Fremont, Seattle: Where drinks come true.

[Part 2 of the Series Where I Catch You Up on My Drinking Doings Since December.]

Once upon a time, I went to Fremont Brewing to have a few beers and then ended up just drinking in Fremont all day long.

Hmm, that sounds oddly like a lot of my drinking excursions. This is suddenly less new and exciting than I realized.

Well, here’s the deal. Fremont is really cool and there are a lot of cool bars, so it’s sort of hard to escape. The entire thing started because I wanted to go to Fremont Brewing. I wanted to go for two reasons: 1) I hadn’t been in a while and was craving beer (like I always do) and 2) I had won a Fremont Brewing sweatshirt at some beer event in December and it was too big, so I was hoping to exchange it for one that fit me better.

I convinced myself that the second reason was the bigger reason, and then decided to bike there from Capitol Hill because it was SO NICE AND SUNNY outside. Which is not something you can say often in January in Seattle.

So I biked there, and my reward was not only a new sweatshirt, but a COLD BEER. (Duh, I just biked, like, 6 whole miles.)


So apparently it really had been a long time since I’d visited Fremont Brewing, because they had a brand new bar space! It’s much bigger and less warehouse-y, although it was still completely packed with people when I arrived. There have cool bleacher-like seats though, so I got to perch up high and people-watch while I waited for my friend.

Once he arrived, we drank our beers and evaluated the situation. 4pm. Soooo…it’s happy hour. So, we should probably do that. I was being a lazy ass and didn’t feel like walking, but he convinced me that we should head to Westward.

No, not head westward.

Head TO Westward.

Which is apparently a new restaurant.

It’s also apparently awesome.

Commence 20 minutes of walking and me whining about having to walk. (“C’mon, I biked 6 miles today. Why should I walk anywhere??”)

Well, we finally arrived, and I must say I was more impressed than I expected to be. I mean, look:

8I8C5769_zps6f4d57c8Oh hey, I’m just that building on the left right on the water with some fire pits and a dock and all that jazz. Really, it’s not a big deal.

Yeah. Also they had oysters. And cocktails.


That’s the sound of me being the happiest person on the planet. I mean, oysters AND cocktails?!? Are you trying to kill me with happiness??

So yeah. No regrets. I didn’t even care about having to walk a mile back, plus another half mile to get to the next place. I had eaten oysters and drank cocktails. I was at peace with everything.

Since that was just oysters and cocktails (i.e. happy hour i.e. that place is expensive and I can’t afford that shit), we had to find somewhere else for dinner. Options were discussed. We finally settled on The Sixgill because a) I’d never been there and b) it’s a beer bar.

The Sixgill is one of the many bars located in what one might call the “restaurant heart” of Fremont. I mean, good god, you can’t throw a cat without hitting some new hip food/drink establishment. And somehow they’re all “new” and “hip” even if they’ve been around for years. I don’t even understand.

The Sixgill is a cool, chill spot with 36 rotating taps and some great upscale pub fare. They also have a ton of nautical maps that you can just look at. Like, what you’d find in a map store. Because that’s cool. Right?

Whatever, I thought it was cool.


We ordered beers and shared a few plates and I tried to convince myself I was still 100% sober. (“Seriously, I’m not drunk. I biked 6 miles, what are you suggesting?”)

^The point here is that I was, in fact, drunk. That logic isn’t even logic.

After I nearly clubbed the waiter with my camera (by accident, I swear), I figured it was time to go. Once we got outside, however, I knew I had to continue the mission. You know, the drinking mission. Or whatever. My point is, I wasn’t done drunking. Yes. Drunking.

“DESSERT!” I cried.

Holy hell. I am a monster.

So we went next door to The Barrel Thief, which is to date the strangest establishment I have ever visited. Don’t get me wrong, it’s really great. But generally you go to beer bars, whiskey bars, wine bars, and the occasional beer and whiskey bar.

But a WINE and WHISKEY bar? That shit’s weird.

Surprisingly it works, though. The place is really classy and they have a gorgeous wine and whiskey menu. I was definitely on the whiskey side of things, so I ordered a glass of scotch while my friend ordered bourbon. And we shared a shockingly delicious slice of gluten-free carrot cake.

I’d share some of my photos, but I was rather drunk and have just discovered that they’re all blurry. Oops.

Now you’re probably thinking, oh crap, did she bike home after all that?!?

Well, no.

I got a ride. With my bike in the trunk. HUZZAH!

But seriously, this was the most successful day of my life (at the moment, at least). I had biked somewhere because I’m so awesome and in shape (complete lies), then I had a lot to drink (this is true), and then someone else drove me home (also true). It was magical.

(I just tried to spell magical with a “j”. But shhhhhh don’t tell anyone.)

At any rate, dear friends, I wish upon all of YOU a magical day of drinking and biking and feeling good about yourself. Because truly, no day is better than a day without plans or agenda where you get to drink yourself silly on your own terms.

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