I am a little late for #beersaurday but I have an excellent excuse.
I got kidnapped by the Mrs. 
After an hour, I was able to wiggle free and take a few photos of my location, in the event that I never came back!
Now I have tell y'all when the first house you see in over fifteen minutes of driving, looks like this know that you is way in those hills.
I must admit I was a tad bit nervous as the Mrs.
So finally, the car stop and she took the gag off my mouth, saying something about the most pleasant drive she had had in years.
Clearly some sort of insult disparaging my witty banter. The next thing I see is a KEG!
Hey who knows things might not be so bad on the #beersaturday for the old
My brief relief, quickly turned to horror. This ain't no brewery, this is, oh dear lord, not a . . . winery!
Yep, I got kidnapped and hauled off to a winery.
No the ridge line is all too familiar to North Carolinians, so I at least knew exactly where I was. The mountain is called Grand Father Mountain.
And there in the shadow of Grand Father Mountain, the Mrs.
Oh and, in her words, a romantic babbling brook.
When she had finished her romantic mountain adventure to the mountains, she was good enough and kind enough to take me to a local brewery where I cleansed my palate with some beer!
Yea, so that is what happened to me last #beersaturday. I am still trying to recover from the traumatic events of last beersaturday.
Next week I promise I will be safely in the man cave!