Perched in a strip mall just before the suburbs turn into countryside, Bash Riprock’s is either the last bar of the city or the first bar of the frontier. It betrays no preference: The faux-gas lamps and brick walls mimic an Oregon Trail way station, while the high-backed booths with individual flat-screens scream 21st century city-living. Mostly a sports bar, Bash Riprock’s thrives on the neighborhood folk who stop in for a quick brew and bite while catching a little bit of the game.
