EPISODE 3 OF OUR CRAFT BEER ACROSS AMERICA TOUR finds us spending two nights in Boulder, Colorado at the University Inn just off the ever-popular Pearl Street Mall, a four-block pedestrian-only oasis amidst a swirling mass of metropolitan auto traffic. The Pearl Mall is so central to midtown that its location is underneath the word “Boulder” in Google Maps.

After driving for days with days of driving ahead on our Benicia-to-Decorah, Iowa round trip, we wanted a place to get outside the vehicle and do some walking. Susan is a master planner.

She found the Pearl and next to it the meandering Boulder Creek Trail that leads toward the university. We spent the next two days on our feet walking most of the time, except for meals. We did no lounging or movie watching.

At dawn we were shoed and emerging on a quiet, empty Pearl Street. All the shops were closed. A smattering of people were walking about with purpose, starting their work day. We paused to admire art sculptures, read billboards at the visitor center and peer into windows. For a few hours we strolled several blocks in all directions beyond the Pearl Mall to get a feel for the city. At last we returned to a colorful café called Spruce Confections for coffee and sat outside on red iron chairs with other morning people and their dogs.

Jazzed, we followed Pearl Street west to its very end, then took the Boulder Creek Trail back. Then I bought a hat.

We were curious about the legal marijuana thing, being in Colorado and all, so we looked for an outlet. They were everywhere, but all low-key. They couldn’t advertise or be on street level. They were up or down a flight of stairs and beyond a modest door with a green cross.

We picked one ten feet away and stepped inside. There was no crowd of hippies. Two young guys, against separate walls, sat in folding chairs waiting their turn. The greeter asked only one question of me, “Medication or recreation?”

I said, “Recreation,” and he directed us to seats on his right. Get me, now. Susan and I were not shopping. We just wanted to check out the scene. I asked the recreation customer where he was from.

“Florida. I’m with a group and we are hiking to the state of Washington and camping along the way.”

“Wow. I didn’t know you could still do that. I know of the Pacific Crest, the Appalachian, and the Discovery Trail. I didn’t know there was a diagonal trail.”

“There isn’t. We’re making it up, about ten of us, stitching a bunch of trails together.”

“Dude, that’s real endurance.”

“Well, we also have a bus.”

“Oh, I see.” Then his turn came and he disappeared. I didn’t ask the sick guy across from me any questions. He wasn’t making eye contact. I asked the greeter, “So, how’s business?”

“It was crazy at first, but it’s stabilized. We have to downplay our presence. If you’re not looking for us, you won’t stumble in here by accident.” He shrugged. Meh. My turn came. I went in alone. Everything was behind counters, out of reach, tightly packaged, and clearly branded. Lots of company logos on weed these days. “I’m from California. Just checking you out,” I explained.

“People come in from all over the world,” the counter girl said.

I bet they do. I thanked them for their time. Speaking of time, it was time for craft beer. Boulder has 14 breweries and three are near the Pearl Street Mall. “Let’s do lunch, honey. Remember the bus tour guy in Fort Collins suggested Mountain Sun Brewery. It’s just a few blocks from here.”

This pub was packed to the walls. Outside a cluster of people waited to get in. We joined them. Inside the place was as efficient as the Russian River Brewery in Santa Rosa — a capacity-filled room of customers and employees and everyone being waited on in minutes. No employee averted their gaze from any customer. We read the menu in line. Our host took our order while finding us a seat, and brought our split reuben and two beers before we had a chance to read all the wall posters. I had the FYIPA and Susan had an Annapurna Amber. Outstanding.

“Good recommendation,” I said. “These guys have it going on.” They opened on Pearl Street in 1993 with six barrels. Since then they have brewed 79 different beers, won 13 awards, and have five tap houses.

It was Wednesday. In Boulder that means time for their weekly music bash called Bands on the Bricks. We stepped outside to see a stage being erected on Pearl Street. Within an hour a few thousand people showed up and packed the mall. They’d gathered to hear The Samples, a big-name local band that played reggae, hip-hop, and bluegrass. Folks danced and bopped until 9 p.m., then the music abruptly ended and by 9:30 the stage and everyone was gone.

We continued our Craft Tour the next morning. I drained water from my nearly empty cooler and refilled it with ice from a gas station across the street. Only three bottles of beer were buried under three bags of ice.

Onward to Thunderhead Brewery in Kearney, Nebraska and Zipline in Lincoln. This is the day; I shall buy beer.

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