
The morning of day four is a carbon copy of days two and three. Disembarking from Louisville is significantly delayed, as wake-up calls and alarms are ineffective against drunken slumber. Departure is hampered further as luggage had to be packed before clamoring to the vans. A breakfast stop at Cracker Barrel provides our first taste of real biscuits, white gravy and grits – we will soon be addicted.
Today we visit some other members of the Bourbon Trail. We drive by the sprawling metropolis of Jim Beam-land, en route to a tour of Buffalo Trace distillery. We feel like we’ve stumbled on to a movie set, strolling through silent streets of the massive production plant. Biases aside, this distillery feels like a factory, far removed from the intimate character of our cathedral in lovely Loretto. They do make outstanding Bourbon however, and lots of it.
Another jaunt down the highway brings us to the Spanish Mission-styled world of Four Roses, and an educational chat with Bourbon scientist and respected Master Distiller, Jim Rutledge. Heads are involuntarily bobbing in our ranks, as the self-abuse of the last few nights has our bodies trying to tell us what we should be doing. No time for napping; there’s one more stop before we head for Lexington. Wild Turkey is the last place on today’s trail. We’re hoping to meet legendary distiller Jimmy Russell. No dice, so instead we raid the gift shops; emerging with an array of whosits and whatsits, we then scurry back to the vans.

Somehow, a second wind blows in – its name: Pabst Blue Ribbon. Next we attend to growling stomachs. KFC is a unanimously exciting proposition. Soon we are silent with deep-fried bliss, save for fervent finger-lickin’. And yes, it does taste better in Kentucky.
We roll south into the heart of horse country and a date with the races in Lexington. Its Downtown Hilton is on a different planet from our sexy lodging in Louisville, but beds are beds, and we are ever so grateful to stop moving. That being said, we are professionals; so we show up in the lobby bar slightly ahead of the time stated on our itinerary – making sure we can get some pre-dinner drinking done. Kentucky Ale is made in town at the Lexington Brewing & Distilling Company, and is the perfect partner in a “Boilermaker’s Mark”.

The Bigg Blue Martini (yes, my spell-check is working) is the hotel’s Bar. We all cringe a little every time we have to say it, though we will spend more time there than memories may attest. The craft of Bartending is not particularly embraced in this city, as quantity takes preference over quality. They also don’t seem to actually stock shot glasses, in this bar at least. Things are bigger here; measurements are random, and shots are taken in rocks glasses – full to the brim. Lexington is a college town; home to the University of Kentucky. Wildcat pride looms large, and our corner of the city is rife with big, fun, dirty bars.
Dinner is short and sweet, and I make a speedy exit to hopefully find a screen showing our boys beating the Kings. There is no joy for a Canucks fan in Lexington, so watching it on a laptop in the hotel lobby will have to do. In the background, the party rages on at Bigg Blue. Soon, most of our group heads out on the town to experience the college bars – like moths to a flame. I am comfortably tipsy and satisfied with another Vancouver win, so it’s off to bed, saving my precious few remaining brain cells for tomorrow.
Our last full day in Kentucky is all about the horses. This weekend is affectionately known as “Thoroughbreds and Redheads”, and Maker’s Mark rules the town. Keeneland Race Course is the beloved heart of racing in Lexington. Though not as large or well known as Churchill Downs, it is deeply entrenched in the hearts of the racing and breeding community. It is full of intimate character and rich in history.
The Maker’s Mark Mile is the most anticipated contest of the day, but there’s a lot to do before then. First, we have to get out of bed.
The vans roll out early for the racetrack, as we head to witness the annual Maker’s Mark bottle signing. Every year, the distillery produces a wide range of special limited edition bottles – for assorted charities and to honour events or individuals. These bottles all retain the iconic shape and wax seal, but the colours and graphics are tweaked to suit the theme. Among these editions, is the annual tribute bottle to the University of Kentucky.
This year, the bottle is dressed in honour of their football Coach, Rich Brooks. The opaque, white bottle is sealed in Wildcat Blue wax, and carries the image of the much loved leader. The 16,000 bottles produced sold out the day they were released to the public. This morning the bottle signers are Bill Samuels Jr., Coach Brooks, and Nick Nicholson – President of Keeneland. The lineup of UK faithful began last night, clutching their special bottles and robed in team colours; a human sea of blue and white.
We hit the racetrack kitchen for breakfast with the jockeys. The biscuits & gravy are the best yet, and the sensation courses through our bodies like a drug. “Yes ma’am, I will have cheese on that please, and thank you for asking.”

Back to the hotel to get ready for the races – we emerge from our rooms an hour later, dressed in our best suits and ties. The “Kentucky Room” dress code at Keeneland will accept no less. I love the way you carry yourself in a suit; even when drunk, you’re subconsciously aware of poise and posture. We feel like we might just be worthy of the event – by appearances anyways.
The rain is coming down pretty good now, and thunder rolls as we approach Keeneland. Fortunately it doesn’t last, and the day’s events are unthreatened. The weather in Kentucky continues to undulate as much as our recesses are from breakfast. The grounds are overrun with suited gentlemen and lovely ladies in their best dresses and hats – quite the contrast from a few hours ago. We make our way up, high above the grandstand to the Kentucky Room, where the Maker’s Mark is already flowing. Lunch, then a tour of the facility ensues. The facility is gorgeous, and meticulously manicured. Having never been to a racetrack of this pedigree, it’s absolutely compelling to get up close with the horses as they are paraded out like gladiators.

It’s back to out seats to watch the races; anticipation building as we try to decipher our race guides. The Maker’s Mark Mile is run, and bets are placed and lost. We hit track level for the last race of the day, leaning over the railing as they come down the home stretch. Feeling the rumbling of a dozen thoroughbreds storming by – now that’s fun. No big money winners in our group, but no matter, as the experience is what it’s all about. Plus, its fun to play dress-up. Keeneland empties out after race day ends, and we lumber back to the hotel to work up an appetite for the night’s events.
Tonight is the big finale. A massive farewell and thank you for the Maker’s Mark army of ambassadors: The Speakeasy Social. Giant tents have been constructed over an outdoor party for thousands of Bourbon lovers dressed in prohibition era-themed costumes – Zoot suits and flapper girls as far as the eye could see.

Beers are 3 bucks and a glass of Maker’s is 2 smackers. The stage sparkles with musicians and performers that belt out danceable favourites with fervor and talent.
The ceiling resembles the Fremont Street Experience in Vegas, as multi-coloured lights shimmer across the tent’s inner surfaces. Man, does Maker’s Mark know how to show a good time. The night rages on, though feelings are a touch bittersweet; as this is our last night in Kentucky – we gotta wake up some time.
Our final day begins mercifully late; the reek of Bourbon particularly thick in our clothes. Some members of the troupe are unable to fathom food – for the brave, our last spoonfuls of proper grits are savoured with tipple-tortured taste buds.
We extend reluctant goodbyes and sincere gratitude to our multitude of hosts, but are unconvinced that words do our indebtedness justice. On the drive to Louisville airport, we recall our favourite moments and laugh at each other’s expense, reminiscing before we’ve even left. This week has been a dream, with expectations exceeded and goofy grins to show for it. Every single person at Maker’s Mark tirelessly went out of his or her way to create our one-of-a-kind experience. We feel a deeper credence for our beloved Bourbon – now able to share our pride and joy with an intimate knowledge and unparalleled affection. Back home and behind the wood again, we hope our guests will ask about the redhead on the shelf behind us – so we may get the chance to wax poetic about our favourite Southern belle.
~ Jay Jones (April 2009)
















{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }
Everybody get’s treated equally,There’s no “one- of- a- kind experience”..We’re all treated with royalty in mind .The employees are of the finest quality.It show’s in what they produce,Bourbon and Hospitality.