When I last updated you it was Friday night, and i was heading into Bardstown, KY (voted the most beautiful small town in America last year) to check out the night life.
Bardstown is a beautiful small town – picturesque buildings, parks, etc. An oasis.
The guide at Willett’s had told me there were 2 places in town where the locals drank:
I was warned that Manny’s as the place the younger generation went and could get a little crazy late, so the 3rd st Taphouse it was. Relatively quiet when I got there, I picked a spot at the bar and perused a surprisingly wide and good selection of beers. I was a little socialised out so was happy to mind my own business for the main part.
It was a stranger who broke the silence, commenting on my glasses (thanks Kate). Soon enough we got to talking, and before you knew it were into a long conversation. Her friends were not particularly impressed, as I was receiving the lion’s share of her attention, instead of them, and a few glares and not so subtle interruptions ensued, to no avail.
That stranger’s name was Lisa Tatum, a local girl back visiting from up North and having a girl’s night out with her old friends, to whom I was introduced. Soon enough however, Lisa and I were thick as thieves, pretty much ignoring everyone else and getting caught up in the meaning of life, the universe and everything.
Now Lisa is a badass rockstar – smart (she knows what a ketogenic diet is), pretty (duh), with an achievement list as long as your arm, including a world first, in the world of tractor pulling (yes tractor pulling) whilst still appreciating the meditative nature of needlepoint.
Before you all get to excited though, this wasn’t THAT sort of attraction between us – it was just one of those genuinely find a person on the same page as yourself moments, and we were soon confiding secrets to each other like monastic priests finally allowed to speak for the first time. Plus she has a partner, albeit that he was back home and didn’t come back to Bardstown with her.
At some stage her friends left, leaving Lisa to her own devices (I’m sure Millicent, for one, had a few words to say about that later) and I suspect we might have been the topic of some salacious rumours in the local Bardstown community in the coming days.
More beers and conversation ensued, before eventually Lisa headed home, but not before buying a local’s mug for the bar, on which she insisted my name had to appear.
Saturday was chore day – and to be honest I was happy to stay away from alcohol after the previous night. Sunday was another relax – the intention to visits Barton 1792 stymied due to the date, though I did fit in a visit to the Oscar Getz Museum of Whiskey History which is a fascinating collection of items from as far back as pre-prohibition.
I also popped in to 3rd street on that night, where not only was I greeted like a local, given my local mug to drink out of (without asking), but I got to meet Troy Beam, who lives in these parts. Great place.
Lisa and I caught up to say goodbye Sunday night, with an offer to take me to the local Teppanyaki restaurant, (aka a Hibachi grill over here) before world class Margerita’s at the local Mexican place (where she and her family are well known)
With an early start required the next morning to get to the Independent Stave tour at 9.30, this meant only 2 drinks and a trip to Hotel Walmart for a good sleep.
But that’s not how it went.
Within a few hours I was feeling a little seedy, then actually ill, before vomiting for the first time in the States. That was soon followed by another bout, then another, and my other purging orifice soon joined the party.
Now I’m at Hotel Walmart, perhaps a 90 second walk inside to the bathroom, but there is no way I can make it inside, so I’m left to poo, pee and throw up into any and every vessel I can find, including plastic bags, bottles and the like.
It was a horrible night – I will spare you some of the more off colour details, but suffice to say I had enough rubbish bags piled onto the back seat to make you think the trash men had been on strike for a month.
When I contacted Lisa the next day to check on her condition, she too had had an upset stomach that night, but put it down to nerves about something else. Nerves, schmerves, she simply got less of the Hibachi poisoned food than I did. I’m hopeful that the family of 5 sitting at our table didn’t also suffer – I can’t imagine trying to look after 3 sick kids under 8 when feeling like I did. Lisa was mortified that she had caused this but she didn’t – it was the restaurant not her cooking.
The 48 hours to Tuesday were a litany of illness, sweat, trying to find a place to deposit bags of waste, showers at Anytime Fitness, more washing of clothes and bed linen and complete and utter exhaustion.
Who said life on the road was glamorous?
Eventually I recovered, and it was on with the trail.
Barton 1792 – a distillery not on the official trail, and located about 2 mins from Bardstown central, it does things a little differently – eg by having fermentation vats that are outside. It’s an interesting tour, but hard to hear the guide over the noise of the distillery. The 1792 has, by the by, nothing to do with when it was founded – it’s just a name the owners came up with (and it links back to the days Kentucky Secession).
Heaven Hill – the 2nd largest producer/storer of barrels behind Jim Beam at around 1 Million, Heaven Hill is around the corner from Willett’s and the comparison is stark. They have a modern “Bourbon Heritage Centre” aka a visitor’s centre with vast amounts of displays and interactive quizzes etc. Somehow it left me a little cold, and given the parlous state of my digestive tract I opted not to go on the tasting or the wider distillery tour, so I find it hard to make a judgement.
Independent Stave – not a distillery, but the cooperage that provides new white oak barrels to nearly all bourbon producers (a few make their own but they are in the vast minority). This is an absolute MUST – watching the entire process from tree to stave to charring to barrel is fascinating. Unfortunately no photos/vidoe are allowed which adds to the must do in person visit. They don’t reveal production figures but between Heaven Hill and Jim Beam they must make at least 2 Million barrels, let alone for all the others. And it’s still predominantly done by hand (with a little machine help).
Maker’s Mark – perhaps the one dearest my heart as the bourbon I grew up with, it is also the prettiest distillery on the trail (Woodford running a close second). Set in beautiful lands, the tour is charming – for example, the crinkle cut labels are made by one lady manually running an old fashioned press. The distillery is outstanding – modern yet quaint (if that’s possible) and the guide delightful. Close to my favourite (but it’s a bit like picking a favourite child so…)
Around the corner from Maker’s is Limestone Branch distillery. Not on the official trail, they predominantly make flavoured moonshines, and have recently extended into small batch bourbon (maybe 6 barrels a week in production). Owned and operated by Stephen Beam, one of the last direct descendants, who realised that he need to at least try and keep the owner/operator legacy going. I spent an hr and a half there, chewing the fat with their head of production (an ex BMW production manager) and their distiller’s apprentice who took us on a little walk around the back room plant. As such a small place, everything is intimate and personal, so this is ridiculously good value and fun.
I had an overnight stop in Frankfort, Kentucky’s capital, and a friendlier place I could not have found. Sitting street side with a glass of wine and some cheese, I must have met half a dozen different people walking dogs, all of whom stopped to say hi, introduce their pet and just chew the fat. I won’t prolong this post any more than that, but if you ever are in the vicinity check it out – perhaps the most welcoming places I’ve been to and a dog lover’s haven.
Just outside of Frankfort is another large distillery who have opted out of the formal trail, Buffalo Trace. Again I had the luxury of being the only one on the early tour, and as is always the case in such circumstances spent more time talking with my guide than being guided by him. I loved this place – and it is home to one of the most incredible experiments where the same distilled spirit is bottled in barrels made from different parts of the same tree for different times to see if they can unlock the mysteries of ageing. Mighty fine bourbon too – if you find it grab a bottle – it’s America’s most award winning distillery and it shows.
From here it was on to Wild Turkey. Without a shadow of a doubt the single most disappointing and horrid tour on the trail. I emailed them soon after – the full text available here. Enough said and I won’t belabour the point, except to ask you to find any other bourbon on the market to drink.
Next was Woodford Reserve. Located in the heart of horse farms, it is beguilingly beautiful, rivalling Makers for viusal delights. Woodford is different – they are the only distillery to distill 3 times (not just 2) and they use 3 pot stills (rather than a continuous operation column still) which means they must have downtime for cleaning. With Willett’s they are the only distillery to have an old fashioned barrel roll to transport barrels to the rickhouse. And their tasting is the best on the trail – it is a properly guided tasting with taste wheels etc. Absolutely brilliant place, in an incredible setting. The closest thing to Craft distilling at a commercial scale.
With 1 last place to visit, and being St.Patrick’s day it was time to head back North a little towards Lexington, KY.
This time, Garmin’s idea of “avoiding highways” was rewarding – I was taken down narrow roads, surrounded by green horse farms on a beautiful sunlit day. Perhaps the travel gods were making up for that unfortunate meal.
I didn’t get to the last stop on the trail, Town Branch Bourbon, until after St Patrick’s day, but for completeness I’ll update it here. Located in the middle of Lexington, it’s more brewery than distillery, or at least a 50/5 combination of the two, so It’s a little out of place. This is where you can most clearly see places on the trail are purchased rather than chosen. It’s nothing special, without being rude, it’s nice and pleasant but lacks depth. They also distill malt whiskey and rum here so the bourbon part of the tour is a little disjointed and glossed over. A bit meh, but at least now I can get the t-shirt.
This has been a long exploration of bourbon and the trail, which some of you may not appreciate or drink, but in addition to learning more about bourbon than I ever thought possible, the trail has also told a tale of a tight knot community, where everyone knows everyone, competes with them but in a friendly way, and most (if not all) are respectful to each other and the craft. I heard tales of how other distillers offered help to a distiller that suffered a fire, one that lost rickhouses to a tornado.
Whilst the “innocence” of the trail is a little sullied by virtue of it’s “paid for” membership, it is still one of the great attractions in the world – revealing love, charm, history, knowledge, folklore and stories over a week of gentle travelling.
If you can ever find the time, it’s an absolute highlight, and one Kentucky and America should be proud of.
Next – Sweet Home Alabama and the deep south.
