Welcome to the electric afterglow of your childhood convenience store run—only now, everything is fermented, elevated, and vaguely existential. Today’s Peaks & Pints Sunday Beer Flight is a liquid love letter to soda nostalgia refracted through the blissed-out, small-batch lens of modern craft. This is Craft Soda Vibes, Evolved—a five-glass carbonated neon-dream that begins with two seltzered-up miracles from Sig Brewing and concludes in creamsicle canonization. Welcome to Peaks & Pinks Sunday Beer Flight: Craft Soda Vibes, Evolved.
Peaks & Pinks Sunday Beer Flight: Craft Soda Vibes, Evolved
Sig Brewing Did I DEW That?!
6% ABV
Behold: Did I DEW That?!, the lemon-lime fever dream you swore off in high school but are now inexplicably ready to re-embrace—this time as a 6% hard seltzer feverishly reborn by Sig Brewing and Vice Beer, like a soda-pop séance in a Tacoma brew lab. This is not your uncle’s Mountain Dew, nor is it a frat-boy misfire in a gas station parking lot. This is dew, distilled. Neon citrus. Carbonated nostalgia. A tongue-zap of lime and luminous memory, climbing its way up your spine like a sugar-coated spirit guide. It doesn’t whisper; it shouts in Nintendo startup tones. It’s a can of childhood joy wrapped in adult alchemy, fizzing with equal parts regret, wonder, and an inexplicable craving for rollerblades and fluorescent tank tops. Of course you DEW. You always did.
Sig Brewing Did I DEW That?! Baja Burst
6% ABV
And then—because Tacoma demands it, because the gods of neon nostalgia demand it—Sig Brewing did the only logical thing: they Baja’d the Dew. Did I DEW That?! Baja Burst is the tropical lucid soda vision of your youth, resummoned as adult sacrament—a blue-green blur of citrus, lime, maybe melon, maybe magic, brewed with Vice Beer and humming with beachside mischief. It’s like someone took that mythical Taco Bell soda fountain, lit a votive candle beneath it, and whispered: “What if this got you buzzed on purpose?” This is Baja as rite of passage. A liquid remix of sun-faded memories and artificial tides, so fizzy, so weirdly familiar, it bypasses your rational brain and tickles something behind your third eye. Drink it cold. Drink it fast. Pretend it’s still summer 2003 and your flip phone just vibrated.
Anderson Valley Briney Melon Gose
4.2% ABV
Enter the melon shrine. Anderson Valley’s Briney Melon Gose is not so much a beer as it is a sunlit incantation of salt, rind, and wild desire—an electrolyte daydream wrapped in watermelon whispers and the faint tang of summer sin. It arrives tart, like a citrus slap in a fruit stand confession booth, then leans gently toward a saline sigh, clean and crisp as a river stone in your mouth. This is where childhood watermelon Jolly Ranchers get reborn with purpose and the word “gose” becomes something you moan rather than say. It’s hydrating. It’s disorienting. It’s the flight’s holy center of gravity, where all that citrus seltzer chaos begins to make deeply refreshing sense.
Mother Earth Cali Creamin’ Orange Vanilla
5% ABV
And now the creamsicle cometh. Mother Earth’s Cali Creamin’ Orange Vanilla is the backyard daydream you didn’t know you missed—pure Orange Julius reverie, run through a San Diego sunbeam and blessed by the gods of lactose and Madagascar vanilla. It pours golden, glows softly, and tastes like the memory of summer vacation filtered through a 5% ABV halo. Orange zest zips in first, fast and flirtatious, then the vanilla wraps around it like silk sheets at a roadside motel you swear you’ll never admit to. It’s not cloying. It’s not childish. It’s a grown-up creamsicle in beer form, equal parts nostalgia and adult indulgence, riding the creamy edge between dessert and devotion. This isn’t beer—it’s a soft-serve love letter in a taster glass.
Great Notion Orange Creamsicle Fruit In A Can
6% ABV
This is not a beer. This is an event. Great Notion’s Orange Creamsicle Fruit In A Can is what happens when citrus goes to finishing school, flunks out for being too delicious, and runs away to join the milkshake circus. It arrives thick as smoothie sin, a radiant swirl of Cara Cara orange and vanilla cream that doesn’t just whisper “creamsicle”—it howls it from a neon dreamscape lined with push-pop altars and lactose reverence. This is dessert in defiance, a tart-sweet delirium in a glass that blurs the sacred line between pastry sour and melted popsicle séance. It coats. It cuddles. It confounds. And just when you think it’s gone too far, it nudges you again with citrus velvet and says: “Yeah, you’re going to want another sip.”
✨ And so…
You’ve never soda’d like this. You’ve never beer’d like this. And yet here we are—five pours deep into a sparkling sugar-drenched blur of salt, fruit, fizz, and ferment. Drink up, sugar wizard. Reality can wait.
LINK: Peaks & Pints beer and cider cooler inventory
