Day 3 of vacation dawned sunshiny and bright with the sound of a jackhammer outside our window. At least they waited until 8:00 AM to start drilling on the street below. Well, we had things to do and places to be anyway today.
We got ready, packed out bags, and headed out of Louisville. As we were heading out to catch 64, I saw that my old stomping ground had been revived. O’Shea’s Irish Pub is in the old City Lights and Doc Crow’s BBQ is in the old Great Midwestern. Now I have a reason to come back and check out more stuff.
For breakfast, I had found a restaurant that I thought Rich might like. Wild Eggs sounded very similar to the Yolks restaurant we found in Chicago. Rich did admit to me on the way out to the restaurant that he was a little bit hungover from the drinking the previous evening. To be fair, he really doesn’t drink that much these days. Some greasy food and coffee would help. Then I’m making him drink bourbon this afternoon.
We arrived at Wild Eggs to find people standing outside. That was a good sign, if you don’t mind a wait. There was free coffee at the door that you could enjoy as you wait. We stood outside and talked. Everyone was churning around in small and large groups. Everyone directly ahead of us went in. It would be our turn soon. I look up and Nicole, the bartender from last night, is walking in the door. How cool.
A group of people came to sit on the bench when the previous occupants had gone inside. An older gentleman came up and started talking to us. I think he was looking for fresh ears to turn that morning. The group he was with were mostly women. Soon, our pager buzzed and it was time to say good-bye to the nice man.
We got seated and made our order. A carafe of water and a carafe of coffee came to the table. Good, we should have a supply of coffee at our fingertips without waiting for someone to come by. I ordered chorizo sausage gravy and biscuits with a side of grits. Rich ordered the breakfast burrito with black beans. The food arrived and was wonderful. The gravy was tangy with a little bit of spice. The grits were real hominy and not the instant dried stuff. Rich’s breakfast plate was amazing. Everything was fresh and delicious.
Then it was time to hit the road yet again. We were heading to Lawrenceburg, KY and the Wild Turkey Distillery. I think we’ve planned to hit just about every distillery there is on the Bourbon Trail. Wild Turkey was Rich’s next choice. We arrived a little after 12:00, got tickets for the tour, and had a 20 minute wait. We walked around the shop, purchased a t-shirt for Rich, and then hung around outside. There were kids barrel rides dressed up as turkeys. I just couldn’t resist getting my picture taken.
Jonathan, the tour guide, came out and gathered us up for the bus ride to the distillery on the property. We got the history lesson for the operation from their start in 1895 through today. The bus dropped us at the door. Before going in, Jonathan explained about three large silos just outside of the door. One silo is for corn, the other for malted barley, and the last one is for rye. The contents of the three silos is the week’s worth of materials for making Wild Turkey bourbon. Impressive.
During the tour, Rich explained about being a homebrewer and the similarities. Jonathan immediately zeroed in on the fact that he had to talk to Rich when the tour was over. We walked around the plant and viewed the displays. Finally, it was back on the bus and to the tasting room. Of the 6 or 7 types of bourbon produced at the distillery, you could sample two of them. Lucky for Rich, I wasn’t sampling. I got two of the bourbons he wanted and he used his tickets for two others. This gave him a total of four to sample. I did sneak a little sip of each. I know have a new favorite bourbon, if I really drank bourbon.
On the bus, I was talking to the lady in front of me. She was wearing the most beautiful American Indian jewelry. I asked her about it and found out that she used to deal in this type of jewelry. She and her husband lived in Grants, NM. They ran a shop there and worked with several artists to provide jewelry. Lucky her. I told her my story about Rich thinking I knew the name of every American Indian jewelry artist in the southwest. Too bad she isn’t still in the business. Today, she, her husband, and her sister-in-law are travelling the country. Last week, they were in Cape Cod. Today, they were in Kentucky.
So the tasting ended and Jonathan got to have his conversation with Rich. We gave him the AHA website and Charlie Papazian’s name. He and Rich talked details and how to get started. After stressing the process and not the actually jumping right in, I think Jonathan saw that he was going to be working at this for a while. We might start hearing his name in the world of beer.
Time to make a decision. Rich wanted to buy a bottle of the best bourbon he had tasted. It actually came down to two bottles. The Kentucky Spirit was great and not that expensive. However, he could buy a bottle of Rare Breed and have a special label created for the bottle. His label said:
Bottled specially for the 12 Bar Blues Bar
This is the name of Rich’s bar in the basement. When the ladies at the desk asked about the reference and he explained the name, they thought it was really cool. One of the ladies asked why a name like that. Tanya said, “I’d drink at a bar named 12 Bar Blues Bar!”
It was a day of old guys. One of the older guys from our tour came in and asked for directions to Louisville. Only he wasn’t saying it any one of the 5 accepted ways to pronounce it. The ladies behind the counter were laughing and kept saying Luval, but the guy wasn’t listening. One of the tour guides stepped in to help him. But every time the older guy said Louisville, the ladies at the counter started shouting Luval! I couldn’t help myself and after the third time, I started helping them shout, too! We went out for about 10 or 15 minutes, before Rich made me leave. But I was having fun!
OK, back on the road again. We headed toward Lexington and made our way to I-75. This means we took a couple of circles. In Lexington, they love their circle drives. We found 75 and headed south. The country here is pretty much mountains. You are driving through the edge of Harlan County and Hazard. This is coal country.
Both sides of my families are from Kentucky. My mother grew up in a small town called Crail Hope. My granddaddy’s place still evokes a lot of memories. Smells always send me back there. One of them is the smell of crude oil. Why? Because they were pumping crude oil from a couple of wells on the property while I was growing up. That was how he supported himself when he retired from farming. We stopped at a gas station to fill up the tank. Right next door was a well head pumping away. It reminded me of walking around the fields at my granddaddy’s.
We meandered our way down to Knoxville TN and toward Gatlinburg. Our cabin is right off the parkway between Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. I knew the weekend traffic would still be in Pigeon Forge and probably slow us down. But what we got was absolutely ridiculous. It was car show weekend in town. Turns out, the entire strip in downtown is the car show. Cars of all kinds were lining the strip on both sides. People had their chairs out and sitting in the grass next to the highway. Three lanes of traffic were going 10 miles an hour for about 7 or 8 miles.
We figured out to stay in the center lane to keep out of the cruising cars. But that didn’t mean we were going much faster. We just stopped less. People would run across the 6-lane highway. I think it was an old fashioned game of chicken. Cars were moving back and forth between lanes, depending on if they needed to turn around and go back around the strip.
After an hour, we finally made it through town and out the highway to our cabin. At this point, you are technically in the Smoky Mountain National Park. We got to our road and turned up this big hill. For those in Southern Indiana, this was the equivalent of driving the Knobs. It is basically a single lane road that goes straight up the hillside. Our cabin appeared on the left and we pulled into the concrete pad.
As I thought, the cabin is literally hanging on the side of the mountain. The concrete pad is little bigger than our CRV would fit on. We opened the door and started moving in. It is a little worn, but pretty much as advertised. The whole cabin is a large great room with a loft for a bedroom. It was going to be cozy and welcomed.
After getting set up and making a grocery list, we headed into Gatlinburg to look around and grab some food. We stopped in at the Smoky Mountain Brewery. The place was packed with football fans watching one of several games. I guess this is the place to be. The food was pretty good and the beer wasn’t bad. We found out that we could have parked in their lot for free after eating there. We would know better next time.
Now we had to find a grocery store. Turns out, the two places in Gatlinburg were closed up tight with for sale signs. Oh My God! We had to go back to Pigeon Forge! Maybe the traffic was clear and people were going to bed. Oh no! They were still going strong at 9:30 at night. After another half an hour, we made it down to the Kroger. In the checkout, we found out that if alcohol was not in a plastic or paper bag, it was considered an open container when they stopped you. We got all of our stuff in plastic bags and packed up to head back on the strip for the cabin.
At 11:00 PM, the cruise was still going on and people were just starting to close up and pack it in. We managed to get to the outside lane, which made it go a little faster. We got back to the cabin before midnight. We decided to sit out on the porch and watch the mountain disappear into the fog. The stars come out. Rich said he saw a shooting star, but I didn’t see it. So there is confirmation. After a while, it’s pretty dark. Rich went up to bed.
After all the driving, I was still pretty awake. I had blogs to write so I sat in the living room on the big couch with my feet up writing. The sounds of the cabin are quiet and shifting. I hear things dropping on the roof. The windows are open to the breeze and the cool evening air. We sitting up in the air, but I worry that animals can climb up this high.
Finally, it’s time to call it quits. I go to bed, but I’m too hot to sleep. I keep listening to the sounds around me. That is, I try to listen, but the sounds of Rich sleeping are getting in the way. I want to put my hand over his face when I need to hear something, but that would only wake him up. I look out the window cut into the side wall of the cabin that looks out to the sky. I can’t see any stars even though it was clear out. Oh yeah, the window is too dirty to see. How would you clean it up here? I finally go to sleep only to wake in the early morning hours thinking that raccoons have gotten into the kitchen downstairs and knocking things over. I got downstairs, but it’s only the ice maker dumping ice. What? No imaginary raccoons? Back to sleep…finally.
Oh yeah, and the reference to the title for this day is the slogan out at Wild Turkey Distilleries.
