Above photo: Noah surveys his kingdom at Willett Distillery, Bardstown, Kentucky

Do you know about the Kentucky Bourbon Trail? I ask only because I met a woman from Colorado last night who had never heard of it. Perhaps you have to be a bourbon lover for it to be on your radar. For those unfamiliar, Kentucky makes a lot of bourbon, and you can visit the distilleries in and around the Lexington/Louisville/Frankfort areas. I have wanted to make the trip for a long, long time – long before the RV.

The first time I got a (literal) taste of the Kentucky Bourbon Trail was in 2016, when I stayed in Lexington en route to Asheville, North Carolina. While camped at the Kentucky Horse Park, my friend Kathy and I went to Woodford Reserve. It was a great experience, from the grounds, to the tour, to the tasting.

I came away with a coveted bottle of Double Oaked bourbon that I shared and sipped until it was gone, vowing to return in the motorhome when I had more time.

In 2017 I intended to return, but my health had other plans. I ended up flying from Seattle to Louisville for the Kentucky Derby, but as you know if you read the blog, that turned out as it should, and I am all the better for it.

Finally, in Fall 2019, I got my chance to get back on The Bourbon Trail. Dodging looming winter weather would likely prohibit touring all the distilleries, so I chose to stay in Bardstown, Kentucky, epicenter to many bourbon makers, restaurants, and activities.

I settled in at My Old Kentucky Home State Park, less than a mile from town, so-named because Stephen Foster wrote a song about the antebellum home on the property.

(Foster also wrote another minstrel song about the Suwanee River in Florida, “Old Folks At Home,” and the two sound almost exactly the same.)

The old plantation consists of a golf course and campground. Out of so much toil and strife now comes fun and leisure. I like it.

Every day I looked out my windshield at semi tractor-trailers driving past the park, with names like Evan Williams and Maker’s Mark emblazoned on the sides. Ahhhh, home.

The rickhouses (AKA rackhouses, or barrel houses, where bourbon is aged) of Heaven Hill Distillery could also be seen from camp.

Old rickhouses always look like they need a good power washing, especially white ones, as do the trees and signs and other structures nearby.

This is caused by Distiller’s Mold, a fungus: Baudoinia compniacensis. It is an unsightly but harmless byproduct of ethanol vapors escaping from the barrels. This process of evaporation is known as “The Angel’s Share.”

The pups and I really lucked out; on our first walk we stumbled upon the Bourbon City Bark Park, directly across the road from the campground.

It is obvious a dog lover designed this park, with real grass; separate areas for large and small dogs (but the small dog side is not a postage stamp or an afterthought); training area; water features; dog washing stations; and rocking chairs and gazebos for the humans.

Park entrance requires a membership fee, which I don’t mind at all, but many towns do not accommodate short-term visitors. Even when they do, you must obtain a pass at a city government office; we often miss out when I’m passing through town on a holiday or weekend.

A nice man let us in the first time and told us we could obtain a week-long pass at the grocery store – both dogs for $20! What a bargain. I immediately drove to Sav-A-Lot, showed the dogs’ vaccination papers, and obtained a key fob.

Over the next week we chatted and made friends with many people (and dogs!), and the park even featured us on its Facebook page. We definitely experienced the Kentucky Welcome. I was sad when I dropped off the fob on the morning of our departure.

Maker’s Mark ($14 Tour And Tasting)

I visited Maker’s Mark right away – one of my all-time favorite bourbons. It is 18 miles from Bardstown, in Loretto. The grounds of the distillery are a national landmark, dating back to distilling circa 1815, so it’s easy to forget that Maker’s has only been made since 1953.

The attention to detail is impressive (did you notice the shutters form the shape of their bottle?), from printing the labels on a 1934 printing press,

to hand-dipping each bottle in wax.

The are utilizing all that space to display beautiful works of art, like mosaics by Tracy Pennington,

and glass, by Dale Chihuly

and Stephen Rolfe Powell.

What a fabulous, fabulous tour.

Exploring Bardstown

Bardstown’s slogan is on point: Bourbon Comes from Bardstown. It is a charming little town with good restaurants, museums, and a main street lined with shops.

On my first night in town I wanted to go to the The Old Talbott Tavern, open since 1779, but I hesitated because I have been trying to stay on a budget. Don’t cry for me Argentina, but lately, between monthly payments on Boss Tweed’s unexpected medical bills of $4,500 in June and consequently buying insurance for all three animals, I have been trying to be more conscious of my spending.

I ended up going anyway (of course I did), sitting in the bar (of course I did), where I struck up a conversation with a charming couple from Odessa, Texas.

When it came time to pay the bill, they had taken care of it. Those damned Texans! (Thanks, Belinda and Michael!) Twice on the road a couple has bought me dinner, and they have both been from Texas. By the way, Belinda lovingly operates a nonprofit cat rescue and adoption service – check her out at Belinda’s House of Cats’ Furrever Meow.

One morning in town I visited Spalding Hall and the Oscar Getz Museum of Whiskey History,

then did a little shopping, where I found these pajama bottoms that just screamed my name.

They were too long, so I found myself being measured in the shop by Dixie Hibbs, seamstress, author, Bourbon Historian and the first woman inducted into the Bourbon Hall of Fame. Dixie charged $1 per leg. Ladies and Gentlemen, you just don’t get more small town awesome than that.

At the dog park I mentioned that I planned to see the Civil War Museum, and a woman told me a little bit about hometown boy, Hal Moore. That night I watched the Mel Gibson, Sam Elliott, and Greg Kinnear 2002 movie, “We Were Soldiers,” based on Lt. General Moore’s book about Vietnam, then visited the war museums the following day.

How Bourbon Is Made

Before I go any further about the tours, perhaps a little bourbon primer is in order.

Ninety-five percent of the world’s bourbon is made in Kentucky, but unlike Champagne, bourbon can be made anywhere. All bourbon is whiskey, but not all whiskey is bourbon. Bourbon is made of at least 51 percent good old yellow dent corn, has no additives (water only – no flavorings or colors), is of certain exact proofs when barreled and bottled, and is aged a minimum of two years (straight bourbon) in a new charred oak barrel.

Each distillery has its own grain percentage recipes, known as mash bills. That 51 percent corn may also be mixed with rye, wheat, and barley.

Seems like everyone does their own milling, and the grains are then boiled in limestone-filtered Kentucky water – high in calcium, low in iron. They talked up their water so much I bought a $10 bottle of it for mixing with bourbon.

The next time I see you let’s both try it with some product and see if I was a sucker.

Yeast is added, setting off fermentation. Now you’ve got a sour mash.

When the mash cools, it’s known as Distiller’s Beer, but you wouldn’t want to drink it.

The beer is then distilled various ways, most often in a column with plates,

sometimes in a pot still, sometimes both.

Ever hear of those mountain boys drinking Shine and going blind? Methanol, AKA wood alcohol, was the culprit. Distillers poor off the top and bottom of the batch, “the heads and tails,” before barreling.

What’s left is White Dog, AKA White Lightning, or Moon Shine.

(By the way, this way of viewing the product as it runs off the still is called the “Spirits Safe.” Some even have a lock on them,

but I got to “break in” to this one at Barton for a taste. Woo Wee!)

Bourbon must be aged in new oak barrels. There is no requirement that the barrels be made of white oak, but they are. None of the bourbon distilleries I visited make their own barrels; almost all of them were supplied by a cooperage in Lebanon near Maker’s Mark. By the time I thought to take a tour there, they were closed for the weekend.

The inside of the barrel is flash burned, or charred, at a burn level stated numerically, between one and five. Most distilleries order their barrels charred at between a three and a four. For example, Maker’s is a 3. Willett, a 3.5.

Once the bourbon is in the barrel it goes into a rickhouse, where seasonal temperatures play a crucial role in the aging process. In warmer temperatures the barrel expands, and the bourbon soaks into the wood. In colder temperatures the wood contracts, pushing the liquid back out again. Along with the Angel’s Share caused by evaporation, a percentage of the bourbon is lost to the Devil’s Cut – the amount soaked into the wood that cannot be retrieved (although lately Jim Beam has been steaming theirs out with their Devil’s Cut product).

There are no set number of floors in a rickhouse. Some distillers put the barrel away and never touch it again until there is a problem or it is time to bottle it, known as “putting the baby to bed.“ Unlike champagne, barrels are not turned during aging – the bung closing the hole can never face downward due to gravity. Other distillers move barrels from the top of the rickhouse to the bottom and vice versa depending upon temperatures and seasons. It is all a part of their own methodology, history, tradition, and alchemy.

Last summer a rickhouse at Barton collapsed.

On their tour we were in the oldest remaining rickhouse, from the 1930s. A plummet was installed to keep an eye on the structure.

The tour guide said, “It doesn’t have to stay right in that middle square, but if it moves too much, it goes from a Plumb Bob to a Run Bob.” Hilarious, and such a Southern turn of phrase.

The used barrels can never be for bourbon again, so they are often sold to scotch distillers, wine makers, brandy makers, and the like. For example, I have personally fallen in love with Apothic Inferno, a red table wine aged in bourbon barrels.

Barton Distillery (Tour And Tasting Free!)

It is possible to find free tours and tastings on the Bourbon Trail, although it is rare. My tour of Barton’s was free, as was Buffalo Trace, which I will talk about later.

Barton’s makes 1792 Bourbon, among others, and the tour felt very homespun and grass roots; you are literally dodging grain delivery trucks and semis full of finished product as you walk around the grounds. I enjoyed it very much.

Heaven Hill Distillery (Tasting $20)

Heaven Hill (that really is the founder’s last name) is undergoing an extensive renovation. I paid the most money for no tour whatsoever and only a tasting, yet walked away with more bottles than anywhere else, because they make some of my favorite brands, including Larceny, Evan Williams, and Elijah Craig.

Willett Distillery (Tour And Tasting $12)

Willett has been family-owned since 1936.

Their pride and joy is the Willet pot still, and one of their bottles is shaped like it.

The tour was enhanced by Willitt’s mousers and rickhouse cats, Noah (whom you’ve already met on this piece’s featured image, and who joined us on his velvet thrown in the tasting room),

camera-shy Wednesday, the black cat, and Rowan, who lounged on the sun-warned bricks by the pot still.

On The Lincoln Heritage Byway

(The Lincoln Family’s migration, typical of pioneers during Westward Expansion.)

I took a bourbon break and went in search of the Lincoln legacy in Kentucky.

His paternal grandmother’s homestead outside Springfield was not particularly fascinating, but a piece of the Lincoln puzzle nonetheless.

It was there I learned that Lincoln’s namesake, grandfather Abraham, was killed by Native Americans as he planted corn with his sons in Virginia. Our President’s father, Thomas, was saved by his brother Mordecai, who shot another aggressor.

It was at the Homestead that I first saw a painting of Abraham Lincoln’s mother, Nancy Hanks. I thought, “Holy cow, she’s Abe in a dress!”

Then I pondered the time in which she lived, how they were a family of little means, and that she died in her 30s while Abraham was still a boy. How in the world did it come to pass that someone painted her portrait?

As it turns out, that painting was completed in 1963 by Lloyd Ostendorf, a collector and organizer of photographs of Abraham Lincoln. Ostendorf read descriptions of Nancy’s appearance and studied photographs of other Hanks family members in order to come up with what he felt was a reasonable guess of her appearance.

Excluding the immaculate variety, never in the history of conception has there been more to-do about one than in Springfield, Kentucky, and it’s a tenuous connection at best. Ladies and Gentlemen, feast your eyes on the place where the marriage certificate between Thomas Lincoln and Nancy Hanks is on file!

(Perhaps the citizens of Springfield, Kentucky hope tourists will mistakenly think they are in Springfield, Illinois.)

Lincoln’s birthplace in Hodgenville was equal parts moving and farcical.

The monument (1911) is grand, befitting a fallen leader. The ranger said, “There are 56 steps – one for each year of his life,” and my eyes filled with tears as I recalled my visit to the Ford Theatre and the bloody pillow on display at the Museum.

The idea was simple: Take the log cabin in which Lincoln was born and place it inside a mansion of marble, symbolizing that those who come from humble beginnings can achieve greatness in the United States of America.

Except somebody couldn’t leave well enough alone. Someone didn’t subscribe to my motto, “Never let the truth get in the way of a good story.”

Long after dedication, some killjoy tested the wood of the cabin, surmising it was built in the 1840’s – too late to be Lincoln’s place of birth. (I guess it wouldn’t be that hard to do. It was made of logs, after all; just count the rings.)

Now the cabin is known as “The Symbolic Cabin.” You can’t make this stuff up!

The boyhood home, where the family lived for only a few years before they moved to Indiana, is nearby.

It was there I learned Lincoln‘s boyhood friend saved him from drowning by extending a limb to the flailing Abe. The sparing of Abraham’s father from Indian attack as a boy, and this near-drowning event impressed upon me the fickle hand of fate in a sort of reverse “It’s a Wonderful Life.” If it weren’t for so many others, Abraham would never have lived.

The New Kids On The Block

Back on The Trail, I have seen the future of bourbon, and I don’t quite know how to feel about it.

Bardstown Bourbon Company

Wow! Look at this restaurant and Visitor Center!

Look at these 21st Century rickhouses – probably even mold resistant.

Recently laws have changed, and distilleries may now serve food. Bardstown Boubon Company has pulled out all the stops with high end eatery, Bottle and Bond Kitchen and Bar.

My $40 lunch consisted of a Kentucky Mule, tomato soup with grilled cheese dippers, and $12 Brussels sprouts. If I wanted I could’ve tried vintage bourbons at $1,000 an ounce, listed in the Bourbon Bible by era. Here are just two pages:

The Napa Experience has come to Kentucky.

I guess I like my bourbon a little more down-home; more country, less city; more family history and tradition than multinational conglomerate; more accessible than rarefied.

But that lunch sure was good. (I didn’t do a tour or tasting.)

Preservation Distillery (Tasting $16)

Preservation bills itself as Bardstown‘s first official craft bourbon operation. All I know is they lost me with their price points, tequila, and Canadian blended whiskey in the heart of bourbon country. They are located on the former site of Hillbilly Heaven.

Lux Row ($13 Tour And Tasting)

Lux Row is a bright and shiny, Kirin Japanese Beer owned, maker of such brands as Rebel Yell, Ezra Brooks, David Nicholson, and Blood Oath. Yawn. I bought chocolates and bitters.

A Trip To Frankfort

Four Roses Distillery (Tour And Tasting $10)

On the way to Frankfort I stopped at Four Roses Distillery in Lawrenceberg, and this is where my Kentucky Bourbon Trail experience really started to go off the rails. I did get to see the Spanish Mission style architecture rarely seen in Kentucky, listed on the National Register of Historic Places, which was cool.

But the tour itself was like herding cattle, each of us forced to wear earpieces to hear the shrill voice of the guide, whose headset scratched and thumped in our ears and made her breathing sound like Darth Vader.

Four Roses is a huge operation, and it felt like it, in all the bad ways. My trip to Four Roses convinced me to skip Jim Beam.

The State Capitol

In Frankfort, Kentucky’s State Capitol made it 24 I have seen in four years on the road.

Rebecca Ruth Candy

In the shadow of the Capitol Building is Rebecca Ruth Candy, maker of the original Bourbon Ball since 1938. Bourbon balls are a beloved staple of the Kentucky Derby, right up there with mint juleps.

Those balls ain’t cheap, but the not-so-pretty ones are sold at a discount as Bourbon Ball Boo Boo’s. I opted for the original recipe, made with 100-proof Evan Williams, but they make them with several other bourbon brands now.

Buffalo Trace Distillery (Tour And Tasting Free)

My final tour restored my vigor – beautiful Buffalo Trace in Frankfort. The basic tour is free of charge, and the grounds are historic, and scenic.

Buffalo Trace is the oldest continually operating distillery in America, even remaining open during Prohibition for “medicinal“ purposes. They distill some of my favorites, including Buffalo Trace, Blanton’s, and Van Winkle. Alas, there was no Pappy to be had.

A Day In Louisville

With Louisville only 45 minutes away, I snuck away one afternoon to visit Pif and Chip, friends who live in the Cherokee Triangle. We visited the Muhammed Ali Center and paid our respects at his grave at Cave Hill Cemetery.

We stopped by to see Colonel Sanders too.

Bourbon Trail Recommendations

As the sun sets on this Kentucky excursion, I have a few tips:

If you are anywhere near the Maker’s Mark Distillery in Loretto, Kentucky, go visit. If you can go to only one distillery, this is the one I recommend. You can dip your bottle in the red wax if you like.

Cooperage The Independent Stave Company in Lebanon, Kentucky conducts tours on the weekdays.

Aside from distillery restaurants, the best restaurants in Bardstown are The Old Talbott Tavern, The Rickhouse in the basement of Spalding Hall, Kurtz, and Mammy’s Kitchen.

Go to Willett’s restaurant for Sunday Brunch.

For a high end meal, go to Bottle and Bond at Bardstown Bourbon Company. Save this one for a special occasion.

If there are no special events going on, you can pretty much walk in for a distillery tour on Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Make reservations for the rest of the week just to be safe.

For a budget-conscious Bourbon Trail experience, visit free distilleries like Barton and Buffalo Trace, and buy reasonably-priced bottles at Barton and Heaven Hill.

Boone’s Butcher Shop in Bardstown has excellent cuts and prices.

When tasting bourbon, swallow, then breathe out – not in. Breathing in introduces oxygen and causes the burn. Breathing out provides a nice finish, known in bourbon circles as “The Kentucky Hug.” What a unfortunate name. It sounds like an unwanted advance – an embrace that goes on a little too long … by a family relation. Nevertheless, a good bourbon’s finish leaves you with that warm-all-over feeling.

Here’s my Bourbon Trail bounty. Drinks are on me the next time you visit. Cheers!