Greg Bitterman

Crusty old bartender


“I can talk about three things all day: tunes, bikes, or sippin’ whiskey. Which leaves not one second for sixty-year-old, half-baked jungle bullshit.”


Greg Bitterman doesn’t talk about Vietnam because “nothing happened worth wasting an honest man’s breath on.” He served his country, he wore a funny little green hat, he lost a best friend and an arm in the same mine blast. He’s over it.

Drifting after the war on his motorbike (a very sweet 1946 Indian Chief now on display at the ill), he took a foreman job at a Ukiah sawmill to pay the bills, and ended up making enough to buy an old hunting lodge, which he turned into a bar and grill. Greg married a migrant worker’s daughter named Marta, who made miracles in his kitchen until her untimely death from cervical cancer in the latter days of 2011. They fostered half a dozen kids, but never could conceive.

Greg Bitterman minds his own business, goes to Church every Sunday, votes Democrat, smokes pot for his arthritis, and has a world-famous taste for whiskey. Distillers from across the US and Canada send him sample bottles just to get his thoughts. He hosts a weekly radio show, “Old-Fashioned: Whiskey and Bitterman,” where he plays classic rock, folk, and country, and talks about booze.

He keeps a 44 Magnum behind the counter and he can still aim just fine.


Mudd took up working for Bitterman shortly after accruing a massive (unjustified) debt. Greg tries to get Mudd more interested in whiskey, and to not just look at the alcohol content. While Mudd sneaks bear as much as he can, he considers it payment after all since people just don’t tip him as much.

Greg Bitterman

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