Bone Haus Brewing presents Whispers of Geronimo, a toasted oatmeal stout that provides a crisp, complex flavor with hints of caramel and toasty grain.
Alc. 5.5% // IBUs 40
Excerpt from The Bone Haus Chronicles
Journal entry by Hans Von Biermann
During my seemingly endless searches for my uncle’s lost mine in the Superstitions, I have found a few places in this harsh land for a bit of respite to escape the sun or to rest from the weariness of despair. The most curious of these desert sanctuaries is what local legend calls Geronimo’s Cave. It is not much of a cave at all but more of an overhang of rock under which one can rest from the elements. It is rumored that only a few years ago, the famed Apache leader, Geronimo, used this cave to escape his pursuers. I found this cave entrance very much by accident when trying to get to higher ground to survey the area looking for potential mine entrances.
When I traversed about the front face of a large rise in the land, I saw the entrance, a deep carve in the mountainside. I was in need of rest and the cave entrance has a high perch upon which to sit that allows one to survey the land quite easily. I laid my pack down upon the desert floor at the entrance to the cave, took up my canteen, sat and drank and was spooked to a high level of alert from whispers I clearly heard behind me. I stood instantly, drawing my pistol, and turned rapidly only to find nothing but the rock wall behind me encased in silence. I looked around and found nothing and heard nothing more. I sat back down upon the perch at the entrance, a little more aware, a little more weary of my surroundings. I looked back behind me. Nothing. As I was about to continue my surveyance of the land in front of me, it happened again. Deep, unintelligible whispers carried by the wind. I looked back into the cave once again, looking for any signs of motion and the whispers stopped. Nothing. I looked forward to look upon the land and the whispers began. With rested calm, I tried to simply listen to the whispers as I clearly was not in harm’s way. The whispers guided my vision as I looked upon the land, stronger and more aggressive in some areas, weaker and calmer in others. I still have made no sense of the whisper guides but I know they are there.
I set a small fire for warmth as dusk approached and decided to listen to the whispers in hopes they would guide me to the mine entrance as I thought upon how I could possibly continue with this seemingly hopeless quest.
The origin of the whispers remains a mystery. I can only surmise they offer a warning to those still entrenched in this harsh land. Perhaps in time, they will guide but for now they only somehow soothe my soul, albeit in an eerie and indeterminate fashion.