Rural Pursuits
A beer festival to savour has Alastair Gilmour utterly enchanted.
I’m barely halfway down my glass of Hot Wired Tut-Tut Pale Ale when I’m plotting my route home. I’ve just arrived at the Snods Edge Beer Festival, suitably impressed by this hazy representative from Caps Off Brewery in Bishop Auckland – the perfect overture to a Saturday afternoon’s enjoyment – but I need to plan my bus times for later.
It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed my first few minutes in St John’s Community Hall, but it’s October and the days are shortening; I’ve parked the car for pick up in the morning and by late this afternoon it’s going to be decidedly gloomy. There’s a mile-and-a-quarter to walk to the nearest public transport in Shotley Bridge and the B6278 is surrounded by trees and shrubbery that will darken quickly to create shadows, shades and sounds that I’d rather not be part of alone. Plenty of time before that, though.
The B6278 through Snods Edge isn’t exactly the A1.
On second thoughts… have you been on the A1 lately?
Who could resist this design and name?
“It’s the easiest route,” says a friendly festival organiser in answer to my ‘best way’ query, “but you’ll need to watch out for Devils Dip – it’s a dark spot even on a clear day.”
Devil’s Dip. Devil’s Dip, that ominously dim quarter-mile, steep up-and-downer that I negotiated by car not ten minutes previously. I now have a name to measure it against.
Snods Edge Beer Festival is into its twelfth year which will come as a surprise to many because nobody knows where Snods Edge is – nobody who I’ve been talking to for the last fortnight, that is. ‘Nobody’ knows what Snods Edge is, why it exists or what the hell people are doing here today, other than soaking up a rural community celebration in the tiny bottom-left corner of Northumberland that pokes its way into County Durham without anybody noticing or harming a soul.
Snods Edge is too small to be called a village. It’s not even a hamlet – much tinier than that – with barely a dwelling in sight, save a peppering of isolated farmhouses. Let’s call it a ham or a let, but really Snods Edge is an area. The theory behind the name I prefer of those mooted is that it marks the thawing edge of the snowline that covers this segment of the North Pennines (‘snow’s edge’) winter after winter.
I move along the handpulls to Almasty Brewery Afghani Bullrider (4.4% abv), another hazy, decidedly fruity beer, probably a bit too pineapple and passionfruit flavoured (and hazy) for me. I kind of wince through my sip and sup, but tell myself it’s what beer festivals are all about – an opportunity to experience a different beer and brewery which might take you completely out of your comfort zone but always with a good chance you might think, ‘go on punk, you’re making my day’.
“You could take the other road that seems to go round in a circle, but doesn’t,” says my new routemaster buddy, re-appearing from behind with his rich, malty and complex Durham Brewery Bohemian Brown Ale (4.5% abv) which I take note of for later. “You’ll get to Shotley Bridge eventually by just keep turning right.
“But the quickest way…” a split-second glance at my gleaming Doc Martens in their Cherry Blossom Regimental High Gloss polish set off by classic bright yellow stitching almost stops his flow… “is the path through the woods just to the left, but it can get muddy in places.” So, shiny shoes, it’s a toss-up between semi-circle tarmac and Devil’s Dip for you two.
This dark and mysterious beer is looking good
The Saturday afternoon session at Snods Edge Beer Festival attracts a mixed crowd
“We try and put on a mix of traditional and more modern beers,” says Nigel Cook, chairman of the local parish council and member of St John’s Church Hall committee where the beer festival is held. “This year we have a special Mild, a traditional English Ale, a Porter, a Best Bitter and a Brown Ale. The more ‘modern’ beers include a couple of Pale Ales, a Hazy Pale and Hazy IPA as well as Allendale Brewery Lumen Tropical IPA which is the highest strength beer of the festival at 5.5% abv. We try and keep them to a sensible level though, so drinkers can enjoy all we have on offer.
“The beer festival is a key event for us and important for raising funds to support the hall as well as other local charities.”
I take Nigel’s advice and ‘tick’ Northern Alchemy Brewery John Barleycorn, a nut-brown recreation of a 1920s Mild (4.8% abv).
Gordon Mitchell and John Foreman created ‘The Snods’ Beer Festival in 2011 with an insistence that all the beers had to be indigenous to the North East – and even the food has to have a local flavour. Sausages are from the Northumberland Sausage Company, for instance, and bread buns are baked in nearby Consett, County Durham.
John Foreman says: “The event was chosen to tie in with St John’s Church’s harvest festival and to celebrate the brewers’ craft. Nigel took over the organisation side when we ‘retired’.”
Surrounding me is a particularly friendly lot, all eager to please, to make strangers feel welcome and different from the usual volunteers at a beer festival in that it’s a rural community coming together in common pursuit, rather than dyed-in-the-wool beer folks. This Saturday afternoon session has attracted more of a mature following while obviously Friday and Saturday evenings are going to be different, but people seem eager to come from miles around to support the venture. Let’s face it, The Snods is probably well down on the list of a young person’s weekend priorities, so it’s a delight to see visitors of all ages wrapped up in enthusiasm.
A match between Snods Edge FC (blue) and Sunderland Samba FC. Wembley it’s not but the game is played with as much passion and enthusiasm.
Photo: Snods Edge Football Club
I catch a volunteer’s attention. “Hadrian Border Fuggled, please.” I might have to get some more beer tokens. Then I take a fancy to Flying Gang Cat’s Whiskers, a New England IPA (4.5% abv) as all proceeds from the sale are going to local girls’ grassroots sport.
Eventually, evening beckons and I opt for the semi-circular path to Shotley Bridge and my transport of delight. Of course, I take a wrong turning. The lane to my right appears to narrow after a hundred yards while straight on looks highway-like by comparison.
I end up in a cow-patted farmyard – oh no, my yellow stitching – and retrace increasingly tipsy steps.
I catch up with a young man and his girlfriend, both heading for the festival. I learn he plays for Snods Edge FC who compete in the North East Christian Fellowship League. Judging by the exposed position of the home pitch with wind and rain regularly bleaching horizontal swaths down the valley from the undulating A68, there’s a backlog of prayers for sunny weather going unanswered.
I congratulate myself for avoiding Devil’s Dip and hope it’s one of those live-tracking, wifi-enabled, comfy, air-conditioned buses that’s approaching the stop. Much as I loved the beer, a Hot Wired Tuk Tuk is not what I'm waiting for right now.