Ana Reyes-Whitlock
Founder & Head Brewer
Bought the barn for the water rights. Still writes every recipe, still argues with the cellar crew about lager time, still loses about a third of those arguments.
Wildpine — Brewhouse
Since 2014 · One Stubborn Well
We started on Route 9 with a three-barrel system, a borrowed chiller, and water soft enough for pilsner. We never moved. We just built around the well.
How We Got Here
No investors, no rebrand, no second location. Just a slow argument with a well and a series of increasingly reasonable decisions about tank space.
Ana Reyes-Whitlock and Tom Bray bought the barn at the top of Cutter Road for the water rights, not the building. First batch was a pilsner. It was, by everyone's account, only fine.
Fixed the roof one summer, then spent the entire next year's profit on a proper glycol system. That's the year the lager started tasting like the one in Ana's head.
Sixty seats built out of the old hay floor, one wood stove salvaged from a school. We stopped distributing outside the county for two years just to keep up with the room.
A small canning line went in against our better judgement and immediately proved us wrong. We drew a ninety-mile circle on a map and have not sold outside it since.
The brewhouse runs on what the roof makes. Spent grain goes to two farms down the road, and the wash water goes through a settling pond before it ever sees the brook.
New brewhouse, same water, same four recipes on the board. Four thousand two hundred barrels a year, two-thirds of which never leave the building.
The Brewhouse
A thirty-barrel two-vessel brewhouse, fourteen fermenters, six lager tanks we refuse to turn over faster, and a cold room that costs more to run than the office.
Every recipe starts with what comes out of the ground here — soft, low-mineral ridge water. It's why the pilsner tastes the way it does and why the IPA never turns harsh.
Base malt from a floor maltings ninety minutes north. Hops from three Champlain Valley farms. If we can't visit it in an afternoon, it doesn't go in the mash.
Eight weeks at 34°F on the lager tanks while the beer decides what it wants to be. It costs us tank space we could obviously be using. It is the whole point.
Two-thirds of what we brew never leaves the building. The rest goes to fifty accounts inside a ninety-mile ring. Fresh beer is a logistics problem and this is our answer.
Spent grain to two farms within four miles, hop sludge to the compost pile behind the lot, wash water through a settling pond. The roof covers the brewhouse load.
Who's In The Barn
Everybody here has pulled a hose at 5 am and poured a pint at 9 pm. That's not a philosophy, it's just how many of us there are.
Founder & Head Brewer
Bought the barn for the water rights. Still writes every recipe, still argues with the cellar crew about lager time, still loses about a third of those arguments.
Founder & Operations
Fixed the roof, drew the ninety-mile circle, keeps the delivery van running. Knows every account by the name of whoever signs for the kegs.
Taproom & Kitchen
Runs the room and lights the pizza oven when the mood takes her. Built the spent-grain dough recipe over eleven failed Sundays and won't share it.
Cellar & Packaging
Owns the cold room and the canning line. If a beer goes on tap a week later than planned, it's because Marcus tasted it and said not yet.
Brewhouse Tours
Small groups, closed shoes, no glass on the brewhouse floor. Whoever brewed that week does the talking, which means no two tours are quite the same.
$15
Saturdays · 11 am · 40 minutes
$25
Monthly · 6 pm · 90 minutes
$15
Per head · Tue–Thu · by arrangement
All tours meet by the wood stove in the taproom. Closed-toe shoes are required on the brewhouse floor and we mean it — the floor is wet, sloped, and unforgiving of sandals. Wheelchair access to the brewhouse floor is step-free via the grain bay; tell us when you book and we'll route the tour that way.
The Shelf By The Door
Sold at the bar only — we've never got round to a web shop, and honestly the drive up is half the point. Everything printed within fifty miles.
Heavyweight cotton, the crest screen-printed across the chest. Forest green or oatmeal, XS through 3XL.
$28
Thick-walled stoneware, glazed rust with the crest stamped into the base. Keeps a lager cold longer than it deserves to.
$32
Washed cotton twill, brass buckle, low crown. Moss green with the pine embroidered small on the front.
$26
64 oz amber glass, swing top, the crest etched not printed so it survives the dishwasher. First fill is half price.
$22
Come Up And See
We know which one. Book a Saturday tour, or just turn up when the lights are on and ask whoever's behind the bar what's good today.