We survived the Keystone Bacon Tour, here's what you missed
The Blue Ribbon Bacon Tour is a festival of all things bacon. Where 3,000 pounds of pork belly are fried up and eagerly gobbled down in five short hours. An event where you’re implored to eat as much bacon as your body can physically handle because, according to festival organizers, "Bacon calories don’t count at 9,280 ft.”
I had to check out this festival because the last time I was invited to eat all the bacon I could, I was banned from Days Inn for life. I've never been able to get my fill since, and this sounded like the only way to satiate a bacon craving without the disapproving glances I've grown accustomed to. Also, I needed to see if the everything-bacon trend, was just a fad, or here to stay. From the looks of this festival, excitment for bacon, just like the 20 extra pounds on festival-goers, isn't going anywhere soon.
I went expecting this to be a chill, little shindig. I didn’t believe they were actually going to fry up 1000 pounds like they advertised. How could they procure, let alone get rid of all that bacon? My entourage was quick to answer, “It’s bacon, it will be easy.”
On Saturday alone, 3,000 lbs of meat candy vanished behind gnashing teeth, people were everywhere and excited as fuck. The tour was all about seeing how far down the bacon hole you could go, which was exemplified by a bacon s'more with bacon, caramel and chocolate filling, topped with marshmallows, whipped cream and bacon sprinkles. Nothing was sacred, and there were no limits to what these porcine pundits would do.
Bacon enthusiasts of all ages stood in the unlimited bacon strip line, licking their greasy chops as other festival-goers milled around with bacon wrapped, dipped and infused everything you could think. The only veggies in sight were pickled and exclusively for the bacon-infused Bloody Marys, that were garnished with a slice of bacon. There was bacon mac’n’cheese, bacon burgers, bacon sushi, bacon caramel apples and bacon cookie sandwiches. If you can think it, there was bacon poking out the sides.
Thousands of people showed up. Translation: really fucking long lines, and constantly being bumped around by the elbows, bellies and back rolls of Colorado’s finest. But, with that level of debauchery, and a reasonable $30 price tag, you couldn’t really be that surprised. Not when you can surround yourself with like-minded people who refuse to be judged for putting down multiple pounds of bacon in one day. This festival is the only chance you’ll ever have to do that, after all. Take advantage while your heart can still take it.
After all was said and done, I've been cured of my bacon obsession for now. It’s going to take months for all the bacon grease to make it out of my system, but I can’t say I’m ashamed. I'll have pork oozing from my pores for days to come, but I learned that when you get the chance to scarf toffee-bacon ice cream, with chocolate, bacon sprinkles, you can't really say, "no." Because, bacon.