way to Sioux City to visit just one brewery.

They have walked into taprooms that have been converted from a jewelry store, florist shop, John Deere dealership, funeral home, fire station or Legion hall.

They dared sample the “Orange Scorpion” at C.I.B. Brewery in Carson, a beer made from hot “volcanic” peppers “that burned all the way down,” Marc said.

They spent a Sunday afternoon sharing a brewery taproom with a baby shower.

They have seen parts of rural Iowa they never knew existed, where, for instance, a gaggle of Amish schoolchildren stood and stared as they drove by.

They visited the 100-acre Buck Creek Hops farm near Solon as an extra stop.

They toured the Granite City brewery in Ellsworth that services dozens of the chain’s brewpubs nationwide.

In the process, the Baileys have been impressed to meet dozens of other fathers, sons, mothers and daughters who are behind every pour. Many brewery owners are starting second or third careers. They’re former insurance salespeople, meteorologists, teachers, graphic designers.

“They’re pouring their dreams, their hopes, their finances into something and hoping it succeeds,” Clint said.

Tradition flows from father to son

Clint, who works as a director for an electrical contractor, grew up near Bondurant on the family farm where his mother still lives. His father, Guy, died in April 2014 in the living room of the very same farmhouse. Guy, an ex-smoker, was riddled with lung cancer. Clint was there to share in the final moments of a father who early on had taught him the meaning of hard, honest work.

Back when Clint was baling hay on the farm with his father and uncles, a sweet, crisp Grain Belt lager on a hot summer's day defined the taste of beer.

Clint also still is trustee of the local Franklin Township where the family farm is located. Guy for decades was caretaker of the nearby rural cemetery. Marc worked there alongside his grandfather and upon his death took over the job. He now trims the grass that grows around his grandfather's grave.

Thus the sad and glorious changing of generations is part of the sentiment that fuels this beer tour. Clint is now a grandfather four times over thanks to both Marc and his sister.

“When my dad was my age," Clint said, "I didn’t hang out with him.”

Clint was raising a family in his early 20s. Guy was at the tail end of his farming career. The two rarely connected.

So driving to 73 different breweries with Marc seemed more ideal than daunting.

But then came the divorce. Marc said that he had no inkling of trouble in his parents' marriage when he proposed the beer tour.

The divorce first reared its head in the spring and, with plenty of horribleness along the way, became irreversible by summer.

"There’s definitely times Dad broke down in tears," Marc said, "and we talked about stuff."

I'm not here to analyze the failed marriage. Suffice it to say that Marc and his wife refused to take sides, he said.

"Even if it’s not for our sake, for our kids' sake we have to make sure that we retain those relationships," he said.

There was a stretch of road earlier this year from Decorah to Manchester where father and son stopped to linger and watch a heavy rainstorm as it swept across the rolling hills.

If not for this crazy mission, they never would have shared that quaint interlude.

“It’s those kinds of memories, it doesn’t matter what happens in life," Marc said. "Those will always stay with us.”

Kyle Munson can be reached at 515-284-8124 or kmunson@dmreg.com. See more of his columns and video at DesMoinesRegister.com/KyleMunson. Connect with him on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram (@KyleMunson) and on Snapchat (@kylemunsoniowa).