“India pale ale,” my cousin Lovibond tells me in her indescribable accent. “For two hundred years, it is the darling of British beer aficionados. Not a nice beginning, helping Britain to colonize India, but the ale itself is marvelous.”

I agree about India Pale Ale being marvelous. IPA’s (an abbreviation Lovi never uses) have long been my favorites. Why, I’ve always wondered, the name India Pale Ale? Just now I’ve gotten a clue about the “India” part, but what about the “pale”? IPA’s are typically amber to copper in color, and what does colonization have to do with it?

My cousin explains. “It is the malts that are pale, not the beer,” she says. “The color, it is brilliant and clear in the India Pale Ale. From England to India it was a long trip by sea, and the British colonists, they did not trust the water for drinking in India. Beer was safer.”

She asks me to picture this: a four to five month ocean voyage, crossing the equator twice as the pale ale ferments. The boat, and with it the fermenting beer, rolls and jostles with the ocean weather, yeasts excited into greater activity with each equatorial warming.

This long, optimized fermentation of the original IPA’s produced a spectacularly bitter brew. Although still characterized by bitterness, most IPA’s now are about half as bitter as those pale ales of the 1800’s. Yet from the start, India pale ale was immensely popular with the British, as they have become with Americans in the past decade or so.

“Lovi,” I tell her, “I am really looking forward to this Tasting. But in this weather, it’s hard to be inside. Let’s do a picnic.”

Spring in northern Arizona is a fine time to be out enjoying good beer in the sunshine, particularly near the water. A picnic on the river sounds perfect, so this time we will carry our Tasting choices with us. We decide to paddle a section of the Verde to find just the right place. But first is the decision about which India pale ales to Taste.

The first choice is easy, since Lovibond, still excited about exploring the beers of the western US, has been eager to try our local Ponderosa IPA from Prescott Brewing Company. Going to a brewery to get fresh beer is a first for me, so I am pleased to find bottles and nifty glass jugs of Ponderosa IPA available. I learn that the term “growler,” which now applies to these glass jugs, is an original American slang term for the pails or buckets in which folks brought their beer home from the saloon.

For our second choice, we browse the fine selection at the liquor store. With a picnic on our minds we choose the bottle showing the pastoral scene with a moose sipping from a pond. Anderson Valley Brewing Company’s Hop Ottin’ IPA from Booneville, California looks perfect for taking outdoors.

There are lazy stretches for canoeing along the Verde, and some wild ones, and some in-between. We’ll have beer in the boat so we opt for lazy. A river rich in scenic marvels, the Verde is a fine place to meander, watching birds and looking for animals among the bluffs and banks. We find the perfect picnic spot, with cottonwoods for scattered shade and rocks just right for sitting on and using as tables. The flavors of our al fresco meal seem intensified by the setting, and our food disappears quickly. My cousin, who never drinks beer from the bottle, brings from the boat two heavy, clear glass goblets. They sparkle in the sun and look like a still life picture on the rock, particularly when we pour the ales.

The bright quality characteristic of India Pale Ale also shows up gloriously. Hop Ottin' pours clear and effervescent, a gentle amber, Ponderosa IPA only slightly deeper amber and not quite as sparkling. Each has a fine-looking ivory-color head with those many-sized bubbles that hint at a complex beer. Tiny bubbles rise continuously from the bottom of the glass of Hop Ottin’, catching the light.

Breathing in the aromas, I find a fresh, piney note in the Ponderosa. Hop Ottin’ has a more floral or citrus quality, and a much stronger bouquet. Both have attractive lacing, but the Hop Ottin’ leaves interesting shapes on the side of the glass, more like islands on a map or clouds in the sky than lace. Lovi and I spend some time swirling the ale and naming the shapes that emerge.

Ah, that first attentive sip outdoors on a sunny day! My first impression of Hop Ottin’ is once again of brightness. While it is strong and very hoppy, it gives an impression of being light. Citrus and floral tones come through, with some pine and pear undertones. The hops and malts are nicely balanced, with the resin taste of a good IPA lingering on. The mouthfeel is creamy, but just a tiny bit soapy, the only thing not crisp about this ale.

The Ponderosa is also strong and hoppy, but sweet. The piney aroma introduces a richness that brings to mind the irresistible butterscotch scent of ponderosa pine bark. This IPA seems denser, more full-bodied. Sweetness balances the bitterness, bridged by a note of grapefruit. Oddly, like in the Hop Ottin’, I notice a hint of soapiness between the taste and the smooth mouthfeel. The finish and aftertaste are appropriately, and very pleasantly, piney.

Lovibond is impressed by these American IPA’s. “Very different, I find, from British India Pale Ale, that is bitter without the flavors and good smells.” She rates the Ponderosa at a 7.5, a little put off by the sweetness that she says is a bit much for a pale ale, and the Hop Ottin’ an 8.

We gather up our picnic things and head back to the canoe. It has been one of those wonderful days, as balanced as a good beer. Because Lovibond is feeling totally satisfied with what may be American brewing’s peak accomplishment, she suggests I try a beer style for which Europe, in particular Bohemia, holds highest place.

“Next time,” she says, “We Taste pilsner.”