SUSAN AND I TOOK TURNS DRIVING across the lengthy expanse of Wyoming on our way from Evanston to Laramie and the next stop on our self-appointed Craft Beer Across America Tour. Equipped with GPS, Google Maps, the Find Craft Beer app, and Yelp, we were traveling to a concert in Decorah, Iowa and in the process seeking out local breweries, distinctive new flavors, a few stories, and maybe a bottle, can, growler, pint glass, hat, shirt, key chain or coaster for our backseat cooler and schwag bag.

We had two options in Laramie, Altitude Brewery and Coal Creek Tap House. We could only stop at one because we had to get on down to Fort Collins and visit New Belgium Brewery, then on to Boulder and our next sleep-over reservation at the University Inn.

I picked Altitude Brewery because I read they had hand-carved wooden tap handles, and having grown up in Ridgway, the Chainsaw Carving Capital of the World, I’m a wood carving fan.

Alas, it was only after we returned to Benicia and I submitted my first episode of this journey to The Herald that I got an email from Marc, our illustrious editor, who informed me I should have forgotten Altitude and gone to Coal Creek Tap House instead. He used to live there and his wife is from there. Alack, it’s too late. I’ll have to go back.

As a rule, I order IPAs and Susan orders pale ales. She described her taste preference the same way to pourers in every brewery. “I like Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. What do you have that tastes like that?” It makes me smile and shake my head ever so slightly. It is a sincere, if novice, request. Not to be a hypocrite — I am quietly seeking Pliny taste-alikes myself, I just don’t announce it. And to be true, the lingering taste of Hopalong Cassidy IPA from Brasserie Saint James in Reno was still on my tongue.

The Altitude employees all enjoyed talking to us once they found out we were Californians on a beer quest. They took turns sharing stories. Two said they came to Laramie for college and never went home. A local carver designed all their finely detailed beer taps — a woodsman, a polar bear, a grizzly, a hot pepper, a fish, a pine tree, a fireman, a wizard, and a blazing sun.

After a shared flight and a split burger, we settled on two souvenir glasses. Had we visited Coal Creek we may have left with beer. So far our cooler was empty. On to New Belgium.

Many readers have likely tasted Fat Tire or Ranger or other New Belgium brew. They’re a huge organization that sells in 30 states. I was drawn by their green environmental business model. New Belgium is employee-owned, employees bicycle to work, solar panels and biogas help them produce 14 percent of their own electricity, their buildings maximize on natural light, heat, and cooling, and they make damn fine beer. We bought a flight and a bicycle bell.

We sipped at a table with a guy with small print on his shirt. I finally leaned in to read it. It said “Beer Bus Tour Guide.” Well, well. I struck up a conversation. Like Marc the editor, this guy had some off-Broadway advice. “New Belgium is great,” he said. “Fort Collins has sixteen breweries, and this is where all the tourists want to come. The locals by far prefer Odell. It has excellent beer, a beautiful taproom, and an enormous patio.”

“Sixteen breweries? Wow.” I said. “The sun is setting. Where is Odell?”

“It’s a few blocks from here and they close in 25 minutes.”

Susan and I polished our flight and took off running. We made it in time for an Odell IPA and a 6th Generation pale. I typed this description: crisp, complex, saturates the palate, distinctive hoppy aftertaste.

We stepped onto the massive, multi-tier, wraparound patio packed with people as the intercom announced, “Last call. Closing in one hour.” Nobody flinched. Regulars.

The tour dude recommended I try their Myrcenary Imperial IPA, which rates a 95 on Beer Advocate. Out of time, I bought three 22 oz. bottles of specialty beers (our first purchase!): Trellis Garden Pale Ale, Barrel Thief Oak Aged Imperial IPA, and Mercenario Imperial IPA, a special blend brewed only once, based on their year-round Myrcenary. The tab: $54.

I still have all three resting in my refrigerator at home. Haven’t tasted them yet.

At 6 p.m. the breweries were closing, but Fort Collins was just waking up. Susan did her Yelp thing and suggested we visit The Mayor of Old Town on Mason and Myrtle downtown, rated one of the top beer bars in America, home of 100 taps. I had to use the Pano setting on my iPhone to photograph them all. I have the full list in my folder.

I had a Crank Yanker IPA from local Eddyline Brewery. It was tropical. Sue had a Brush Creek Blonde from local Bonfire Brewery. It was “Yum.”

Onward to Boulder, where we booked a double night. We wanted to do it up right.

Steve Gibbs teaches at Benicia High School and has written a column for The Herald since 1985.