Last week there was a rumor going around that we would be seeing the End of the World in the next few days.
So we at Forbidden Hillcrest got our hopes up and started planning for a good old fashioned doomsday. In our apocalyptic joy/panic, we set out looking for a good place to hole up. We knew we had to head for Western Hills.
Western Hills Country Club, that is. It’s an abandoned golf course in the middle of little Rock. Most Hillcrest people have never heard of it because it’s in the Forbidden-Zone (south of 630) but it’s real. Check it out on the Google map below. It’s totally run down and reverting back to wilderness. You can’t see much sign of civilization there. It’s very quiet, feels like it’s out in the country even though it’s in the middle of Little Rock. The place looks like the world already ended a long time ago, so I figured nobody would notice the difference down there. We packed our gear and headed for Western Hills.
Our plan was to hike across the weedy old golf course and find a safe place to brew a vat of mead (honey wine) so we could barter it with the roving bands of maniacs once the End-Times finally came.
Apparently cart paths turn into the Yellow Brick Road if you don’t keep an eye on them.
Sleestaks up ahead? We should have shotguns for this kind of deal. I’ve seen this before. It was in a cartoon, but I saw it.
A very strange tower in the middle of nowhere.
The base of the tower. I have no idea what this was used for. Reminds me of The Fantastic Planet movie though.
This was once the Jewish Country Clubhouse. Methodists ran the Jews off long time ago.
What the hell was going on in here?
We have to clean this place up. We’ll make it our headquarters. Civilization will be restored from here.
We found these mysterious horned fruits growing wild in the divots. Better get these back to the lab and make dip out of them.
A friend’s house was just through the bushes on the 17th fairway. It’s clean. We can hole up here for now to brew our mead.
The honey shot. This is how we make mead.
Stir in water and fermentation nutrient with the honey.
Boil it. Scoop away the froth for clear, uncloudy mead.
Pour the rest into 5 gallon carboy, add lots of water.
Let this cool down, add yeast, install vent cap…wait one month.
We decided just to eat the mysterious fruit. Tasted like cucumbers, only with horns.
Then we enjoyed some vintage mead set aside years ago. A toast: “Here’s to new beginnings. Let the end-times roll!”