Beaver Street is open Sun-Wed 11a -1a and Thurs-Sat 11a-2a
Located at 11 South Beaver Street #1, Flagstaff, AZ 86001
Lumberyard is open Sun-Tues 11a-11p and Weds-Sat 11a-2a
5 South San Francisco Street, Flagstaff, AZ 86001
Flagstaff is the most un-Arizona place in Arizona that we’ve been to so far. The drive in to town is accentuated by pine trees, and if you don’t think it’s weird to see green trees in the Arizona desert then you’ll definitely be blown away by the sight of snowy mountains off in the distance. Historic downtown Flagstaff is home to four breweries and two more can be found by driving 10 to 15 minutes east on Route 66. We’ll talk about those two some other time though because today we’re sticking to downtown. For the first time in the blog’s history we’re talking about two locations in one post. I know that seems like cheating but like I’ve told many an ex-girlfriend before: it’s not cheating because they’re related, baby.
Beaver Street Brewing has been around for twenty years and the owners of that place opened Lumberyard about four years ago. I started my Saturday night by heading into Beaver Street and realized it had a college-y, sports bar feel.
They had pool tables, TVs tuned to some sort of sportitude, a full bar with a vast selection of liquor and, for some odd reason, bottles of beer like Tecate and Bud Light. I mean, I get it, they’re trying to appeal to a large customer base and some people like the comfort of a Bud Light. But if you’re reading this, please don’t order that at a microbrewery. It’s kind of like going to a nunnery and whipping your dick out. Just not classy at all.
The bartendress called me, “Sir,” which is a thing that happens to me now, I guess. The place was a bit loud, with a bunch of young people socializing and top 40 pop music blaring from their speakers. The flight here had seven beers and a few of them could also be found over at Lumberyard Brewing Co. which is about a five to ten minute walk away if you have the energy. I used have energy but these days my back starts acting up and my feet get swollen and all those college kids just looked so skinny and happy and don’t have a care in the world because life hasn’t beaten them down yet. I remember those days. Sigh.
Anyway, I had the pleasure of sampling some of the food at Beaver Street. The menu has a soup and chili section as well as a several choices of sandwiches and woodfired pizzas. Their starters get a little fancier than the typical wings and potato skins that you’d normally find in a place that looks like this. They bring out the big guns with steamed mussels, salmon cakes, hummus and more. They even have a jambalaya platter for people who can’t decide if they want their meals to have sausage, chicken or shrimp, because this shit has all three!
I’ll be honest, I was feeling a bit out of place with all the young people around. Nothing against Beaver Street Brewery, of course. I’m sure it was just the funk I was in because I need to get a retirement account and an Icy Hot pad thing for my knee. So I decided to finish my meal, finish the flight and take a walk down to Lumberyard Brewing Co.
Flagstaff was easily 40 degrees at most that night which didn’t do my joints any favors. I approached Lumberyard and was carded by a bouncer standing outside the entry. If you thought Beaver Street was loud, Lumberyard was deafening. It was crowded with even more, somehow even younger-looking college kids. They even had a dance floor where people were country dancing.
My grandfather taught me how to two-step back in the day. He always used to say that any dance that required more than two steps was likely to turn you gay. Classic grandpappy.
The flight at Lumberyard was ten beers long. A very drunk young lady sitting by me asked if I was going to do all those shots by myself. I informed her that it was a beer sampler and she slurred that she didn’t drink beer before crying about some ex-boyfriend or something. I tried to ask the bartender about the beers but it was so loud in there that when I asked him what kind of hops they brew with he thought I asked, “Whose Pop is that Jew with?” I hope he didn’t think I was being racist. He called me “Sir,” too, by the way, which, is that just gonna happen all the time now?
Lumberyard sells their beers in cans and bombers (the tall glass bottles) and, like Beaver Street, has an extensive liquor selection. So if you want a cocktail instead of a beer it looks like there’s nothing they don’t have.
After the flight I decided it was time to shake off feeling like an old-timer and meet some ladies. Flagstaff is a college town so a lot of the patrons were beautiful young women. I introduced myself to about ten of them before I found one named Amber, which allowed me to ask her if I could buy her an Amber beer. Classic pick-up line, I know. Unfortunately Lumberyard didn’t have an Amber on tap and also Amber’s boyfriend was a very large, strong man who didn’t much like me hitting on his girl. I tried to plead ignorance but it was hard to plead anything after getting punched in the gut. Weirdly enough the guy’s name was Porter.
In summation, both Beaver Street and Lumberyard are cool, hip places for youngsters looking to grab a brew and fist bump each other while being skinny and not having any gray hair and also not having their dreams crushed by an ex-wife who constantly reminds you that you still don’t have a retirement account and goes on and on about how you’re an irresponsible drunk and should’ve grown out of this years ago, like, we get it, Francine! Your new boyfriend is perfect and drives a Corvette. Like I give a shit.
Anyway, go to Beaver Street Brewery and Lumberyard Brewing Co. as often as you can because you’re still young. You can still dance. You can still stay awake until 2am. You’re young at heart. Just keep reminding yourself of that and whatever you do, do not listen to fucking Francine!