cowgirls

cowgirls

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

"So many Bourbons. So little time."

Mercy law, Sister Thelma drives like a bat outta hell like she's on a mission. And she was. And we were. We were on the Moonshine Run Express. Wagon ho, y'all!

Bits of blue fevvas stuck to my label.
The best advice (I know now) my Sister-Mister ever offered me was to never, ever volunteer to ride in the back seat of a 15-passenger van. You will feel every bump in the road, and it will sling your boney ass to kingdom come, he says. And just like every other piece of advice he's ever offered, I paid him no nevermind. I shoulda listened, especially with all that water and Bourbon sloshing around. Shet.

We opted not to see another warehouse after touring the one at Heaven Hill. You've seen one whiskey barrel, you've seen 'em all. Besides, we had more tasting to do, and time was a' wastin.

We rolled up to the next saloon distillery, Jim Beam American Still House located in a little cowtown named Clermont.



I like how my initials appear at the top of the building. They love me. Anywho, now that we were Bourbon aficionados we couldn't wait to see what Mr. Beam had in store for us.


Sister had an educated thirst that called for bottles with pretty labels on 'em.


Here we are like a coupla' cheap saloon girls. I ate feathers for daysssss by the way.


Not quite as formal a tasting as we  had experienced at Heaven Hill in Bardstown, they turned us loose women to select three Bourbons from Mr. Beam's private stock. Nor was there a bartender. We sampled a premeasured amount from machines. But they knew how to cut you off just like a real live one, by golly. Twon't no chance of our cowgirl boots taking root to dem bar rails. By then, Cindy was grinnin' like a skunk eatin' cabbage. In the moonlight, ha.

The griddle cakes we gobbled up earlier were long gone, and it was high time we grabbed some grub to hold us over til our traditional Dutch Oven dinner later in the evening. The running of the Derby was not far off, so we thought we'd do the neighborly thing and celebrate with the Kentuckians a bit early. After sampling with more to come, we needed our bellies filled for some much anticipated Mint Juleps come happy hour. And, as I write this, I'm beginning the Sisters might need to plan a trip down south to the Betty Ford for those of us who might have the propensity. Law has mercy we sound like a bunch of sots. But, we have more fun than anyone!