Kentucky - Day 21 - Maker's Mark Distillery

Taylorsville Lake State Park
Monday, 21 October 2019

today's route

[I ran out of wifi signal at this point and wrote this post on my computer's word processing program.  I have no control over the font. But the problem I ran into this morning is that the signal is so weak it took 5-8 minutes per photo to download them - extremely time-consuming.]

I happened to notice on the AAA map that the Maker’s Mark Distillery was in the neighborhood of this campground and decided today was the day for the bourbon distillery visit I’d been promising myself.

According to online mapping programs, it was less than an hour away from here, mostly along county roads, and I only hoped that I’d be sober enough to get myself back here safely after the tour.  I didn’t know I also needed to hope that I could even find the distillery in the first place.

I vetoed some of Google’s planned route on the basis that the roads it recommended appeared on satellite to be good only for locals or people driving cars.   Still, even the ones I ended up taking were inadequate.  Some were only 1½ lanes wide – not so good when I met opposing traffic a couple of times.  Others were 2 lanes, but only in the sense that 2 vehicles could squeeze by each other without one of them leaving the road.  No shoulders anywhere and almost no pullouts that weren’t somebody’s driveway.

Plus, as I’m noticing frequently in Kentucky, directional signs or even street name signs are completely inadequate.  I’m beginning to think that in this state the attitude is, if you don’t already know where you are, then you don’t need to be here.

And it’s country out here.  Old Briar Dog Road.  Old Possum Ridge Road.  That sort of thing.  Making coming around a bend and seeing St. Rose Catholic Church up on a hill in tiny Springfield startling.

St. Rose Catholic Church of Springfield

But I made it to the distillery somehow.  Walked the dogs around the large, nicely landscaped parking area.  Had some lunch (figuring it was better to drink on a full stomach).  Talked to some people who’d just been on the tour who said it was well worth the price of admission.

Which, I found, was $14.  A little steep for me, but this was something I'd wanted to do so I paid it.

side 1

side 2

This historical marker at the entrance sums up the background for the distillery, but the present business has moved far beyond that.

Our very bouncy and enthusiastic guide, Kelly, took us at top speed through the distilling process – and the tour still lasted just over an hour, even at her speed.  She was very nice, though, and gladly went back over things when I asked questions as we walked from one place to another.

This distillery is family-owned, on its 3rd generation now.  The founder, Bill Samuels, Sr., turned his back on his family’s bourbon recipe, which he regarded as harsh rotgut, and worked to create a softer, sweeter bourbon.  What he came up with was a mixture of 70% corn, 14% malted barley, and 16% soft red winter wheat.  Kelly said they don’t mind at all telling the recipe because the secret part is the yeast they use.  Both the corn and the wheat are grown locally; the barley comes from the Great Plains region of the US.

All the grains are first put through a roller mill to make the taste sweeter.  They’re then cooked for 3½ hours, which turns the starch into sugar.  The grains are then combined with the yeast and ferment over a 3-day period.

There are 8 of these enormous vats in this room, most with this fermenting brew in them.  The vats are made of cypress and hold 20,000 gallons each.  On the first day of fermenting, the yeast is working on the sugars and is very active, as you can see from the bubbles in this photo.

This brew looks nothing like a liquid to me and somehow I missed hearing how the one becomes the other.  The next step I heard was that the fermented whiskey is put in barrels to age for at least 3 years in the warehouse.  They can store up to 2,000 barrels at a time in their warehouse here.  The barrels are first stored at the top of the warehouse, where the hot Kentucky summers help the aging process.  The barrels are made of white oak, charred to improve the taste of the whiskey.  Each barrel is used only once, and then they’re sent to Scotland where they’re used to make scotch (waste not, want not).

Eventually the barrels are moved to the bottom of the warehouse (see right) where it’s cooler – though not artificially cooled – it’s about the same temperature as outdoors, though kept a little cooler by the limestone walls that were part of the original gristmill on this site.  You can sort of see that the rear wall of this room is the original limestone.

As I understood it, the glasswork you see here is temporary.  For the next few months Maker’s Mark is honoring a local glass artist, and his works are displayed throughout the multiple buildings.

Back to the whiskey.  Beginning while the barrels are still at the top of the warehouse, a panel of tasters samples each barrel periodically to determine when it’s ready to be moved farther down.  Kelly said Maker’s Mark is either the only distillery or one of the only distilleries to hand rotate their barrels.  They bottle by taste rather than by age of the whiskey.

I’ve got photos of the whole bottling line but can’t quite remember what each step of the process does.

The photo at left shows each bottle being cleaned with a shot of bourbon jetted inside.  

The one at right shows the bottles being filled with whiskey. 

The photo at left shows the bottles being corked. 

I don’t remember the step shown at right but hate to leave out the photo in case somebody else knows what’s happening. 

 Each bottle is hand-dipped (left) in their signature red wax.  These women will work at this station only 30 minutes at a time, to prevent accidents with the hot wax (320°) from tired workers.  The wax has a polymer in it that helps it dry faster and hold its shape better than plain wax would.

The photo at right above looks back at the whole line, which you can see isn’t really all that big.   

The photo at left shows the bottles moving past a fan to help along the wax-drying process.  The one at right shows the finished product being boxed.

The product that’s being bottled in these photos isn’t the usual Maker’s Mark whisky but instead Maker’s 46.  That’s a newer product with a recipe created by (I think) the grandson, present owner Rob Samuels.  He wanted to see if he could come up with an even smoother version of the original recipe.  He starts with the fully matured Maker’s Mark whisky, then ages it 9 more weeks with 10 French oak staves, charred on one side, added to each barrel for a different flavor. 

Maker’s 46 needs a cooler temperature than the original recipe, and is stored in this specially constructed building (left).  Its green roof (can you see the plants?) help keep it at a steady 50° inside.

Maker’s Mark is proud of its different appearance, most of which was designed by Margie, the wife of the original founder.  Kelly went on about her at some length.  The shape of the bottle was Margie’s idea, as was the wax sealant and the red color of it.  Even the name of the liquor was Margie’s: she collected pewter and pointed out to her husband that each piece of pewter was marked with an identifier of the maker.  Hence, Maker’s Mark whisky.  And yes, in the US all bourbon is spelled “whiskey.”  But the family came from Scotland, where the liquid is spelled “whisky.”  To honor their background, they decided to call their liquor Maker’s Mark Whisky.

Kelly took us all through a tasting session.  (See photo at right.)  Going clockwise beginning at the far left (the clear liquid): Maker’s White, 130 proof, cut to 110 proof with limestone water before bottling; original Maker’s Mark, 90 proof when bottled; Maker’s 46, 94 proof; [at this point I was getting a little worried about staying sober for those roads, despite the very small samples, as you can see]; Maker’s Mark Cask Strength, 108-115 proof, straight out of the barrel so every batch is a slightly different level of alcohol, what we had today was 109 proof; and Maker’s Mark Private Select - Cask Strength, today’s was 110.7 proof.

It all tasted like bourbon to me, and I’m just not familiar enough with it to be able to distinguish the nuances of the various products.  It all tasted fine, and apparently I can save a lot of money by being happy with the original (which I’m sure is less expensive).

What I absolutely loved were the bourbon balls we got after the tasting.  The bourbon was infused into the ball itself, rather than being something inside a chocolate casing, and each one had a pecan half on top.  Turns out that’s a bourbon product I can get enthusiastic about.

Signs in the gift shop said they wanted to respect local merchants by not undercutting prices on the products, so the whisky was the same price I was seeing in liquor stores.  And almost all they had on display were the Maker’s 46 and Maker’s Mark Cask Strength, which I didn’t want to pay extra for since I couldn’t appreciate it.

I did find those bourbon balls, but their smallest package was 16 balls for $25.  If they’d had one with 8 balls I’d have bought it gladly, but $25 for a dessert I’d have trouble storing – I just couldn’t see it.  Oh well.  Maybe another time.

Several people were taking their 2nd or 3rd or 4th tour here, and afterwards I could understand why since there was more information than I could easily absorb in this one go-round.

I’d intended to take a different route back to the campground, to see some different countryside, but that’s not how it worked out.  As I said, they’re a little casual about their signage in this state and I got completely lost.  In fact, I was only kept from sheer panic by my trusty AAA map which, when I finally came to a road big enough to be on it, showed me that I had almost made a complete loop and in a few more miles would be back on the road I’d taken in the morning.  My guess is what happened was as much the fault of Google’s directions as it was a lack of signs, because those directions often tell me a road’s named something that doesn’t match at all with the signs that are posted.  This may have been one of those times.  Oh well.  At least I got back to the campground.