A blackberry-and-raspberry sour reflects a brewery more interested in refinement than reinvention…
The release of Y.E.S. V7 doesn’t arrive with fireworks or a countdown clock. It shows up the way releases used to, casually, confidently, and without asking for permission to exist. This week, Log Tavern Brewing rolled out the latest entry in its Yeti Experimental Sours series at its Tafton taproom, offering a blackberry-and-raspberry kettle sour that feels less like a flex and more like a continuation of an idea the brewery has been refining for years.
The sour beer that keeps changing…
Y.E.S. V7, short for Yeti Experimental Sours, Version 7, is not a new beer. Not really. It’s more of an ongoing evolution. At 7% ABV with restrained bitterness, it’s a fruited sour designed to let the blackberry and raspberry lead, without burying the drinker under aggressive acidity or gimmicks. The fruit comes through clearly, the tartness stays controlled, and the beer settles into something approachable rather than confrontational. This is a beer meant to be poured twice in the same visit, not analyzed ounce by ounce.
That distinction matters. In a craft beer landscape obsessed with novelty, louder flavors, stranger adjuncts, bigger swings, Y.E.S. V7 opts for familiarity and refinement. The Yeti Experimental Sours series has become one of Log Tavern’s most reliable through-lines, with version numbers signaling continuity rather than spectacle. Each release is an adjustment, not a reinvention, a reflection of a brewing philosophy that values curiosity without chasing trends for their own sake.
That philosophy starts with Ryan Scott, Log Tavern’s owner/brewmaster. As he’s previously discussed, Scott has resisted being boxed into a single style or direction. His approach has always been to experiment, to follow trends just far enough to understand them, then bend them into something that still feels personal. Quality, in that sense, isn’t defined by shock value, but by whether the finished beer feels complete, something he’d actually want to drink, and serve, more than once.
The Yeti on the V7 label helps communicate that mindset. Sunglasses on, pouring liquid with cartoon seriousness, it functions less as a gimmick and more as shorthand. Regulars know what they’re ordering before the can cracks open. In a subtle way, that branding acts as a promise: this will be experimental, but not reckless; playful, but still grounded.
The Tafton location…
Log Tavern has been in Tafton since 2024. The building itself, symmetrical, wood-forward, anchored by a massive stone chimney, feels like it belongs in the wilderness surrounding it. It offers damn fine beer-drinking scenery.
The brewery opened its original taproom in Milford in November of 2018, establishing a relaxed, rustic space that quickly became a community anchor in Pike County, not because it was flashy, but because it felt necessary. Calm. Familiar. The kind of place people returned to without needing a reason.
Tafton, by contrast, is about environment. It draws lake traffic, families, weekend crowds, and people looking to turn a beer into an afternoon. It’s looser by design, making it a natural home for rotating and experimental releases. Milford feels like roots. Tafton feels like breathing room.
Within the Pocono Mountain craft beer scene, Log Tavern occupies a steady middle ground. It isn’t chasing trends, but it isn’t stuck in place either. The lineup spans styles, from hazy session IPAs and Mexican lagers to wheat beers and long-running sour series, without feeling scattered. Repetition here isn’t stagnation; it’s refinement.
Back to the beer…
Y.E.S. V7 fits neatly into that approach. The fruit profile is bright without being cloying. The acidity supports instead of dominating. And while the ABV sits higher than many casual sours, it never announces itself. The beer unfolds gradually, the kind of pour you look down at midway through and realize you’ve been drinking more thoughtfully than you intended.
In the end, Y.E.S. V7 isn’t about surprise. It’s about continuity. About a brewer who still loves the process enough to keep experimenting, a brewery comfortable letting ideas evolve in public, and spaces designed for people rather than spectacle. In a scene that often confuses noise for progress, that kind of confidence still matters.
