And the Winner is….

Not that thing…best oyster according to Eddie, silly you.  After exhaustive research from the coastal waters of Maine to the rain soaked streets of Charleston, Eddie has put in the research on the best oyster-raw or fried on the eastern seaboard.  And we have the Master Card receipts to prove it.  Drum roll if you please…it is the Southwest Sensation from PEI (Prince Edward Island), with second place going to the Virginia standard of Old Salty’s.    

Remember back in the day when Pappa’s on 59 (now I-69-they grow big so quickly) use to post on the outside marquee in the winter/holiday months Oysters $3.95 a dozen (followed by the fresh lobster $12.95 a pound) ? We did both specials.  Eddie would come home from work with that wild eyed look and said we were going out to dinner.  The boy could do some damage.  Once the kids left home we would bring our other oyster loving friends and do some serious damage.  The shuckers could not keep up.  Once they realized they had heavy duty eaters, our table would have a designated shucker.  Those days are long gone…the going rates are $3.50-4.00 per oyster…per oyster, you read it right.  No more 10-12 dozen on the half shell.  Since we have done limited excursions on this trip, Eddie decided to find the best oysters on the Eastern Seaboard, that tells you everything you need to know about Eddie’s adventuring spirit these days.  Today, with storm clouds and rain soaked streets we walked the mile to PearlZ on East Bay port side in Charleston.  We came to Charleston together in 2019, but Eddie has come here for years on Federal Court work and assorted boondoggles-I mean conferences.  October and November are usually the months of Low Country Oyster Roasts…byosk-bring your own shucking knife.  Some parties even gave them as party favors…one can never have too many oyster knives with a sexy leather belt pouch.  Oyster Bars in Charleston are like Nail Bars and Mexican Restaurants at home…one or two on every street corner.  There must be an oyster mafia as the prices/selection are pretty much the same every menu you glance at.  

PearlZ was the place on the way to the Charleston airport we discovered 5 years ago.  They have a couple of locations, today it is the one closest to the dock.  Neither rain nor humidity was going to stop Eddie from his oyster date.  Charleston humidity…next level, think New Orleans after a rain storm.  So glad I did not put any effort on my hair before leaving the ship.  We arrived a little before 1:45…the place does not open until 2:00…like I said very much like NOLA.  They took pity on us and let us come in early and get our oyster on.  I am only a casual oyster eater…I don’t think I have ever committed to a full a dozen…more of a one and done kind of gal.  Eddie had the two mentioned above, and a fried oyster platter that he said was the best he has had in a long time.  I had a mixed grill skewer with the usual suspects of shrimp, scallops, salmon and unicorn fish….please do not tell my grand daughters I ate a unicorn fish.  When we got back, I looked it up…figured the foodies had renamed some not appealing sounding fish name with unicorn fish.  Nope, unicorn fish, sturgeon fish and tangs (think Dory) are all part of same group.  They have a slight horn on the head.  So, unicorn fish…it is what for dinner…wonder if that is at our H‑E‑B.  

As we retraced our steps, I went left towards the Charleston City market and Eddie went right back toward the ship and a post oyster nap.  Charleston understands the tourist market well.  This is a 4 block area in middle of Market Street that for over 200 years have housed the City markets.  Today, it is home to local sweet grass weavers, artists, tee shirts and souvenirs…all out of the rain and sun, some with fans and some more like small shops with Air Conditioning and bathrooms.  It is fun to wander the market…whether I bought anything or not.

I am on the back side of my upper respiratory stuff…based on the sights (masks) and sounds (coughing and nose blowing) everyone else on our ship signed up for the same excursion.  Eddie is late to the party, but the coughing began this morning…great souvenir.  We seem to keep picking up this same souvenir every time we get on a ship.  We arrive home Saturday afternoon late.  I have been watching Rafael with interest.  Looks like we are not going to have a visitor….George quipped that if the government is really controlling the weather, we need to stop given them our Itineraries.  Until our next adventure…. 

It’s a Miracle!

 It’s a miracle! After ten days with Sir Richard/Eddie and his dapper wooden cane and brown fedora, Eddie has been healed!  He no longer needs his cane to walk.  Seriously, after a week on board, it was obvious he is out gunned by the other cruisers.  There are more pieces of expensive medical equipment for whatever your infirmity might be here on board Nautica.  Our fellow passengers are almost all of a certain age…read I am on the young side of this spectrum.  Yes, there are pockets of 50ish folks (Cuban American that live for the casino to be open), but by and large it  people that prefer a smaller ship, excellent food (you can even get a lobster on a burger-foodie wet dream), and lots of butt powdering.  You can sort the groups by medical equipment and shoe wear.  There is a range of footwear that looks like a catalog shoot from Foot Solutions.  (Read High end shoes that are built for foot issues and comfort and are decidedly unflattering)  Then there is the walking and rolling medical equipment-did not even know some of these existed.  It took Eddie a week of observation to decided that his cane looked a little affected, but not much medical value.  Did he say this, no, but he concluded it was not helping his hip problem.  Duh, could have told him that, it is too short…thanks, Amazon.  

Today in Portland, we decided that we had actually had enough lobster and could do lunch on our own at Eventide Oyster Bar.  It ranks as one of the best places on the eastern sea board to get fresh raw oysters. Portland, Maine, is everything a charming New England town should be..with excursions to and from Peggy’s Cove for the iconic picture of the colorful cottages on the tidal pool to a red and white lighthouse on the rough rock coast/cove entrance…  Eddie was so excited about fresh oysters from the Maine coastline, he actually memorized the map on how to get there on FOOT…like I said, it is a miracle!  

Back to Eddie and Oysters…we walked the mile to Eventide…a mile because Eddie got lost. Yeah, his memory is not as good as it use to be…nor his directional compass.  I  had pregamed this place and knew it was both popular and did not take reservations except for tables of 6 or more…on Resy..two weeks out starting a midnight.  It is a smallish affair…think the size of our living room, dining room and foyer, with a bar area/shucking area about the size of my kitchen work space.  There were 3 picnic tables inside, ledge bar seat by windows and standing ledges on the back wall.  There are 10 picnic tables outside that could seat six, so I guess that is what a reservation would get you.  It is 30 degrees outside, sunny, but not on our side of the street.  We do not own clothing for this kind of weather…another one of those passenger identifiers.  No cute puffy jackets on Team Pickle…we would look like the Michelin men…so thin windbreakers with long sleeved cotton shirts, it is.  We arrived at the hostess stand and put our name on the list-30 minutes if we wanted to sit on a bar stool in the window, 2 hours for picnic table seating inside.  There were few hardy souls sitting outside, so instead of walking for next 30 minutes until I receive a text, Eddie plopped down at the first picnic table facing the door, and gave the hostess his glare.  It worked, old people on outdoor picnic tables telling incoming customers of how long the wait would be (yes, he did that).  I think it was all of 5 minutes.  Eddie still has the power to intimidate people  a cold stare…no cane needed.  

Now for the Oyster review.  East coast and Gulf Coast oysters are on the same branch of the animal kingdom chart, but they are so different.  Gulf Coast oysters are large, with heavy shells and only truly salty and safe in the cold months of year.  East coast oysters are smaller, with petit shells and have different salinity based on the type.  Eddie opened with a dozen of 2 each of the chef selection…plus a lagniappe of two common NE oysters.  He determined the pink striped variety was the best and ordered a second dozen along with a lobster roll dressed with brown butter.  Service and  barstool turn over is fast…you are not going to hang around, it is slurp and go kind of place.  I had a blue tuna roll and cup of clam chowder.  Eddie was a happy camper when we walked/skipped back to the ship.  Miracle, right?

The other activity of the day was presenting ourselves to the CBP (US Border patrol) in the cruise terminal.  Instead of waiting until the end to stamp your passport, they want to do it in the first US port that your ship makes.  We have done this numerous times in numerous countries, so this was not something new.  I guess they are looking for random gray terrorists among us.  We were given rather vague instructions on how this was done, but found out from the dining room manager that it would after the CBP people had eaten their Hamburgers with lobster, which he had scheduled to be ready at 11:30.  Like I said, it is a small ship, no secrets.  

When doing this in the past, there are line lice…just like on airplanes…don’t want to wait until it is their turn…jump to front.  Nope, not happening here…this is a group of color within the lines baby boomers.  We wait until we are called…no terrorists, no line lice.  

Rolling on the River

 Remember how I mentioned in a previous post that there were two Oceania ships in the Quay in Montréal?  De ja vu all over again…Viking Summer Sailing 2023 without Covid Jail.  Insignia is Nautica’s “sister” ship, doing a one week Montréal to New York run with us.  We all know what that means—-another game of rock, paper, scissor…and our captain will lose.  Bottom line, Insignia will park next to the dock and we (Team Nautica) will anchor and tender to shore.  

The small town of Saguenay is almost at the end of the Saguenay Fjord off of the St. Lawerence River.  Excursions include fun things like going to a paper mill, paper museum or a pulp wood factory….in the rain…No thanks, we have been to Laurel, Mississippi-many times-and know what making paper smells like. It is a classic fjord, with a river, glacier formed mountains on both sides, that eventually meets a larger body of water. This fjord is much  wider than those in Norway, Alaska and Chile, not quite as picturesque. The shape of this fjord acts as a wind and current funnel…so both anchoring and tendering will be that something extra on todays’s stop.  The weather…cold (30 degrees), overcast with a strong chance of rain.  Eddie rolled over and said “Let’s sleep late, and decide”.  About that time the anchor dropped, and dropped  and dropped some more…definition of a fjord…deep water …Suite 6002 is right above the Theatre and the anchor porthole…metal chain on a steel ship hull.  Special.  Once dropped, Eddie attempted to go back to sleep….we are facing into the wind (and current)…to maintain our position, the Bridge must engage the bow thrusters…every two minutes.  Wow!  Glassware, remotes and our dental work all bounced around…every two minutes all day long.  And to think we paid extra for this treatment.  We had probably laughed more (between the bow thrusters engagements-lest we bite our tongues) at ourselves than usual on the trip so far.  

Because we are so far north, with darkness setting in before 5:00, I have had my handy Aurora App set to alert me to the Northern Lights in my area…it knows where I am and have give the okay to send me notifications.  In both May and earlier in October there has been heavy solar activity-So the Northern Lights have been visible as far south as Tennessee.  Where we are, the lights are more common but it is cloudy…but I am waiting for my phone to indicate that the skies is green, orange and purple.  So far, nothing, but I remain hopeful as we will be sailing the St Lawerence River for the next 36 hours with almost no light pollution…read day at sea.  

During the night, Eddie and I both became aware of the extreme motion of the ocean.  A couple from Houston that we met in the Airport before departing chuckled when we told them our room number. Larry  and Connie are veteran Oceania cruisers.  Larry said we should be prepared for “X” sleeping.  Yup, we are “X” sleeping as we have hit heavier seas and the bow of our ship is digging into each and every wave.  Think roller coaster in bed.  We assumed the “X” position with Eddie hanging on with his left hand, me with my right and our one leg crossed over the other person’s to prevent rolling out of bed.  We are having fun now!  Can I get a Wohoo! Wait, it gets better.  The tonnage of our boat is probably 1/3 of what we are accustomed to, so even the smallest of wave action makes for a interesting day.  We know from past experience on much larger ships that a little sick tablet goes a long way…but also makes one sleepy.  We once again assume the “X” position and waited for the seas to calm…36 hours later.    No green and purple skies, but lots of green and purple passengers…is there an App for that?  

No Good Deed goes Unpunished

Monday morning in Montréal has arrived and it is time to pack our bags and leave the sound of jackhammers and street construction and board our ship-Oceania’s Nautica Waiting for us a mere 1,000 meters at the Alexandra Terminal/Quay of the St Lawerence River.  Hey, we are in Canada.  They use meters (metres in French) not feet.  For those of you who struggle with conversions, think 10 football fields. Guess what/who does not get excited about a 1,000 meter cab ride-especially when you can’t “pull up” to the front door of the cute boutique hotel that Eddie selected? That would be cabs and Uber folks, they basically have said Not It.. I knew because I inquired…pregame, right?  We will have to retrace our steps from Saturday night, cross the street, down the block, then cross another major thoroughfare and walk the 3-4 football fields to where you give them your baggage.    Hmmm, each of us have two rolling suitcase, and I have a tote for important crap and IPads, a purse. Then there is Eddie/Richard’s hat and cane, like the Cabbie said “Not It”.  When I explained all of this to Sir Eddie on Sunday morning, he groaned as only Eddie can.  His response was “We’ll see.”  

Not to be left out of the construction obstacles, Hotel Nelligan joined by moving the front desk to a new location, and totally walling off the previous lobby/check in area while we were sleeping soundly in our bed.  Here again, the mess, the wet float and tape and the wet floors…

Not to mention there was no signage for either the wet floor nor the location of the new reception lobby and exit doors made for less than an easy exit.  I feel a nasty Yelp review coming on.  Eddie and I wheeled our baggage through the newly created maze and out the door of the boutique hotel…down the warped wooden planks and the 1000 meters to where not one but two Oceania ships were waiting to welcome us aboard.  Hat, cane, two bags…he did it.  But not without a lot of cheerleading on my part…heck I knew I forgot to pack my megaphone and pompoms.  

On Wednesday before we left, our TA (Travel Agent) and Oceania contacted us (Eddie got the email while I was out errand running) of a last minute upgrade to a Vista Suite from our Penthouse Suite.  The 800 square feet suite with a 200 square foot balcony and two bathrooms had stars in Eddie’s eyes.  I know the look well when he told me about the email when I got home.  He had already made up his mind that we would be doing (read paying for) the upgrade.  This is our first Oceania cruise, he wanted it to be the best.  You know our motto-there is good, better and best…sometimes you just start with best and save money because you did not buy either good or better…Eddie logic.  This is an older ship, but has been extensively remodeled within the last two years…bright, light with lots of bling.  This is only 650+ passengers, about 1/3 the size of our usual Celebrity ships.  Checking in is never fun, but with our new and improved location/status, we skipped the lines and went straight to our suite at 11:30.  Yup, it was everything Eddie desired-short of his recliner.  Location you ask-sixth floor forward, port side, bow of ship.  Hmm…our butler let us know that while we are under way, the balcony is locked and furniture and cushions stowed lest they become flying objects.So much for using the balcony-even though the temps are hovering in the 30-40’s.    There those safety regulations are.  Oh yeah another couple of things we have learned in the last few days.  The anchor is close, as  well as the bow thrusters and Nautical Lounge on 5 directly below us.    Each of these little things have made themselves known to us in their own special way.  Veteran Oceania cruisers have chuckled when we told them where we were on the ship…guess this is Oceania inside joke.  Eddie thought he was doing something special for the trip…no good deal goes unpunished.  

Another Pickle Adventure Begins

Bonjour!  armed with my elementary school French (yes, I am that old, French was considered the international language)  and a few phrases from the Paris Olympics,  Eddie and I are off for a pre cruise visit to Montréal.  Montreal and Quebec like to pretend that they are attached physically to France.  Most from the French Province of Canada speak both French and English, but like to make us Americans work for the little things…so, a little Merci, Si vous plait goes a long way. Throw in Le chat est sur la table-translation the cat is on the table…one of the few things I remember…valuable,  n’est ce pas?  A life of various experiences and menus, we can usually keep from ordering fried calf brains or something equally as gross off a menu if they do not have an English menu.  Enter the ever popular QR code menu.  Nothing says five star dining like a menu on your smart phone.  

On this trip, Eddie selected our pre cruise accommodations and the restaurants that where we would be dining.  He also selected our activities from a list I had curated 6 months ago.  After his selections, it is my job to procure to necessary reservations tickets and arrange for transportation.  Our pregame is pretty strong…and this trip is no exception.  I researched the Montréal airport to determine how and where customs, baggage claim, and transportation was located.  Bless you You-Tubers out there…I tend to be a visual learner.  Nothing screams tourist/low hanging fruit like older travelers with mouth gapping wide and blank eyes, or looking into a phone.  I like to armed myself with knowledge from the internet, so I looked as if I know what I am doing, no low hanging fruit here.    Eddie armed himself with a brown suede fedora and wooden walking cane.  Think Sir Richard Attenborough in Jurassic Park (1993).  We all know Eddie is a thespian at heart and loves a good role to play.  This time Eddie selected a slightly infirmed, yet well heeled traveler, to proud to use a medical walker or cane.  Insert eye roll.  Well, once we deplaned in Montréal, Sir Eddie went into Sir Richard mode.  Low and behold, if the airport golf cart did not do a three point turn to pick us up and whisk us quickly (I have whiplash)  to the customs hall…No, I did not pregame that one.  Our golf chariot placed us on the private elevator and we were in the Customs Hall with 100 machines to speed us along.  I had already completed the Declaration form online through their app. (Not our first Canadian rodeo) Among these 100 machines are about 4 Canadian custom officials that are there to help people with the technology.  A rather tall official spotted Eddie, I mean Richard, and I and took him by the arm and completed the process and walked us out Line 1.  It happened so quickly that we were done before anyone else on our flight had even walked the 85 gates to this area.  Needless to say we beat the luggage.  Guess Eddie/Richard knew his audience…Oscar winning performance.  To the Sortie (that is French for the Exit) and transportation.

There is the car park, friends and family pick up and then transportation for hire.  Taxis have a door (23) and it is usually 30 minute wait, Uber/Lyft at Door 28, less of a wait, but my pregame said that they can not use the diamond lanes and there were major road closures between the city and airport.  Limos on demand are through Door 24, no wait, pricing only $25-35 more than a taxi to the city.  Guess which Door Eddie picked.  Those of you that had Eddie in a limo on their Bingo card can black out that square.

After all the years of travel for work with  large crowded hotels, Eddie prefers smaller boutique hotels.  Must haves include either a bar and/or restaurant and convenient location. He selected the Hotel Nelligan in Old Town, near the wharf.  He was insistent it was Number One.  About two days before we departed, we received an email from Hotel Nelligan advising of some minor inconveniences with the roads in Old Town-both in French and English.  We are from Houston, orange barrels and open streets don’t scare us.  This inconveniences did not appear that bad until we actually tried to get the hotel.  The entire street/block was blocked and open.  Our limo driver could get no closer than the corner.  There was a one lane of warped wooden boards to the hotel’s entrance, which was not clearly marked…it is currently 6:15 pm (EST)-no lights (but for a few people’s cell phone flashlight apps).  Obviously, our friends to the north do not have OSHA regulations for work sites in commercial areas or experienced lawsuits when people fall down and break an ankle.  We check in and stow our bags in a lovely room on the fourth floor overlooking the construction pit.  Yeah, there is no OSHA regs here.  As it is the weekend, and work stopped on Friday and will not resume until 7:00 on Monday, we thought it was safe to crack the windows. Did I mention we are right under the Terrace Lounge.  You have been to our house, we don’t do heat and prefer open windows when temps dip below 50 degrees…29 degrees rate a crack.   Eddie and I have always equated lounge as a quiet affair…Nope,Nope Nope…party til 3:00 AM loud music and  loud voices all of my favorite lullabies.  Eddie closed the windows around midnight…guess he needed to watch a You Tube video on French window closing, as both were open in the morning.  

We spent Sunday strolling the non open streets of Old Montréal.  There are plenty of store fronts that remain empty, but Eddie managed to find some outstanding restaurants for our meals.  We both wanted to see the Notre Dame Basilica of Montréal, not to be confused with the  Notre Dame Cathedral-of Quebec…apparently the French franchised and trademarked the Notre Dame concept back in the day.    The ND of Montréal did not disappoint.  The French and the Italian know how to build and adore a Church…even though the architect for this particular ND was an English Anglican from New York.  The Greek Revival altar area comes alive with a color palette not normally used in churches.  It was exquisite.  Meanwhile, in the park out front was a group of 250 or more protesting the war against the Palestines…Flags, keffiyehs in black and white on the men’s heads, loud music and yelling over a microphone.  Yeah, after our trip to Vancouver last year, we included the “peaceful demonstration” and “police in riot gear” on our travel bingo card.  

Guess who is coming to spend the night?

Okay, who invited Beryl to the party?  Nothing says summer fun like an early Hurricane in the Gulf.  We just finished getting the May damage to the dock repaired right before we left…my head said to wait as I felt we would see more damage this summer.  Wonder if Downtown Houston and the 4,000 blown out office windows will have that same feeling.  Yeah, paying the stupid tax once again…we do that bunches cause we are so anal.  One bright note, we moved all the electrical boxes for the boat and jet ski lifts up 3 feet…so we won’t have to change all that stuff out again.  Of course, when we sell the house, you will need a step stool to get to said lift boxes…but new owners would never know that until they bring home the new boat…the view always distracts folks.  After 18 years, we use to love watching storms come in and the wave action…we have learned that wind and waves always have a costly next morning hangover.  Then there is the part of finding someone to repair the damage.  We have been rebuilding our list of “people” since Harvey…we set the List on fire then and burned a lot of bridges.  Scorched earth…that is how we roll.  

We are now in the final week of our stay in North Carolina.  These last few days were the ones we planned just for us.  A final lap to the Famers Market…my favorite.  Completion of our restaurant bingo board of favorites…however, Eddie quoted my mom and said “Not as good as it use to be”….and added “that is a lot (meaning money) for that (meaning food)…I agree, but it beats cooking three meals a day any day of the week.   8 years ago when we first started coming here, it had not been discovered by many…now the secret is out, we see car tags for everywhere and crowds where we use to see few.  We have explored before, this time we are quite happy to sit on the deck and watch the breeze in the trees…and count the deer population as we drive from here to there.  Eddie even saw a newborn baby fawn that was spooked out of hiding by the rumble of thunder.  You know you have arrived at that certain age when you can identity the various birds, delight in nature and find a cool breezes exciting.  Right, Joe?  Oh, he might forget the birds names unless Jill whispers them in his ear.

George was here from the start, and Lauren and fam joined us for the week of the 4th.  The week was fairly uneventful except for a Karen story.  Yeah, I am sharing one on me…really two.  First was Date night for L&D.  George and I were responsible for kid entertainment….we picked  movie time.  Despicable 4…Eddie suggested we get tickets online ahead of time.  Check, in my Apple Wallet…no instructions, just the scan code and Theatre 7.  We arrived and there was one person working the concession stand, no ticket takers, no indication of which of the 10 screens had which movie. …so, we sit down in Theatre 7 with 3 kids, no concessions…line too long, one person.  Well, the next 10 minutes were filled with previews of coming attractions…of course,  the green screen with the “suitable preview for all ages” before each…I was horrified when each preview was more scary than the next.  The kids assumed the position—- hands over eyes and ears…looked like the three monkeys…I had my hands over Lucy’s eyes and ears for a make sure.  Finally, the adult in the room (George) stood up and said, “this is not right, let’s leave”.  We hustled out, and I am sure that nightmares would be part of the kids evening activities..date night comes at a price these days.  George made a quick detour to concessions determined the theatre was actually number one.  We regrouped and sat down for 94 minutes of minions in Theatre 1.  At about the 75 minute mark, Lucy announced she was dying from hunger.  I attempted to ignore the pleads (which got louder and more attention getting-like I was pinching her each minute) …until the 80 minute mark….Lucy is the most persistent of the three.  While at the Concession stand, purchasing my smallish $10 bag of movie popcorn, I inquired about the procedure that had led us to the horror movie (The Quiet Place prequel) theatre instead of the Yellow Minions world.  He explained that you were suppose to scan the code at the monitor on the table with the extra butter and napkins and it would direct you to the appropriate theatre. I asked how was I to know this procedure….he answered that everybody just knows it.  No signs, not email, not nothing…just you just know.  I returned to our seats with the smallish bag of $10 popcorn…apparently everyone wanted popcorn and Lucy was the designated speaker for the group.  Oh, I forgot about Rooney…Lucy’s stuffed monkey that she acquired on an outing to Tweetsie Railroad.  You know the monkey that has long arms and legs that has Velcro hands and feet to attach around your neck and waist.  Rooney and Lucy have been inseparable since Monday.  Rooney had to come to the movies.  In all the chaos of popcorn and exiting the theatre, Rooney got left behind.  We were in the car, half way back to the cabin when it hit me that we were short one Monkey.  I asked Lucy if she had Rooney…I glanced at her in the rear view mirror…the surprised look, the shaking of head and the tears that immediately sprang to her eyes said we were going back.  I did what any good Grandmother would do, u turned on the top of a hill with double yellow lines on either side.  Now George had the sissy bar.  Back the 15 minutes to the movie theatre.  Uncle George ran inside to talk to the folks that cleaned up Theatre 1….Rooney had already found a space in the Lost and Found box.  Rooney rescue complete, and securely wrapped around Lucy’s neck once more.  Of course, Eli, our budding teenager, stated that his mom would not have returned so Lucy would remember to take care of her possessions in future.  Score one for Uncle G and One for NeyNey (me)….we will take small victories where we can.  George is still not over me pivoting far right lane to far left on hilltop.  PTSD at its finest. Who needs minions…we have our grandmother….

Back to Normal

Ahh…where were we?  George and I had just left of our massages and Eddie was nesting at the cabin and doing Laundry.  I know you are sitting on the edge of your seat  as to what happened next…Friday arrived and things were back to normal.  George and I got up and drove the two hours to Asheville and Biltmore, while Eddie on Day 9 took a much needed “me day”.  I am impressed that he hung in there this long.  Actually, he had never been part of the Biltmore tour plans this trip.  We have been coming to Biltmore since 1976…the changes to the “experience” has expanded dramatically (not in a Disney but more Downton Abbey way).  George is both a history buff and Downton fan, so he had no problems on saying yes to a day visit.  The one thing that Biltmore and Disney does have in common is the price of tickets and all the add ons that you can make…well in advance.  If you show up bright and early at the gate without tickets…you will have the late afternoon entrance to the home…it is timed entry these days.  Like we say, a failure to plan is a plan for failure.  Biltmore is the largest home in the United States…178,926 square feet of floor area…there are small liberal arts colleges that don’t have that much space.  I never fail to be impressed with both the history and the challenge to keep family legacy of ownership alive.    

You know that heat dome in the Mid Atlantic states? It made its presence know in Asheville.  84 with humidity and several thousand of your new best friends shuffling through this large home cooled mostly by fans and high ceilings.  Good times, for sure.  We finished our tour and made a dash to the winery for a tasting as we needed to leave by 3:30 to make it home for 6:00 dinner reservations.  We have changed our glencarin glassware for wine glasses for this portion of the trip…we did the brewery tour a few years back…we do not discriminate in our consumption of alcohol, equal opportunity, for sure.  Years ago, it use to be a medicine cups on barrel tops.  The winery has been expanded dramatically….along with their offerings and “experience value”.    George tasted…if time had permitted we would have done the chocolate pairings.  I can chocolate and drive…for sure.  Going home to Texas, Eddie will be channeling his interBurt Reynolds/Smokey and the Bandit bringing several cases of liquor across state lines…

Saturday was Me Day 2 for Eddie….if a little is good a lot be more better…one of my absolute favorite things here in North Carolina is the Farmers Market circuit… in particular, the best is the Watauga County Farmers Market…Saturday from 8-12:00.  In the eight years we have come, the vendors/farmers never change.  I have learned that 8:30 arrival time means prime up close parking and the vendors still have plenty of produce.  You can talk gardening trash with the fellow that put out the plants in the garden.  I brought my wing man, George, as he is cooking dinner for us tomorrow evening.  He was overwhelmed at the fresh vegetable and fruits selections.  We celebrated our purchases over family style breakfast at the Daniel Boone Inn Restaurant.  Google it…there are not many things like this left these days…fresh faced college kids, putting all u can eat bowls of all the breakfast favs on the table for you and yours to eat $15.95 each, no credit cards, cash only, no doggie bags…and Eddie slept in. 

Well, you have suffered through the boring, on to Sunday with Eddie.  Eddie always rallies for Sunday brunch…remember things are back to normal, this part of the trip was the beginning of the family portion and he does not have quite the handle in what comes next….queue to endless questions and comments.  I tell him these are the options, but concrete plans, nope.    Yeah, things are back to normal.  Today, we were doing Sunday brunch at a Boone restaurant, then a trip to Grandfather Trout Farm so that George could fish for Sunday’s night trout. I am sure you are aware of the expression of “shooting fish in a barrel”..it is kind of like that, but involved worms, kernel corn and well used cheap rods and reels from Wal Mart or even Amazon…although I have not seen very many of the familiar Amazon E vans since we left Texas.  Following our fishing adventure, we were going to stop at Grandfather Wineries …wait for it…a tasting…imagine my surprise when Eddie emerged from the bedroom, with khaki pants, blue dress shirt and caramel wingtips.  In  my most non combative voice, I asked Eddie if he remembered we were fishing at Grandfather Trout Farm.  He replied that just because every one else in these resort areas have forgotten how to dress appropriately, doesn’t mean he has to follow suit.  Okay, Joe…at least he did not babble or lose his train of thought.  He went back and changed his shoes to his brushed suede tie up shoes. The assortment of clothes that he brought were interesting.  Due to his skin issues, he shies away from shorts.  Fine, at least pack some blue jeans, sneakers or your beloved Sketchers…the ones without stains and holes.  Nope, we packed for a cruise…not a month in a car and in the woods.  Kinda like a small child that bring everything but clothes when allowed to pack on their own.  

Post brunch (with the required Bloody Mary), we drove the 10 miles to the Trout Farm.  There are two stocked trout ponds and a auxiliary nasty stagnant pond which is counted on their FB website, but has never been used in the 8 years we have come here.  Two Bubbas dressed in tee shirts with this season’s fish blood stains permanently part of the outfit.  Then there is Momma that run this place since it opened in the 1980’s…curiosity got the best of Eddie.  He had originally stated that he was going to sit in the car and read so as not to get his outfit dirty.  So, here I am with my seven (Ty-three) year old and my four (Ty one) year old little boys grabbing the cheap rods and headed out to catch a fish, just like all the other small children with their parents.  I was left to bring the 5 gallon plastic bucket, fishing net, container of kernel corn and container of worms….like I said we are back to normal.    Oh yeah, I almost forgot.  Bubba #1 offered Eddie a chair seeing how Eddie was dressed as a gentleman fisherman, and all.  B#1 must have wanted a big laugh as Eddie selected the aluminum framed with the woven RWB man made fiber webbing…circa 1990’s or before. (Read half of the webbing missing, or torn)   Well, off we stroll to the back side of  the larger pond where B#1 had said that the 4-6 pounders lived.  Between Eddie’s proper dress and George Aversion to slimy things…I baited the kids’ hooks.  You may ask why we are doing this instead of grocery pick up in the seafood counter?  This is not your H‑E‑B…yet.   Well, we do love to support the local economy, but they don’t sell what can be locally caught is so many places for free.  Eddie pops open the vintage swim team chair, and gingerly lowers himself into seat.  Whew, that was close…must have been made in America…built to last.  The weather is okay for trout…overcast and mild, a littler higher humidity due to all the water around us.  The squeals of small children “catching” the big one-with parent assist broken the rather quiet late morning.  Our two big kids were without a nibble or squeal.  We decided to move around the pond…closer to the action, but not to encroach on the other fisher people…being we are with the Fisher Gentleman, after all. 

Just as all small children, Eddie lost interest when the fish did not immediately bite, and the cheap reel was not the quality that he has at home.   He stood up very carefully and announced he was going to the car.  The chair survived.  Well, the minute he left…fish on.  I manned the net, George reeled in his prize…not the advertised 4-6 pounder, but after an hour in the humidity 1.5 worked for us.  B#1 had explained that the “drunk fool” that stocks the ponds reversed the the order last time…biggie went in small pond, small in front large pond.  Sure is hard getting good help these days.  Post catch, Eddie returned to see if our luck had improved.  The fish must have sensed the fisher gentleman was back, they stopped even casual bait stealing.  The expert Eddie told George he needed to move to the water inlet area. No, George has now decided that the gentleman fisherman is bad luck.  Sure enough. Eddie gives up a second time and wanders back to the car for air cooled space.  He had no more reached the car when George hooked a 3.5 fish.  So, with or 5 gallon full of water and fish, we go back to the Bubbas’ office space…cash register, ice machine, scales to weight your catch and a fish cleaning station.  We were weighed, filleted  and paid in about 10 minutes and on our way to the winery.  Our timeline was a little delayed, so the winery parking was almost non existent and the walk was pretty long.  Eddie stayed put and we dashed in for a couple of bottles of favorites…we were just doing the tasting because it was free.  

We spent the afternoon preparing for dinner and for Lauren and family’s evening arrival…so, I will be busy the few days…stay tuned.  

99 Bottles of Bourbon in the Car

99 bottles of Bourbon in the car, 99 bottles of Bourbon in the car…take one down and pass it around 98 bottles of bourbon in the car.  Our trail riders are mounted up and ready to ride to the last two distilleries and stamps in the book to conclude this part of the trip.  My readers will note, this is Day 7 of our trip…and we all know our Eddie, after 3 days of heavy traveling, touring, eating and drinking…Eddie normally requires a “me day”…we are Day 7…the Master Planner Eddie’s has yet to have a me day…guess he is channeling his interKaren.    However, when climbing out of bed at 7:30 every morning to drive, drink, drive, repeat, he admitted that the pace was a little grueling.  You think?  

Learning from the previous day of no breakfast, we all ate before leaving the Hampton Inn.  We arrived at the Lexington Brewing Company a few minutes before opening at 10:00.  This was a tasting only affair.  They had bathrooms and running water, so I was happy.  It made the cut because it was open on Wednesday, fit the travel direction and was the only beer and spirit brewery/Distillery in Kentucky.  Of course, it was another stamp in the book.  While their Town Branch brand is widely available around the country, some of their Irish whiskey and single barrel offerings are not.  They are part of a larger international operation that has another distillery in Scotland.  So, because this place did both, you could taste both.  Okay, how many of you bet against the house and thought Eddie would take a day off from tasting?  House wins.  Eddie sampled the various spirits.  We left with a bottle and two 4 packs of barrel aged beer.  George told him that you could get it at H‑E‑B, but Eddie liked the guy doing the tasting…he was from Corpus Christi.  I asked if it was good, he said the 12 year old was decent…not sure whether Eddie’s brain has become pickled, or the Master Card moment has become automatic muscle memory.  At these prices, I feel “decent” can stay on the shelf….we need descriptions like outstanding, one of the better, extraordinarily smooth, wonderfully drinkable…on to our next stop. 

This was our final stop. It was a really interesting area.  Some old circa 19th century brick rickhouses, which may or may not have had barrels in the upper floors-the first floor was a bunch of funky shops or small eateries, there were food trucks, converted brick buildings with coffee shops, a bakery, ice cream shops, couple of breweries and at the end of it all two different distilleries.  Eddie only knew about James Pepper.  We arrived for a tour and tasting at 10:20ish.  Anxious to get on the road for a 5-6 hour drive to Blowing Rock, he again sweet talked the tasting gal into doing what he wanted not what was the regular tasting selection…she must have seen the Master Card in his hand.  George must have reviewed his Master Card billing because he tasted but passed on the purchase.  Smart boy.  He comes over frequently enough that if he wants a pour of a bourbon left behind we can oblige him.  The Barrel House distillery opened too late for the boys to visit.  The entire vibe and concept was great. I am sure UK students are there every night of the week.  

With all of our purchases literally stuffed into every nook and cranny of the car, we are off to North Carolina, via Virginia and Tennessee.  No orange barrels, good two lane roads over and around mountains…lots of coal trucks.  Thank goodness for the passing lanes.  I was behind the wheel for the first four hours, Eddie on passenger door handle and right hand floor brake.  The weather forecast was questionable, so arriving earlier rather than later, dry instead of wet was all I could hope for.  

We arrived at the Fire and Ice Cabin at 4:30.  Again, Eddie selected the cabins that we could choose from.  I just had a few qualifiers…I did not want to be on the Banner Elk side of Boone. If he selected Banner Elk which has newer places and nicer restaurants, it is a hard pick for groceries and activities. The highway is around the mountain and down in heavy traffic.  I wanted enough bedrooms and bathrooms that there was no waiting or fighting.  So, he presented a few options and Fire and Ice won…pool table, air hockey table, pac man arcade game, foosball I guess sealed the deal.  I was vaguely familiar with where it was.  We had stayed in a log cabin 6 years ago near the bottom of the “ski mountain” on the outskirts of Blowing Rock.  This place it off the paved road at the top of ski mountain, sharp right then a mile long narrow (read fall off on passenger side, hug the trees) gravel one way loop.  Fire and Ice is maybe second or third from the end of the loop.  There are probably 20 houses on the loop, no street or other lights to guide you.  The really deep drop off are marked with the dyi Wal Mart red light sticks…yay!  Dinner reservations are for 8:15 Thursday night.  Once again, I will be the designated driver….at night, no lights, and a possibility of rain-what could go wrong.  You might ask if I have FOMA at not participating in the tastings…nope.  By the time all of this bourbon gets home, I can have a private tasting (we have medicine cups) of all the Cadillac, Tesla, Mercedes, Bentley brands out there.  Nah, I am good. 

Thursday morning we were awoken by the wonderful sound of rain in the trees and on the metal roof, temperatures in the low 60’s.  Makes the long drive all worthwhile.  I had put in an advanced grocery order and left early to pick it up.  I was relying on memory of how to go the back way through the college town of Boone.  Got to Harris Teeter (a much better Kroger owned-regionally brand store in NC) and went to the one lane (yes, one lane for advance order pick up) and texted my arrival.     It was quick, but one lane…can you imagine one lane at H‑E‑B….the riots would make national news.  I tried to get fancy on the way home and took a wrong turn in the rain.  When I saw the golfers with umbrellas in the rain, I kinda knew I was off the normal Route back to Blowing Rock.  Despite being directional challenged, I thought I could figure it without with our lady of the car’s help.  I found the home office of Samaritan’s Purse (huge outreach arm of the Billy Graham ministries)…never had seen them before, also some big, bigger, biggest homes, and some unpaved roads…not on the mountain top, more valley.  I finally gave up and asked our lady of the car to help me get back to Fire and Ice. Better not tell Eddie, he will insist on drive home after drinks and dinner tonight.  

I arrived home a little before ten.  Since I am Eddie this trip, I let him unpack and put up him the groceries and supplies…you would think that for a 3 week stay they would have given us more than two rolls of toilet paper, two dishwashing pods, and one roll of paper towel….particularly at the price we are paying.  Nope, there it is in the contract what will and will not be provided regardless of length of stay…so there were lots of groceries  and supplies to unload.   I grabbed George and we set off to have massages and eat lunch…Eddie was assigned the laundry duty, he could eat what was purchased at the store.….it is good to be Eddie on this trip.   

I hear Bangos

Okay, Eddie, today’s selections were seriously curve balls in the trail…the trail, very apt description!  Our first stop was way off the beaten path of the Frankfort and Lexington civilized distilleries.  Our lady of the car (she had to phone a friend -Google Maps) was even confused, particularly when the paved road ended and the gravel roads and corn fields began.  There-high on the hill the tell tale rick house in all of it black fungi glory, alerting us that we were close to The Whiskey Thief Distillery previously known as Three Bros. Distillery…yeah, it takes lots of front money and time for bourbon, the little guys don’t always make it.  We rounded the corner field and there it was.  A couple of buildings, a gravel parking lot and a 4 hole outhouse…so, no sewers or septic tanks and they are making bourbon.  Glad I am the designated driver.  Eddie explained that this was a unique concept.  You (the designated drinker) gets 5 barrel pulls from five selected barrels.  If you want to purchase a bottle, you pull and fill you bottle, they take it with which barrel it came from.  There is no retail or wholesale market.  Just a bunch of college aged kids over serving visitors.  The pull is a long copper tube that is inserted into the barrel through the bung hole (such language).  That tool is actually called a Whiskey Thief…betcha Eddie does not (yet) have one of those in his shop.    Three Bros. went bankrupt, Whiskey Thief rebranded and reimagined how they could market their small craft bourbon in a crowded field (no pun intended).   There are no tours, no discussion of the mash bill and corn to rye ratio, no staves that have been charred.  Five whiskey barrels lined up on the concrete floor, each with an open bung hole and a whiskey thief sticking out.  You are handed a  glencairn tasting glass.  These fancy little glasses are an upgrade to the glasses/Shot glasses or medicine cups used just two years ago.  They are all the rage…some let you keep the glasses, some make you buy it in the gift shop.  Whiskey Thief had no such gift shop (if they did not have bathrooms, a gift shop was out of the question), and had not gone to the trouble to have etched or printed logos on the glasses.  Like I said, concrete floors, five barrels and a long line at 10:00 AM in the middle of no where anxious to get their taste of barrel strength (110 proof…probably).  College students are eager to please so the pulls were more than the thimbles full, this was a hefty pour…Eddie had not had breakfast, George grabbed a bagel at the breakfast bar.  One, two, three, four, five….you bought a bottle, let’s celebrate…six…don’t want to waste any…yikes!

Needless to say, I drove the party wagon to our next stop.  Woohoo!  Remember my DSP numbers thing. Since I am Eddie this trip,  I made up the meaning is a previous post.  It is Distilled Spirits Permit not Still.  Right now a low number of DSP-KY gives you a bragging rights and that air of authenticity and history.  Funny what people look for while on the trail.  This about an actual named descendant of J.Mattingly that had the DSP-KY-2 (along with another fellow Bernheim who also had DSP-KY-1 by himself).  Well, Jeff Mattingly decided to grab his roots and re-enter the all ready crowded market.  Did he get the number back from Heaven Hill-what do you think?  He is number DSP-KY-20031, nope…figure HH had something to do with the inability to grab your old number rule.  We were suppose to have a tour and tasting, Eddie wanted to cut to the chase and just taste…heck he had not had a drink in a good 20 minutes, so needed to keep the party rolling.  They bellied up to the bar (while I sat in the bar area seating) and did what they do best, 5 tastes and Master Card moment.  Almost always the single barrel bottle…limited to 185 (plus or minus based on the Angel’s share (read Evaporation during aging) bottles.  For those of you keeping score, we are the eleventh stop, two boys, 11x2+random liquor store purchases=upwards of 28 bottles…where is Amazon when you need a another carrier.  Good grief.  Hope Eddie lives long enough to consume all of these purchases.  

Did I happen to mention that this Distillery was right across the street from Buffalo Trace Distillery (BTD is the local shorthand) -the Trail’s Mecca?  George has already determined earlier in the day the bourbon of the day at the distillery is the horse topped Blanton’s, for a mere $69.99, one to the customer every 90 days.  Of course we are going to get our one per customer, don’t be silly…along with about 200  other bourbon people.  Looks like a Black Friday Sale at Macy’s before the internet…wild!  Since they continually restocking the bourbon of the day, no standing in line, just pass through the security stop.  They put a tracking chip bracelets in you in case you get lost or are too curious…oh yeah, you don’t have to pay for a  tasting…read, more bourbon before food.  Even Eddie passed. 

Post hardy lunch-lots of bread, protein and water, the boys were ready to roll to our final stop of the day,   Glenn Creek Distillery.  Here again, we were off the main road, down by the banks of the Kentucky River.  At the end of the road was probably the oldest and black bunch of Rick house (original 1800 brick construction) along with a blackened distillery operation.  The Rick house belong to Jim Beam these days, but this serene setting was were the Old Crow distillery stood…Old Crow was the #1 whiskey in the world…Mark Twain and William Faulkner were big fans…a late change to the recipe (a la Coca Coke) in the latter part of the 20th century signal the downfall of the brand.  Jim Beam purchased the operation.  Old Crow is still produced by Beam, but is a bottom shelf affair as it is only aged 3 years.  The distillery portion was purchased by Glenn Creek in 2013 to the be a small batch craft distillery.  I don’t think anyone has cleanup since James Crow was here.  The port-a-potty was a signal that I would wait in the car for this stop.  The owner, Dave, was out of town on vaca….hmmm, and we paid for a tour and tasting in April…how does that work?  No refund, no exchanges.  Disappointed because the tour was a history lesson on the rise and fall of Old Crow along with the usual stuff.  Dave and company left a kid, maybe not even drinking age, in charge of the shop.  Nice kid, could repeat most of the history kinda of sorta, but lacked experience….5 more moderate medicine cups of bourbon..and the now expected purchase of the single barrel offering.  

It is 2:30, our party boys have quieted down considerably.  Between the Lady of the Car and I, we made it to the hotel.  Eddie rallied momentary to check us in to the two room (yay) while George and I played car Jenga.  Guess what happened next?  Lots of water, then 3 hour naps for the boys.  Looking across the table at dinner, I could see blood shot eyes, and a little throbbing temples.  The party was fun while it lasted…Eddie stated that he was planning on just doing the tours on Wednesday, and not tasting….I am taking odds on that one.  

Bourbon Trail Day 3

 🎶It’s  all about the Bourbon, ‘bout the Bourbon, no vodka🎶

Well, have to hand it to Eddie’s Master Plan as Monday was so different to anything we had experienced in the previous tours.  When he got an “atta a boy” pat on the back for job well done (since I am Eddie this trip, those can be few and far between) he explained he tried to select distilleries that were both well reviewed, fit our travel schedule and provided different styled touring and tasting.  

Before I launch into the Whiskey Touring, I have to share a classic Eddie story.  Remembering that Eddie planned and booked everything with no input from either George or myself, let’s talk about Louisville accommodations.  He had prided himself that he had booked two adjoining rooms for the entire trip, with the sole exception being  the Bed and Breakfast as the options for a second room were not available.  I had an inkling that Louisville was only one room as I receive the “check in now” email about 12 hours out.  There were two emails for check in Arkansas, but only one in Louisville.  Hmmm.  When he went to check in while George and I handled car logistics (read unpacking and shifting items so they were covered under the black sheet we carry for such stealth operations in my Hyundai).  Eddie comes stomping back to the car displaying his “something is not right, someone (not him) has made a mistake” scowl.  He quickly mansplains there has been a corporate or internet mistake because he booked two rooms for two nights in Louisville and where is the hard copy of the two reservations.  They wanted another $400 for the two night for an additional room, which is almost a $1,000 for two nights which is ridiculous.  Please note after the tastings we have had, Eddie has not gone blind, but lost his ability to add 4+4.  I sweetly replayed my version of “not it”…but I could retrieve the one email I had received showing the confirmation number and number of people.  Yeah, Hilton 1-Eddie 0.  Since we were in a King Suite with foldout sofa, we would make do for another two nights in one room…snoring males, and one toilet, but breakfast for all.  This all occurred about the time George hoisted the 12 bottle reinforced carrier (Thanks, Amazon) holding about two nights at the Hilton (Eddie math style 4+4=10) worth of distillery only bourbon finds.  Yeah, we will make due for the cause.  

First up was Peerless Distillery.  The gentleman that led the tour was very good at presenting the history of the brand.  It is a smaller distillery based on output, but the backstory was wonderfully rich.  This distillery (Henderson Distillery) was started  in the 1890’s. The founder saw that Prohibition would ruin his his dream.  He knew that finding a way to bottle his product for “Medicinal Purposes” would secure the future to his product…Medicinal Purpose designation was hard to come by in those wild days before Prohibition.  Happen chance meeting of the Walgreens Brothers (yeah, those boys) made the Medicinal Purposes and the required doctor’s orders —a slam dunk. He survived Prohibition for his only child, a daughter and husband to take over.  Third generation was not interested in making whiskey…Military School with Allman Brothers (and expulsion), Patton’s adjunct, and  WWII were his jam.  The brand appeared to have died.    Enter Fourth and fifth generations…fourth was a WallStreet wiz (read money, early retirement), fifth open to change.  The Peerless Distillery was born, using the DSP-KY-50 (Distillers Still Permit) of the first generation…thanks, Ancestry.com.  You had to prove direct family roots to the founder..due to the involved process that is no longer an option.    We even saw fifth generation, Carson Taylor walking the floor of the still area.  While small, they are kosher (few are) and hold to the fashioned family operations, traditions and quality.  They have picking up several awards in past couple of years.  This is a brand to watch particularly in a corporate crowded field.  DSP-KY  numbers are currently in the 20,000+ range.  Whose number one and two….Heaven Hill, still family owned and operated.  Buffalo Trace is DSP-KY-113 several brands, but corporate owned.

Next up was the Evan Williams experience.  When the words “experience” is used on a Bourbon Tour, that means Disney or a slick Marketing Agency has been used to present the story.  Evan Williams does a good job on avoid hanging out by the Copper Still and Mash Tanks and discussing mash bill numbers.  To be able to purchase their distillery only bottles, you need a tour sticker and have made it to the second floor gift shop.  Our guide (as well as most of the front end employees) was/were retired school teachers.  They all appeared to be experienced bourbon drinkers…whether by location or by virtue of 4 decades in the classrooms of Louisville.  You pick.

The last one was an interesting selection…on so many levels.  We left Whiskey Row and headed to the other side of the tracks…yeah, the underbelly side of town…a tad on the sketchy side, but no obvious red danger warning flag.  The NULU neighborhood.  It is an area that has seemingly  abandoned Rick houses or distillery buildings, brick, metal or board turned black with the alcohol fungi that is ever present on most of the buildings.  But it is hard to tell, Louisville has had as many as 100 distillers…each had to someplace to make and age the bourbon in it American Oak barrels.  Prohibition Distillery is one part small craft distillery, one part speak-easy as you had to knock on the door and tell them why you where there, and one part a Netflix movie waiting to be made.  Our tasting hostess, Willow, is one of a small handful of original employees.  The original operation paired a master distiller, Harrison/Harry with his bff and  financial wizard, Brian, who set out to create a small batch craft bourbon.  Turns out Brian was a con man, stole all of the employees personal information, took out $2 million in loans in their names, never using the money to get the necessary DSP and Tax ID, all the while creating a paper trail that made Harry look like the guilty party.  By the time the web of deception was unraveled, Brian was in the wind.  The lawyers took pity on Harry.  Harry had also been charged with bootlegging and moonshining.  His product was destined to be destroyed.  The lawyers found enough investors, and clears his name, the fraud against its employees credit records, and reputation to be able to bottle the NULU bourbon and rye lines.    What happened to Brian?  Turns out he used his brother’s pictures and information for all of his accounts…his brother had to clear his name, too.   Brian stayed low until the status of limitations ran (7 years, for you non lawyer types).  Willow said distillery gossip has him in business with another sucker, I mean distiller.  It is a story that would make a great 90-115 minute movie.  Willow could play herself….she was an interesting character, for sure.  

As an observer on this Bourbon Tour, it reminds me of small boys in a toy store with money burning a hole in their respective pockets.  Ed and George have similar taste palettes, they typically like the same bourbons.  While almost none of the small batch stuff is available in Texas, the larger names are all there.  They have both focused on Single Barrel Bourbons…which are not sold anywhere except the distillery. Couldn’t they share.  Most have tasting glasses or jiggers for sale or give away.  Then there are tee shirts, christmas ornaments and let’s not forget a Cocktail or recipe book.  The boys come to the car loaded down. They have bottle bags and souvenir bags…and a goofy red cheek glow.   Boys and their toys…