Recently Don and I checked out The Dugout Bar, in Superior. We were feeling adventurous, and wanted to check out something new. At the same time, we knew at the end of 2008, our favorite bar (The Viking in Superior), would be disappearing. So we were looking for a replacement for The Viking. The Capri (affectionately known by us as “The Crap”) is too dude-errific to replace The Viking. The Anchor is too busy. The Belknap–as wonderful as it is–is also too busy and just doesn’t vibe the same as The Viking. What The Viking projects for an atmosphere can’t be captured by too many other establishments in the area. Except for The Dugout, we discovered.
The Dugout is a smallish bar, as long as an old brownstone building that inhabit Superior’s tower avenue, and about half as wide. It’s a simple bar. A pool table, two dart machines, an old juke box, and an ornate bar that is almost a throw back to the Speakeasy bars of yesteryear. There’s nothing elaborate about The Dugout: it’s simple layout and inadvertently-retro decor (Packer’s banners from the 80s, old beer lights, etc), and it’s terrific bartender, Forrest.
Forrest is just a regular guy. He’s the bartender you’d see in the movies that open in a bar. A friendly, down-to-earth guy who loves nothing more than to tell you a story and make you feel at ease for the night. At the same time, Forrest comes across as the guy that you don’t want to have to deal with should a fight or scuff break out. But that’s a non-issue when you take in the clientèle at The Dugout.
The patrons of The Dugout vary in all ages and walks of life. Young people, old people. Dock workers, clericals. But everyone of these people, no matter how incompatible in normal life, are here at The Dugout for one reason: to have a good time. This automatically makes the environment in The Dugout relaxed. Although when Don and I walked into The Dugout for the first time, it was one of those moments where the record scratches to a halt and everyone stops what they are doing to look up at you. After we ordered a beer from a non-caring Forrest, however, it was back to normal. And when we walked into The Dugout the second time–in all seriousness–no one even batted an eye. Forrest even remembered us:
“Hey, you guys are the guys that drank all our Coors Light and were here with those athletic trainers from Stillwater.”
“Actually, it was Mankato, Forrest, but incredible memory,” I replied.
“What?” said Forrest.
“Nothing, let’s drink,” I answered.
As Forrest got us our $2.50 cans of Coors Light, Don and I relived the story of our first visit to The Dugout with the athletic trainers from Mankato. I had recognized them from long ago when I frequented Mankato State University. Don and I were sitting by the door, backs to the wall. The two from Mankato walked in, and I recognized them. I said “hey guys, whats up” and they nodded–obviously not recognizing me. Before I could say anything else, one of the Mankato individuals started handing me his I.D. I looked at Don to see what was going on, and he was taken aback, but I knew what he would want me to do.
So I carded the kid.
I told him it was a fake I.D., because it was a Wisconsin license, and he obviously lived in Mankato. He looked extremely confused. Then I explained myself. Everyone busted out laughing–I wasnt’ really a bouncer–except for the two from Mankato. They went off and got drinks. A classic Dugout moment was hatched.
Getting back on track, prices at The Dugout seem reasonable as well. I believe it’s $2.50 for a can of Coors Light. You can leave the loose change for Forrest, but usually all he does is take it and put it towards a $10 or $15 collection for the jukebox, so people can just walk up and select whatever songs they want for free. A great idea, if you ask me, because you’ll hear one of the most motherfucking eclectic mix ever when this occurs. $10 of free songs in a juke with a mishmash of patrons makes for one helluva interesting night. From the club music, to screaming death metal, to Elvis and George Straight, it’s all on there. And Forrest doesn’t mind, either. He even says that some of the rap and “boom-thump” songs, as he calls them, are enjoyable to him.
I unfortunately have no other drink to draw a comparison in prices with at the Dugout, because all we drank there was Coors Light (until we drank them out the first time, in which we switched to Black Bullets). But knowing the cheap cost of Coors, and Forrest’s friendly and just-have-fun-here attitude, it can’t be very much.
The Dugout, we’ve deemed, is an excellent replacement for The Viking. While it will never be The Viking, it will fill the void that will be left at the end of the year. And The Dugout will create its own memories. Like the Mankato guys thinking I’m a bouncer, and me playing it off with Anthony Hopkins-esqe coolness. Or the time we went there after starting drinking at 3:30 in the afternoon. The Dugout will no doubt fill the void for bar comfortability and bar friendliness, and in good time, will become the stuff of legend that The Viking is and always will be.
That’s the State of the Bar for The Dugout.