Welcome to Canada
I made it to Augusta Regional Airport about an hour before boarding. Security was a breeze (usually is at AGS), so there was lots of time to kill before I was en route to Atlanta. After a few minutes responding to emails on my phone, something peculiar caught my eye. Several rows away, a middle-aged man sat with a life-sized Chucky doll in his lap. At first I wrote it off as a father holding a toy for his child. That assumption quickly vanished when he began methodically stroking the doll’s head and yelling random outbursts like, “Welcome to Canada!” This was going to be one of those flights.
Fortunately, it wasn’t. In fact, it was pretty damn peaceful. The same could be said for my flight from Atlanta to Lexington. Little did I know that my flying luck would change. But more on that later.
I arrived at Blue Grass recharged by a short nap and ready to go. There’s a bit of magic that happens when you step off of a plane in Kentucky. Be it LEX or SDF, it’s the same. I suppose you could call it bourbon mojo. Energized for the evening ahead, I grabbed a lift downtown and checked into the 21C on Main. After a call home, I met my friend Aaron Konen for a short walk to Justins’ House of Bourbon.
Justins’ is a regular stop for me and I often find myself hanging out there when traveling in bourbon country. I love the atmosphere and their bar is the perfect place to try new whiskeys and barrel picks at reasonable prices. But that wasn’t the objective this time. This was about spending time with the gentlemen who’d be selecting barrels for Russell’s Renegades over the next two days. Joining Aaron and I were our friends Wes Milligan, Ben Kurver (who’d traveled from Australia), Kentuckians Lee Delaney, Kenny Mills, Jacob Runge, Kevin Williams, and Justins’ own Ryan Alves, who kindly hosted the event.
After a warm-up round of “Henry & Daisy,” a Camp Nelson E Russell’s Reserve Single Barrel selection courtesy of Caroline Paulus, we welcomed James Symons and Ben Porter of the Woodwork Collective. James and I met last year, and since then have spent a number of months working on a project called Raconteur Rye. It was nice to finally share that special whiskey with palates I trust, and the exceptionally positive feedback was icing on the cake.
Speaking of palates I trust, after a short time chatting and sipping some incredible pours in the speakeasy, Wild Turkey’s “Rye Guy,” Bruce Russell, surprised us with a visit. And right on time, as we’d just popped the cork on a 2004 Wild Turkey 101 Rye. Needless to say, it was delicious and rich – not quite “Christmas Rye” delicious and rich, but close enough. As if that weren’t enough, Wes Milligan cracked the seal on Russell’s Reserve 2003 (a personal favorite).
Our merry group spent the next hour or two doing what whiskey enthusiasts do best – comparing pours, talking about the latest industry happenings, and just having a fun time (responsibly, that is). And, there was plenty of pizza thanks to Ryan. It’s fair to say that when the event was over, everyone left happy with full bellies.
But the night wasn’t over for all of us. It was only over for the smarter ones (and I wasn’t one of those). A little warning – when you walk into a bar called the Stagger Inn with a sign that reads “Country AF,” it might be a good idea to think about how early you need to wake up the next morning. Also, when an establishment serves you Eagle Rare in plastic cups … I think that says enough right there.
For the record, there’s nothing wrong with the Stagger Inn. It’s exactly as advertised and we all had a blast. There was only one thing left to do – no, not sleep. Sleep is for smart people. We’d stop by the Bluegrass Tavern, of course!
After some epic pours at Bluegrass (Russell’s 10/101, CGF, Russell’s 1998, etc.), we called it a night and trekked back to our hotels. We had a big day ahead of us at Wild Turkey and rest would be required. (The smarter ones know.)
Bo Knows Turkey
Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. I think it’s fair to say I’ve had more productive mornings. Be that as it may, there was work to do and people to see in Lawrenceburg. After a brief meetup with Aaron, Ben, Kevin, and Wes in the hotel lobby, we hit the road. Destination: Wild Turkey.
It was a beautiful day – not too chilly, not too warm. We gathered at the Station Master’s House, browsed the wares and hung out with Bo Garrett as we waited for the rest of our group. I took advantage of the downtime to enjoy my breakfast on the porch – a Kroger club soda (thanks again, Bo). But no worries. We were at Jimmy’s house. Things could only get better and that they did.
Before too long, Jacob, Lee, and Ryan arrived. Led by Bo, we hopped into our vehicles and crossed the road to the distillery for a tour. Driving through the grounds, we spotted a new palletized rickhouse, “AA.” We also caught a glimpse of the early stages of the newly announced distillery’s construction. If things go as planned, Wild Turkey’s production will essentially double in the coming years. That’s great news for Turkey fans.
Despite it being somewhat impromptu, the distillery tour was as awesome as ever. This was my third time walking the facility and Bo did a stellar job (always does). Bo’s insight is impressive, but more importantly, it’s delivered from the heart. I’ve toured distilleries all over the country. It’s easy to tell when guides are passionate about their work. Bo’s message is genuine and that’s not something you find everyday – especially in whiskey. I’m just glad he’s on Team Turkey!
With our tour concluded, we rode back to the Station Master’s House. We had some time to kill before our scheduled barrel picks. While some of the group drove to Four Roses for a special release, Lee and I stopped by Heavens to Betsy for an ice cold Coca-Cola. I wasn’t quite ready for a full meal yet, but that club soda had done all it could do. After an extra-large cup of Georgia’s Finest (arguably the best Coke I’ve ever had in my life), I was ready to go. And just in time, as the rest of our crew had just finished up.
Lock In
Back at the Station Master’s House, we spent the last of our break under the gazebo outside. Bruce Russell joined us and filled us in on some of the new things going on at the distillery. Typically, when it comes to Turkey barrel selections, we head straight to rickhouse A. The break was a nice change of pace, allowing folks to fellowship and share a little bit about themselves before getting down to business.
The time had come, and we were met at the last minute by none other than Rare Bird 101 contributor and overall friendliest guy in bourbon, Frank Dobbins. We walked to rickhouse A eager to see what might be waiting for us on that chilly first floor. Despite the lack of fanfare, it was a special day. We’d be picking one of the first rye barrels Wild Turkey’s offered as a private barrel selection since the program’s discontinuation in 2017. We’d also be selecting a bourbon, which Bruce recommended we handle first. We listened.
The bourbon was fantastic, as always. From barrel to barrel Bruce filled our Glencairns and we marveled at the experience. I’ve probably said this a thousand times at this point, but tasting whiskey in Tyrone’s historic rickhouse A never gets old. Never. After roughly a half hour or so tasting blind, we’d narrowed down our favorites to barrels 3, 4, and 6. Barrels 3 and 4 shared similar profiles, which made choosing between the two difficult, so Bruce set up a blind tasting on the rickhouse porch. Everyone took a few minutes to find their favorite. After a quick vote, barrel 3 was revealed as our winner.
Bruce then threw in barrel 6 as a wildcard. While sweet and thoroughly enjoyable, it couldn’t quite stand up to the complexity of barrel 3 (or 4, in my opinion). With barrel 3 as a firm decision we were dying to know what we’d elected. Barrel 3 was pulled from the 4th floor of Tyrone’s rickhouse K, as was barrel 4. Barrel 6 aged in Tyrone Q. While I’m a TYQ fan and would’ve loved to have another Q notch on the belt, the top-quality profile of the K barrel was undeniable. And with that, it was time to taste some rye.
Back in rickhouse A, we gathered around three rye whiskey barrels. Each one aged on the third floor of Tyrone H, so there would be no need for a blind comparison. While they shared largely similar notes, one was spicy, one was pleasantly earthy, and the other was “appley” sweet with an ideal balance of spice to it. We opted for the third, though I would’ve been happy with any of them.
As we were finishing up the last of the rye in our glasses, someone pointed out the rickhouse seemed darker, prompting Aaron to ask if someone had turned out the lights. Bruce walked over to the door only to discover we were locked in. I can’t begin to describe the laughter and commentary that followed. No one cared. If there were somewhere to be stuck in Kentucky, I’m confident everyone in attendance would place Wild Turkey’s rickhouse A in their Top Three.
After a phone call to the distillery rescue crew, Bruce had one last treat for us – a special rye barrel, aged roughly eight years with a barrel proof of 101. If I recall correctly, it was the same barrel I tasted last year (and possibly the year before), only older and mellowed by the cool air of Tyrone A’s ground floor. It was a sheer delight – one of the best rye whiskeys I’ve tasted from Wild Turkey and I was elated to savor it with such wonderful company.
The remainder of our time was spent exchanging memories and stories, all while sipping a 1990’s Wild Turkey “Split Label” courtesy of Kenny. Bruce’s hospitality is honestly the best thing about a barrel pick at Wild Turkey. From stories about growing up on the property, to legendary tales of Jimmy and Eddie’s travels, Bruce keeps you entertained while never losing focus on the task at hand or the importance of the brand he’s entrusted with. He’s a tremendous asset – not just to Wild Turkey, but to the legacy of Kentucky’s distilling families. Like his contemporaries Freddie Noe and Rob Samuels, Bruce is staying true to his heritage, yet setting the pace in his own unique way.
With another successful Turkey barrel selection completed, we walked back to the parking lot at the Station Master’s House. Some goodbyes were in order, as Frank had an event to attend and Bruce needed to get back to Louisville. Ben would also be leaving us, as he needed to fly back to his family in Texas before heading back to Australia. The rest of us would meet up for dinner in downtown Lexington. But first, I required a nap.
Lost Palm
I arrived at 21C with every intention of catching some Zs. I’m not sure if it was the natural high from hanging out at Wild Turkey or the fact I was feeling 100% better, but I never caught that nap. No worries. I had some emails and phone calls to make before dinner. After an hour playing catch-up and charging my phone, I was ready to eat. Thankfully, Ryan had us set up at The Manchester in Lexington’s Distillery District.
The Manchester is a beautiful building. No offense to 21C, but the next time I visit Lexington I’ll likely stay at The Manchester. And their food and service … A+. The only thing that came close in satisfaction was the time at the table in conversation. But the night wasn’t over, not quite yet. Ryan had us booked at Lost Palm, The Manchester’s rooftop lounge.
We said farewell to Aaron, as he had a flight to catch early the next morning. Wes headed out as well, though we’d see him the following day. That left Kevin, Lee, Ryan, myself, and a bag full of cigars.
We spent the rest of the night enjoying the finest leaf and libations. As one might expect, the cocktails were excellent, as was our private tobacco selection (thank you, Lee). I kicked things off with a Southern Draw Rose of Sharon, which I’d argue is one of the best Connecticut cigars on the market, and followed that up with a La Gloria Cubana Wavell Natural. The view was stunning, the breeze was perfect, and the banter was laid back. I couldn’t have asked for a better evening.
Danville
I woke up early the next day feeling refreshed and refocused. We had a barrel selection and tour at Wilderness Trail at 10:00 AM, though I had plenty of time to pack up, check out, and grab some breakfast. Kevin and I hitched a ride with Wes as the other members of our team were driving from different locations. I was grateful the weather was clearing up, as storms had rolled in during the early morning hours. It made for a relaxing, uneventful drive, unlike my last visit to Wilderness Trail.
Joined by Jacob, Lee, and Ryan, we met up with our host, Riley, at the visitors center and walked to the pavilion for our tasting. It was a nice change-up from the indoor tasting room, as we could look around the property and hang out with a last-minute addition to our group, Cooper the cat. Before us were four glasses of rye whiskey, accompanied by the typical tasting accessories (pen, notepad, water, etc.). I’m a huge advocate of Wilderness Trail’s rye, so things were certainly starting off on the right foot.
We nosed and tasted through our glasses and landed on two potential selections. Unfortunately, we couldn’t reach a group consensus so we politely asked for a few additional samples in hopes we’d land on one unanimously. After another round of tasting, all but one of us circled back to glass 3 as our favorite. Wes, sticking to his guns, was still pulling for glass 4. A blind tasting was in order and Riley kindly obliged.
In a matter of minutes we’d reached a unanimous decision. And the winner? Glass 3, which had a sweet, creamy profile accented by notes of gingerbread and gingersnaps. It was nothing like previous Wilderness Trail rye barrels I’ve helped select, which showcase stronger frosting and medicinal cherry notes. But truthfully, I saw the profile differences more as a strength than a weakness. As they say, variety is the spice of life, and when it comes to whiskey I couldn’t agree more.
After our tasting Riley guided us on a tour of Wilderness Trail. We started in one of the newer rickhouses, which still smelled like fresh lumber inside. Being used to spending time in considerably older rickhouses, such as ones found at Wild Turkey and Maker’s Mark, the fresh-cut wood scent was somewhat foreign (though lovely in its own way). Of course, there was plenty of bourbon in the air, which is always a treat.
From the rickhouse we walked to the fermentation room, where corn, rye, malted barley, and yeast were having a hot-tub party. We viewed the mash at different stages, tasted it a time or two (maybe a few times more if I’m being completely honest), snapped a few pictures, then made our way to the stills.
One of my favorite things about visiting a distillery is tasting the new make. Not every distillery lets you taste their white dog, but when they do it always makes for a memorable experience. Wilderness Trail was no different, and as you might expect, their new make (traditional rye bourbon recipe) is exceptionally tasty. It has a silky sweet, almost candy-like taste – dangerously easy to sip too.
We gathered for a final group photo in front of the column stills then headed back to the visitors center to browse the merchandise. I was tempted to grab a bottle of the seven-year-old rye, but my gut told me to hold off as I’d have to check my bag at the airport. Instead, I opted for a hip Wilderness Trail t-shirt. (It was a wise call, as you’ll soon find out.) After a morning sipping whiskey and touring the distillery we were hungry. We thanked Riley for his world-class hospitality and made the short drive to downtown Danville.
If you’ve never been to Danville, you should. It’s beautiful. We dined at Copper & Oak, which had just about everything a famished whiskey enthusiast could want. As luck would have it, Wilderness Trail’s Pat Heist was seated at the bar. He stopped by our table and asked about our day at the distillery. I’ve long appreciated Dr. Pat’s knowledge (thanks to some popular podcasts and YouTube channels), so it was great to finally meet him in person.
Stuffed, we said goodbye to Jacob, Lee, and Wes, while Kevin and I hopped a ride to Lexington with Ryan. On our way we stopped by Camp Nelson. Even though it was gated and closed to tourists, it was fulfilling to stand on the grounds where some of the best whiskey Wild Turkey has to offer is aged. And I’m not surprised, as the campus has an energy about it. The patina on the rickhouses is a sight to behold, and the view overlooking the Kentucky River gives it a Tyrone-esque vibe. Maybe one day I’ll get a more in-depth look (fingers crossed).
Run, Run Rudolph
We dropped off Kevin at his hotel and wished him a safe journey home. I kicked around at Justins’ House of Bourbon’s bar for a bit while Ryan caught up on some work matters. After an hour or two it was time to get back home. Ryan dropped me off at Blue Grass with more than enough time to make it through security (which only took about 10 minutes – ha!). But that’s when my luck took a turn.
Seconds before boarding, Delta announced a delay due to a jammed luggage compartment. What I assumed would take a matter of minutes, took over an hour to address. But all was well. I’d have to skip a relaxing dinner at ATL but would still arrive in time for my connecting flight home. We boarded the plane and hit the runway. But just before takeoff (and I mean just before), a burning smoke-like odor filled the cabin. Back to the jet bridge we went!
After deplaning, Delta announced an indefinite delay. Fortunately, they were very helpful and arranged a back-up flight the next morning, as well as offering a hotel room if needed. I held onto my original ticket just in case, watching the minutes tick by. After another hour, they announced we were finally boarding (again), citing an HVAC issue as the cause of the odor.
By that time, there were only a handful of individuals left in the terminal (it was late), which allowed for a very quick boarding process. The captain announced the flight duration. If correct, I’d have 15 minutes to get from the arrival gate to my connecting flight. This might work out (but I wasn’t holding my breath). Realizing I’d need to be at my mental and physical best upon landing, I skipped having a drink and opted for coffee instead.
Touchdown in Atlanta and the time on the tarmac was grueling. 15 minutes to get to my gate … 10 minutes … nine … eight … With seven minutes remaining, they opened the door to the jet bridge. I had to get from gate D42 to C55 in seven minutes. With my son and daughter’s birthday parties the following day, I hauled ass like the McCallisters on Home Alone. And let me tell you, I felt every one of my 47 years. As C55 came into view, I saw a gentleman in a yellow vest closing the gate door. “HOLD THAT GATE!,” I yelled like an out-of-breath lunatic.
But I made it. And my kids had an awesome birthday party … with their dad.
Like every trip to Kentucky, I returned home with memories to treasure. Even when things didn’t quite work out, they did in the end. In whiskey enthusiasm, each day is an adventure inching you closer to an even greater adventure. The key is finding friends to share those adventures with. It might start by trading samples locally, or possibly sharing tasting notes with someone online. But once you make a quality connection, foster it. I can say from experience that no bottle – no bourbon, rye, or whiskey of any type (rare or common) – has given me more joy than the friends I have in this hobby. This trip only reaffirmed that.
Special thanks to Campari, Wild Turkey, Wilderness Trail, Justins’ House of Bourbon, Bourbon Outfitter, and the Woodwork Collective for making all of this possible.
dj
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Awesome article! Incredible insight into something I’ll never do myself. I appreciate the whiskey reviews, but stories like this provide immense value. Thanks for sharing!
Thanks so much, Tony. Glad you enjoyed it. And never say never!
I find it interesting that they included the Wilderness Trail story on this site. Is it because of the Campari ownership tie-in? Do you work for Campari in any capacity? Should we be expecting future coverage of other Campari owned brands? I mean, Four Roses distillery (not owned by Campari) is just down the road from Wild Turkey distillery, so why not a Four Roses story instead of Wilderness Trail? Plenty of Wild Turkey enthusiasts also really enjoy Four Roses, because of some of the similarities in spiciness of their bourbons.
This blog is dedicated to Wild Turkey. I’m not an employee of Wild Turkey (or Campari). I was simply writing about my trip to Kentucky – the entire trip – and you’ll find similar posts from past trips featuring Maker’s Mark, New Riff, Rare Character, Starlight, etc. Plenty of posts for you to explore, Larry!
Thanks for the clarification. I do enjoy travel blogs the best of all. I’ll check out more of them that you mentioned. Thanks
Anytime. Enjoy!