Just had to post this comment. I hope this doesn’t screw things up for the ladies in the tap room, this being a contest question and all, but it’s fun to know the history of Big Sky Brewing Co.’s Bobo’s Robust Porter, especially in a town that loves dogs as much as Missoula does.
From Mike Mahns:
And now for the rest of the story . . .
In the early days of the brewery, during the last millennium, there lived a small, yet valiant Chihuahua named Bobo. ( I have this story on good authority from one of the founding partners who left the brewery some time ago; parts of the story have been changed to make it more interesting.)
Bobo’s family took a vacation on the Rocky Mountain Front, enjoying all that good mother nature had to provide; fishing, swimming, camping, etc. And Bobo was a part of it all! Alas, the day came to depart the wildlands there on the eastern side of the Bob Marshall Wilderness and so with heavy heart, but fond memories, Bobo’s family packed up the car and headed back to Missoula. Unfortunately, Bobo was not with them! Of course they went back ( or maybe just called up the Sun Canyon Lodge to see if a “small and ugly dog was laying around), but, too late, Bobo was gone.
What to do? Search and Rescue wouldn’t go out and look. And Bobo was too small to see from the air. Also, he didn’t have anywhere to out pocket change so that and a lack of opposable thumbs made it difficult to use a phone. So the family grieved and they vowed to keep Bobo in their hearts for at least another week or so.
A month and a half went by. Summer began to turn to fall. Bobo was, by and large, nearly forgotten. Then one day, as the family stood around the car in the driveway, the littlest child turned to look up the street, only, incredibly, to see a small, ugly chihuahua limp-running toward the family! It was Bobo! The little girl shouted, the family all turned, smiles blossoming on their faces! Bobo was home! He was 20 yards out and running faster, so close and now one saw the black Dodge Ram backing out of the driveway across the street, not the family, and not Bobo. And guess who didn’t see Bobo. Yup.
So when you lift a glass of Bobo’s Porter, remember the little dog that made it home through the wild heartlands of Montana,braving icy streams, the talons of eagles, the snarling lips of Ursus Horriblis(Uh?) dodging all that Mother Nature threw at him, to be taken out by a Dodge Ram!
Cheers to you Bobo!