Chasing the dragon

Brian Wilson

In the slang of 19th century opium dens, the phrase chasing the dragon was used to describe an addict’s unsuccessful attempts to chase after that first euphoric high.

Given the physiological nature of opium and similar drugs, every other high is only a shadow of that first one despite the addict pushing just a little further until ultimately they are broken in body and spirit.

I was thinking of this phrase the other night while in Rib Lake covering an event. I got to thinking while it is a phrase coined out of the depths of addiction, how many of us chase our own dragons every day in other aspects of our lives.

Several years ago, I picked up the hobby of brewing beer. To me it was a natural progression from enjoying cooking to baking bread and enjoying a good, flavorful beer after a long day of work.

In my first batches, I slavishly followed the directions and stressed about every little hiccup. Was my wort at the right level of rolling boil? Did it matter that it took me 15 minutes rather than the recommended 11 minutes to bring the wort chilled enough to cast the yeast? Did I ruin hours of work by forgetting to add the hops until I had 9 minutes left in the boil rather than the 15?

As with any hobby, there are magazines, websites and online forums for the moderately to mostly obsessed to collect and trade tips or to ask questions.

The beer making world is no different than others. There are those who are closet chemists who see the brewing world as a combination of chemicals and biological functions joining in predictable and quantifiable ways. Their brewing area is as sterile as a research laboratory and they can be counted on to measure every ingredient down to the microgram.

These folks chase their dragon by attempting to duplicate commercial or microbrew beers that they have come across.

As a brewing friend once said, “You know who makes really good Busch Light? Busch Light does.”

To me attempting to replicate someone else’s beer would be about as satisfying to my soul as if I was a painter and sitting down and attempting to duplicate a work by Rembrandt or a musician attempting to exactly replicate the concert pianist or world-renowned cello player.

There is value in doing this as a training exercise. Even Picasso was classically trained and could paint a bowl of fruit to look like a bowl of fruit. But the genius is not in duplication.

In the beer world, I don’t necessarily strive to have my next batch of Blackberry Oatmeal Maple Stout taste identical to my last one. I suppose with production techniques I could even out the peaks and valleys and strive for the mediocre sameness that passes for most commercially produced beers.

Chasing that particular dragon will just lead to disappointment.

Brewing, like baking or wine making is ultimately a fusion of science and art with a little bit of passion, and a dash of madness thrown in for taste. Masterpieces are not made by staying inside the lines or using only the same eight colors of crayons in the starter pack.

If I chase any dragon, it is the one I know is lurking on the other side of the hill. The one I have never seen, but which I have heard others whisper about. My challenge is that rather than follow a well-blazed path over that hill, I choose to make my own way. As with any ambling sort of journey, it is easy to get turned around and sidetracked by a babbling brook or a hidden glen where the fresh green leaves of the trees keep you entranced.

We all chase our dragons. We all want to see that glimpse of heaven that can only be experienced on the fleeting moments of apogee before we fall like Icarus getting too close to the sun.

The lesson, then is to pursue your passions, but at the same time don’t get consumed by them.

Brian Wilson is News Editor at The Star News.