Where am I, which way is up? Every direction I look I see raw wood blasted by sunlight.  Buildings under heavy construction explode with light and it’s easy to lose your bearings. The exposed OSB sheeting and 2x4 rafters of Odell Brewing Company’s current expansion directly above my head look golden, right down to the screws. To anyone outside passing by on the street, it might be just another construction site in Developing USA—heaps of materials scattered about, dumpsters trailing tattered plastic wrap, numerous men perched high atop strange armatures—but to me it’s old meets new and too many questions in-between. I’d ridden my bicycle by the construction at least a dozen times, always staring intently at the work, and finally had to be inside, looking out, to find out how the building was being made.

Odell’s new building contains an amazing array of engineering twists and turns to make it fit the existing building, and employs both simple and highly sophisticated technology to tone down the impact on natural resources and the nearby neighborhood.  Odell’s is rightfully proud of their new space, but they’re too busy with the actual work to wave it around like underpants on a clothesline. The workday is winding down as I follow Brendan McGivney, Head of Production and Project Leader for the expansion, through a labyrinth of corridors and enormous rooms and numerous instances of creative arrangements to make things work. For a man who’s been working two full-time jobs for the last few years, he is remarkably composed and relaxed as we climb ladders, walk on newly welded metal platforms, and discuss the intricacies of marrying new buildings to old. Buildings learn, Stewart Brand has said, and the building I’m navigating is a farm hand off to get his PhD.

Pallet upon pallet of German tile made specifically for breweries sits off to the right as we walk toward the fermentation cylinders. I pick up a tile and it feels like gravity condensed. It’s pleasing to hold and contemplate, it lures you into thinking about sustainability simply because it feels like it will last—how could it not, it feels heavier than steel? Odell’s decided to forego the costly and lengthy LEED certification process, choosing instead to spend the money on sourcing materials locally (think Loveland sandstone) and eco-technology. The 80’ x 155’ room next door will be covered entirely by photovoltaic cells, generating roughly 40% of their current energy usage. Overhead, solar tubes let in an amazing amount of daylight.  In the far room, the cooler, they’ll refrigerate the beer using air from the outside—when the seasons allow. There is more than one way to be sustainable, and more than one way to spend money. To hope is to know that there are things in this world like daylight harvesting, and to know there are things made by people who want them to last.

The expansion is not about brewing more beer, necessarily, but about brewing beer in different ways. With new processes like barrel aging and bottle conditioning a focus for Odell’s, their existing building was too small. Odell’s potential capacity will increase, no doubt, and with the current expansion they’re looking 20 years into the future—thank God we’ll still have beer in 20 years!—but for now, they’re happy with their place in the still-expanding universe of craft beer. The new fermentation cylinders are a centerpiece of the expansion—huge stainless steel cylinders housed inside instead of out, in order to be less of a nuisance on the near-bye neighborhood, and soon-to-be surrounded by all that luxurious German tile. When completed, the room will glow with the words industrial and earth finally making sense together.

Outside the walls of the brewery, things are just as interesting. Odell’s spent a considerable amount of money utilizing porous pavers instead of paving their parking lot—pavers dispense rain and snow run-off more effectively, are more aesthetically pleasing, and make for a better space for outdoor events. Earthen berms were constructed around the parking lot and new south facing patio, and existing trees were saved during construction, and replanted on top of the berms. McGivney was quick to point out that with the expansion, Odell’s really wants to extend downtown, and by that I took him to mean the cultural happenings, the opportunities for people to interact and flourish in the bright sunshine. The culture surrounding beer in Fort Collins is vibrant and growing, a true cornerstone of the city.

With an expected completion date of February 2010, Odell’s new building only gets to be inside out for so long. Eventually walls get closed in, insulation sealed, welds finished off. Workmen move on, staff move in, beer gets made, and invoices get processed. Some buildings learn as they need to, as with this expansion. The transition from old to new is not seamless, but Odell’s thought long-term, and with the community in mind.  Some buildings are forced into awkward adolescence almost immediately and as a result wear a perpetual real estate sign. Odell’s has expanded five times since they started in 1989, and they seem adept at slow, organic growth. Constantly experimenting with their beers, and their building, seems to fit their personal approach to business. What will the next twenty years hold?

Photos by Todd Simmons and Kris Hite