I've been studying at Rice University on and off since I started law school three years ago. But never did I know that they were hiding not one, but TWO pubs on campus. One is easy to find. It's in the basement of the student center and is intended to be the "undergrad" hangout.

The other pub, however, took more work to find. I had only heard rumors of it from a friend, who only heard rumors of it from a friend on his Ultimate Frisbee league. This other pub was named Valhalla, which brought to mind Norse mythology, Vikings, horns, swords, plunder, blond women, gigantic ships, and beer. When one of my study-mates mentioned that we should grab a beer after studying at Rice one day, I remembered that infamous "other" pub. We set out to find this mysterious Valhalla.

Guided only by instructions from a Rice student and our keen second-sense of alcohol, the three of us searched for the pub. We were told to look for a building that looks like a lecture hall (um, this is a university campus) by a bus stop with stairs leading up to the entrance. Except that we're not supposed to take the stairs. We're supposed to proceed around to the side of the building and locate a door leading down into the basement of the lecture hall. There, so said the Rice student, is where we will find Valhalla - the "grad student" pub. I liked it already. Grad students. People who were as jaded about education as were are.

We expected to need a password, maybe a special saying, like at a speak-easy, to gain admittance to the pub. You know - knock twice, scratch three times, pound with your fist. Maybe we'd have to bring booty from our last voyage.

Valhalla was exactly where it was supposed to be, and it looked exactly how I had imagined. It was kind of dark, it smelled of old building, beer, and maybe some BO. It was small, there were pictures on the wall of various Valhalla partiers and Rice events dating back to the 19-teens, including photos of JFK's famous moon speech at Rice Stadium and the G7 Summit. And there was, of course, a Viking helmet displayed in a glass case at one end of the room. The curved ceiling and old piano in the corner buried beneath various board games and knick-knacks completed the experience. We had found it - Valhalla was ours.

Not really. But it was fun. The beer selection was excellent, as were the prices. $1.25 for St. Arnold draft? Done. $2 for Blue Moon? Deal. I handed the proprietress a credit card. She looked at it, looked at me, and said, "Oh, this is Valhalla. Cash only." Of course. Let me go find some gold coins I picked up in Newfoundland.

While there, my friend struck up a conversation with an older couple sitting at the end of the bar by themselves. We got to talking, and turns out they had been Valhalla patrons for 25 years, and had owned Shakespeare's Pub in Houston for 16, having recently sold it.

Go on - check out Valhalla for yourself. If you can find it.