All cars are fast. Even the diesel Volvo I had back in the 1980s would do 90 on a straight stretch of highway ... with a tailwind. But a Mini Cooper, chipped and tuned, (Read “Soup Up Your Car With Software”) is a whole other breed of fast: zing, zoom, laugh-out-loud fast.

Likewise, all beer is refreshing. Even sipping the deep, dense, malty heft of a Traquair House Ale by the fire as sleet pecks at the window refreshes your soul, if not your palate. But a cold, hazy glass of witbier, brisk and spicy, is the kind of extra beer refreshment you need for the long, hot summer: zing, zoom, laugh-out-loud refreshment.

Here, then, is a guide to finding the right beer—beers—for the season: beach beers, grilling beers, and “man, it sure is hot today” beers. They’re not for hoisting and singing, or sipping and reflecting. Summer beers are for cold, thirst-slaying revitalization. The beers that have evolved to meet that need are enjoyable year-round, but they’re optimal for hot-weather quaffing.

To tune a beer for summer, brewers can strip it down. Putting in less malt means less alcohol, so you can safely consume a bit more. It also means less of the unfermentable sugars that bulk up the beer’s body, so the drink is lighter going down. They can add zesty hops or spices to put a quenching edge on the beer, or intentionally sour it to give it a thirst-killing tang. Fizzing up the carbonation makes things snappier.

But if beer refreshment has a turbocharger, it’s wheat. “Wheat beats the heat” is a beer-writing cliché. Fluffy wheat-built beers rely on the lighter body that wheat gives, and on the faintly citric flavor that develops in a wheat beer.

The best known wheatie is hefeweizen (“HEFF-uh-vite-zin”), from the German words hefe, meaning “yeast,” and weizen, meaning “wheat,” and that’s just what the beer is: an unfiltered wheat brew that still has the yeast in it. It’s not just any yeast, either. The traditional Bavarian-style wheat, also known as weissbier, or “white beer,” is brewed with a yeast that develops aromas of bananas, cloves, smoke, plums, vanilla … a complex and quenching blend.

Some folks like these beers garnished with a slice of lemon. A good bartender will ask your preference. Fruit on the plate is another matter: These beers are brilliant with fresh summer fruits and some cheese.

Imported hefeweizens like Franziskaner and Paulaner are widely available. American brewers do traditional versions—Penn Brewing in Pittsburgh makes a classic weiss—and also brew a hybrid style with a much cleaner yeast. These “American hefes,” cloudy and crisp, are most popular on the West Coast, where Widmer Brothers Brewing invented the style in Portland, Oregon.

Berliner weisse is another German wheat that is slowly gaining in popularity in the States. It’s got the summer beer trifecta going: usually less than 4 percent alcohol; a crisp, very fizzy wheat brew; and an intentional tartness from an inoculation with lactic bacteria. The full-on tartness isn’t for everyone, which is why bartenders often cut it with a dollop of syrup in the glass, traditionally raspberry or the herbal woodruff.

A new German import, Weihenstephan 1809, is on the milder side of this style, and is becoming more widely available. But your best bet for finding a Berliner weisse might be a brewpub, where brewers are a bit more adventurous. Nodding Head in Philadelphia goes through a ton of their Ich Bin Ein Berliner Weisse over the summer.

Wheat’s also in the witbier I mentioned above. It’s a Belgian style (witbier is Flemish for “white beer”) that includes raw wheat—an addition that makes the beer lightly cloudy with proteins—and spices, traditionally coriander and bitter-orange peel. The combination makes for a beer with a spicy twist, a citrus twang, and a crisp finish (it’s also a great marinade for grilled chicken; just add a splash of orange juice). Two good ones are the beautifully traditional Allagash White, from tiny Allagash Brewing in Portland, Maine, and the suddenly popular Blue Moon Belgian White, from not-so-tiny Molson Coors.

The favorite summertime drink in Washington, D.C., brewpubs is kölsch (“kuhlsch”), a light, golden, ale-lager hybrid that originated in Cologne, Germany. It’s light, with just a quick wisp of hops and a dry finish. The pleasant, slightly grainy kölsch available at the Capitol City chain of brewpubs keeps things cool in D.C., while you can find Goose Island’s superbly drinkable Summertime in wide distribution—just the thing for cooling the cook while the bratwurst is grilling.

Then there are “extra” pale ales and blond ales, and the various “summer ales”—the sprint cars of beer: light-framed speedsters with just enough hop to keep them on the track. The Steel Rail Extra Pale from Berkshire Brewing’s, out in western Massachusetts, nails the class: light, crisply bitter, and not cloying. Anheuser-Busch has Beach Bum Blonde Ale, a clean refresher with a bright, hoppy edge. They’re both perfect with picnic fare.

Finally, if there’s a reason and a season for light beer, it’s gotta be summer. Try Heineken Premium Light, which actually achieves a taste like Heineken’s, only lighter. One new entry in the class is a love/hate proposition: Miller Chill, a light beer with an addition of lime and salt. I haven’t had an opportunity to try it yet, but at this point it’s looking like a summertime success.

It’s hitting 97 humid degrees as I finish this up. I think I’ll take the hefe out for a drive … in the hammock. Cheers!