We need to get you to Oregon for about a week. (There’s lots of awesome non-beer stuff to do.) Our first IPAs came out in the 80s, and it was a common style by the early 90s. After BridgePort released their IPA in 1996, it became a ubiquitous style—in other words, 15 years ahead of the rest of the country.
We have lots and lots of IPAs that are just called IPA. Many are hazyish, because they’ve always been hazyish. BridgePort’s was almost New England hazy. The “American” long predates WC out here, and distinguishes a beer from an English IPA (which goes to show how old it is). WC IPA today means “San Diego style.” (Little-noticed fact: Oregon is also on the west coast.)
If you want a hazy in Oregon, you need to order a hazy. If it just says IPA, it means “in the long lineage of Oregon IPAs, with pale malt, a bit of body, some kettle bitterness, and lots of juice. (We passed the juice threshold decades ago.)
If you come out soon, I can direct you to some fresh hop beers!
Did you need the graphic to go all the way up to 1980 for the birth of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale to understand that all those years also fall above the Mendoza line too?
Great post! Beyond geography, I think there's also been something of a generational shift among drinkers. If you're in your early 20s to early 30s, most—if not all—of your legal drinking has occurred in Age of Hazies. And for many of these people, IPA is synonymous with a hazier beer since this is what they would have increasingly encountered out in the market. So it's not just the age of the brewer/brewery, but the age of the drinker that has also led us to this potentially confusing crossroad.
This post reminds me how big the US is and how different markets enter products and trends at different points or times. I do notice the truth in the axiom that things in the US tend to start on the coasts and work their way inland. But it’s a journey that can definitely take some unexpected turns along the way.
We need to get you to Oregon for about a week. (There’s lots of awesome non-beer stuff to do.) Our first IPAs came out in the 80s, and it was a common style by the early 90s. After BridgePort released their IPA in 1996, it became a ubiquitous style—in other words, 15 years ahead of the rest of the country.
We have lots and lots of IPAs that are just called IPA. Many are hazyish, because they’ve always been hazyish. BridgePort’s was almost New England hazy. The “American” long predates WC out here, and distinguishes a beer from an English IPA (which goes to show how old it is). WC IPA today means “San Diego style.” (Little-noticed fact: Oregon is also on the west coast.)
If you want a hazy in Oregon, you need to order a hazy. If it just says IPA, it means “in the long lineage of Oregon IPAs, with pale malt, a bit of body, some kettle bitterness, and lots of juice. (We passed the juice threshold decades ago.)
If you come out soon, I can direct you to some fresh hop beers!
Did you need the graphic to go all the way up to 1980 for the birth of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale to understand that all those years also fall above the Mendoza line too?
Well let’s not get crazy. I would accept 1981–Celebration Ale.
Great post! Beyond geography, I think there's also been something of a generational shift among drinkers. If you're in your early 20s to early 30s, most—if not all—of your legal drinking has occurred in Age of Hazies. And for many of these people, IPA is synonymous with a hazier beer since this is what they would have increasingly encountered out in the market. So it's not just the age of the brewer/brewery, but the age of the drinker that has also led us to this potentially confusing crossroad.
This post reminds me how big the US is and how different markets enter products and trends at different points or times. I do notice the truth in the axiom that things in the US tend to start on the coasts and work their way inland. But it’s a journey that can definitely take some unexpected turns along the way.