1770. A revolutionary spirit echoes through the Hudson Valley. But Rip Van Winkle, beloved ne’er-do-well, meanders through the Catskill mountains. He follows the distant rolling thunder, finding not a storm, but the ghosts of Henry Hudson’s sailors playing ninepins, the Dutch form of bowling. After partaking in the game and in a keg of hard cider, Rip Van Winkle falls asleep, waking years later to find he’s skipped the entire Revolution. He wasn’t one of our country’s founders, but he sure found great taste.