Bourbon Trail

This is going to be a history lesson, and if I can find adequate internet, some photographs to accompany that history lesson.  The weather was agreeable, despite the humidity being this side of wet-gym-towel soaked.  I had programed my TomTom GPS, let’s hence forth call him Tom, eh?, to guide me on the Bourbon Trail.  I did a little web surfing to get the addresses and best route, surprising, the biggest distillery I visited, Buffalo Trace, isn’t part of the Bourbon trail—what, didn’t pay into the ad campaign Buffalo?  My trail took me through the scenic and picturesque thoroughbred farms that make Kentucky famous.  One particular farm, Diamond Farms, was absolutely gargantuan.  They must own 10,000 acres, with at least twelve $100,000 stone-gate entrances to $500,000 barns—barns more opulent than most homes.  Makes you want to be a horse.  The first distillery visited today occupies a small plot amongst this thoroughbred country, treed lined, just over the crest of a small hill.  You could fly by it unintentionally, but Tom kept me focused.  Surprisingly small, Woodford Reserve is a classy joint.  Next up, again by way of wonderful twisty roads, was Wild Turkey.  This place occupies a majestic place atop a cliff overlooking some Kentucky river (I’ll have to look it up).  This was my most impressive distillery visit, with the depth and history, and celebrity following.  President Truman, Elvis, and Evil Knievel all found Wild Turkey their favorite.  They offered two rare and special selections, that even Bob would have loved, a 50 year old commemorative and a Wild Turkey 17 yr Masters selection, but I was there before 1200 noon and couldn’t buy either.  It was off to Four Roses.  This distillery operation reminded me of a wine chateau.  It was the most beautiful distillery, and the classiest, it oozed money, old Bluegrass Kentucky wealth.  They even had a Red Hat Lady collection for that famous women’s club keen on antebellum style.  Next it was off to the Bourbon Heritage Center, a.k.a., Heaven Hill, with the most impressive historical displays.  You’ll learn things like, Elijah Craig first charred barrels for storing whiskey, and Evan Williams was the country’s first commercial distiller.  These are valuable facts for critical aspects of life, like Trivial Pursuit and drunken debates at the Vertigo Club.  I stopped by Willet Distillery that appeared to be out of their league, like a double wide manufactured home on Country Club Drive.  Their driveway was still dirt.  A had a little bit of a gap in distilleries that was soaked up by a delectable single lane that wound through the countryside.  I made it to Maker’s Mark, which appeared to be a renovated plantation farm.  They marketed themselves well in the store, but most impressive was the number of massive storage warehouses in town, that you pass en route to the visitor’s center.  I ended my trail there and proceeded to Horse Cave for a night at the KOA.

Two side notes; I rode past a field planted with tobacco, growing for Kentucky Fire-Cured variety, and I saw the biggest wild turkey crossing the road in front of me—this was not an mirage—but how fitting on the day of the Wild Turkey tour.

It was about 60 miles to Horse Cave, 60 miles of Grand Prix tarmac.  I was Valentino Rossi on his Yamaha R1.  What a high!  I was diving into turns and having a blast, god forbid the fool who would touch my brake discs after a day on the Moto GP course.

It was two days without a cigar (having hotel’d it because of the rain) and after one of my best days on the road, I enjoyed a cigar(s) and bourbon, what else.  I did buy a bottle of 97 rated, 95 proof Pikesville Rye but decided to save it for another day.  Now throughout the whole day I thought to myself, only if the guys from Vertigo were here, especially Bob—that bourbon whore.

I’ve got to go and enjoy my bourbon and Eiroa 20th anniversary cigar.