Founders Backwoods Bastard falls into BJCP category 36.9d Fruit of Sir Sean Connery's womb (American), and it is everything you would expect from the style. Full to the eyeballs of whiskey, cigars, and sporting a unique yet iconic speech impediment.
After days of wading through brackish swamps, being completed exsanguinated by mosquitoes, leeches and ticks, and reconsidering your life options, there is but one beer that can quench your mighty thirst - a thirst that can only come from the endless pursuit of something few people care about.
You retire to your tent amidst the teeming rain in order to heat up the last remaining can of beans with pork sausages. Except the gas canister has been leaking so your meal is cold and congealing and you are rapidly developing a headache and mild nausea. Not to mention the imminent risk of explosion and death. You open the esky and spy the last remaining bottle of The Bastard hiding under the containers full of tadpoles. His sunken old man eyes are mocking you. Things are getting faint now; you open the bottle and sup (then die).