End of the Jedi

The end of year holiday season always brings a bustle of activity. Parties, shopping, travel, family, decorating, baking, eating, drinking...

It's quite the whirlwind, even for the most grounded of people. And being grounded is not something I'm usually accused of. Even though I've been working on simplifying my life, I did not quite escape the frenzy. However, as I found myself whisked about here and there between the currents of traditions, obligations, and nostalgia, I was somehow able to maintain a sense of calm through it all.

One of the highlights for me from the past couple of weeks was seeing the new Star Wars movie - The Last Jedi. In listening to bits of the soundtrack, I stumbled upon a young composer who writes his own music in the style of various popular culture themes. This poignant piano piece touches that calm, soft place within that is perhaps what allows us to find guiding stars in the swirling night: End of the Jedi by Lucas King.

I met with a few friends at the new Alamo Drafthouse. I had never been to one of these movie houses before, and I was looking forward to being served a dram directly at my seat while I watched the story of the Resistance unfold.

The theatre was bedecked appropriately with a blow-up R2D2 and Darth Vader and a Christmas tree covered in various Star Wars themed ornaments with several mini light sabers, to boot. There were also several fans dressed in various costumes milling about.

I had read the menu ahead of time and was excited to enjoy the company of a good ol' Islay - Oban 14. When we originally met I knew that nothing significant would come of it, but it was good to reconnect with him -  a stout and smoky lad. The lights went down before I had a chance to snap a picture, but he was a warm and delightful companion to watch the movie with.

A couple of days later, it was time for Potter's Craft Cider's annual Wassail. This event is a young tradition that I am proud to have been a part of since its creation, four years ago. In past years it has been very rainy, but this year the sun was shining and the skies were clear. It was cold, but more brisk than bitter - the perfect weather to enjoy the last bit of autumn with the fresh scent of apples and cider drifting in the air.

  

This perfect day was made more so by the delicious food provided by Bo Hatchet Catering. This was my first time trying their food, and I was thoroughly impressed. Their veggie option was butternut squash soup, topped with cream and roasted sage, and served with jalapeño corn bread. It was superb.

For drink, I opted to go with Potter's Craft Highland Cider, which is aged in VA distillery's Highland Malt Whisky barrels. Those barrels initially hold bourbon as it ages, then the sweet seasoned wood is filled with whisky brewed and distilled in Scotland, and finally the barrels give of themselves again to age the cider.

I sipped slowly, and contemplated the molecular level swirls of interactions - between whisky, wood, and cider. The sun began to set, and I found myself in one of those moments of calm. Grateful for the nourishing comfort food, the music, the friends, and the festivities - I marveled at the beauty of tradition and connection.


That same night was a work party that I wasn't exactly excited about attending, but I promised one of my coworkers that I'd introduce her to a Scotch. The menu wasn't extensive, but Glenlivet would be there. I knew he was a decent enough lad to enjoy a conversation with, and I thought he was also mild enough for a first timer.

The party was at Wild Wing Cafe and the kind waitress, Jeanie, obliged me by posing with the Scotch. She poured two drams and I brought one over to my friend. My friend took one small sip...and then walked the other way. She had no interest in him.

I sighed, remembering a phrase I often say: you don't develop a taste for whisky until the burn of your life makes the burn of the whisky pale in comparison. I wouldn't say she's had an easy life, but she is young yet and clearly not ready for the whisky.

I also drank a beer that night - Goodwood's Bourbon Barrel Stout. It was quite delicious, and again I thought of those currents that run between. I wondered if the barrel used to age the beer I was drinking then might have also crossed paths with any of the other spirits I'd had in the past days.

The next week things ramped up: to-do lists grew while the time passed quickly. Thankfully, life - as does nature - provides us up with opportunities for balance. As I swirled through the days and activities, I found myself tapping into a deeper rhythm. Like the eddies in rivers and rapids, the hectic pace of our days naturally will ebb and flow, and if we pay attention we can catch those little calm spots where sometimes the current stands still or even flows back.

There are respites built into the fabric of things, if only we decide to find them. 

I found one of these eddies at an impromptu meeting with another friend of mine. We stopped by BJ's, a new taphouse in town, and it turns out they had a Scotch I hadn't yet tried - Glenfiddich 14 - Bourbon Barrel Reserve. I also ended up running into another friend I hadn't seen in a while, completely randomly.

It reminded me of how we need to make space in our life for the hands of serendipity to reach us. It's not just for our sanity that we must find the eddies amongst the rapids, it's for our greater destinies. It's in the calm and gentle swirls of quiet moments with friends, with our thoughts, with our dreams - that's where we find the resources to leap back out into the fray and continue on our journeys.

Perhaps it was the influence of the season, but this Glen tasted a bit like Christmas to me. The smoke and spice were there, but also a bit of salt or brine, and a hint of pine. 

The next day I traveled back home. I found that even the time spent there, while generally hectic and overwhelming, did not seem to unsettle me as much as it usually did. In fact, I had a wonderful time seeing family and friends, filled with laughter and love.

On Christmas morning I was surprised and warmed by the sight of Talisker Storm under the tree - he had come home to me, and I was so happy to see him.

Perhaps it is the impending end of the year or perhaps it is the poignancy of traditions, in general. But it seems there are pauses and moments that want us to find them. Those little safe havens amidst the rapids of life that we long for - somehow also seem to long for us. Don't deny those moments, because then you deny yourself, as well. Go to them, take a bottle of your favorite dram, and rest in those spaces before heading out into the rapids of life again.


 

Women Who Whiskey - Part II

The Women Who Whiskey event was, very simply, a great time. (Read about part I here.) It was well run and organized and at the same time very laid back and comfortable. Sometimes life gives us these little treats of a day: feel-good weekend afternoons with good music, good friends, and good spirits. You can't go wrong with a mix like that, really. Like a classic dance song, it's guaranteed to lift the mood of those who come along.

If you're feeling a little ho-hum and need a change, call a friend, grab a dram, and listen to this ageless number by by Blue Swede - Hooked on a Feeling:

It was a beautiful Fall day with clear skies and mild temperatures. A little chill on the air reminded us that winter was near, but the sunshine and blue skies assured us that it was not there yet. After my friend and I met a few of the local fellows and listened to some live music from the band, we were hungry.

There were two wonderful food truck options available to us: Blue Mountain Grill and Spiked Booze Infused Sliders & Subs. It was hard to decide, but I finally went with the veggie tacos from the Spiked Truck and the Pumpkin Cheesecake from Blue Mountain. My friend got the soup and grilled cheese from Blue Mountain. It was all fantastic.

One of the coolest parts about the event was meeting all the interesting folks who were tasting and pouring the whiskeys and other spirits. There were also a few booths offering edible wares. The good feeling vibe pervaded every stop we made. It was clear that the folks there were passionate about their craft, whichever it was.

At many of the booths, it was the owners or creators of the companies offering samples. It was quite a treat to meet, first hand, the very person(s) who created the spirit I was about to meet or the food I was about to eat.

We met Izzy from Caramont Farm, and John and Nancy from Goodwin Creek Bakery. It was hard to choose, but my friend and I both decided to buy a baguette for the trip home.


Bill from KO distilling was there with several of his fellows. His name tag identified his position of "Thirst Responder," which I found very clever and amusing. Through conversation I also realized that he was one of the founding partners of the distillery.

I introduced myself to two of the whiskies - the Virginia Moon White Whiskey and their newest - Bare Knuckle Bourbon. The White Whiskey was intense, as Bill warned me he would be. I accepted the offer to temper this one with a bit of pineapple juice. The Bourbon, though, was smooth peppery spice with a musky finish. This newest addition to the KO family fit right in with the theme of the event. The front label features a historical woman who was a boxer, and the back label offers homage to women, in general, who have fought for their families, their voices, and their dreams.


As we sat listening to music, we met a woman who had done all of these things. Diana was a new business owner having recently added entrepreneur to her other titles of veteran and mother. She told us of her confectionery creations, and a little of the story behind the inception of her business, Lillie Pad Creations. - "If you don't find what you love, you're just gonna die."

Lately I've been hearing this sentiment from more and more people. There seems to be a collective awareness rising about the importance of following your passion.


 Looking around at all the people at this event who are bravely entering into the risky venture of running their own businesses, it was inspiring. Some of the businesses have been around for generations and some are barely a few years old, but there is that common bond. The road is the same, even if they are at different points along it, and one can act as mentor for another.

The importance of having a mentor or guide in ventures such as this cannot be underestimated; forging a path down these roads is always challenging, and often risky.
 

And yet, you can't let that stop you. As Diana told us, you need to find what you love. I would take that a step further, as well. You need to find what makes you come alive...and then you've got to go and do it.

 

 Success is guaranteed to no one, but if you never try, it's guaranteed that you'll never succeed.

As I contemplated these thoughts, we continued to visit the different booths and meet more of the local fellows. At the Vitae both, I tasted the Golden Rum, which was sweet and creamy. It probably would have paired well with the pumpkin cheesecake, but my timing was off and I finished the rum before the cheesecake showed up.

One of the last stops I made in the day was to the A. Smith Bowman booth. Jacob and Tori, who were pouring, introduced the selection of brothers with the boast of being the oldest legal distillery in Virginia. I try not to let lineage impress me too much when I meet a new whiskey, but the next fact they told me about peaked my curiosity. Bowman's Single Barrel Bourbon is the first whiskey ever to win the "World's Best" competition two years in a row. There's a lot to be said for consistency and quality in that statement. 

There were a few others there I wanted to meet as well but it was getting late in the day, and I had the conversations of the many new fellows I met swirling in my head. I had a short conversation with the esteemed Single Barrel Bourbon and I was quite impressed, to be honest. He was smooth, sweet, and balanced. I knew I'd have to make plans to meet him (and his Port Finished brother) in the near future.

Soon after, we realized that sunset was near and it was time to go. I took one last quick walk around to at least shake hands with some of the fellows I didn't get a chance to chat with: the Kopper Kettle boys from Belmont, the group from Chesepeake Bay, and the lone rogue from Ironclad.

Happy and sated, my friend and I gathered our wares and headed back for the bus ride with Earl. As we neared the end of our journey, the Blue Swede song came on the bus radio and we all sang along. It was a perfect ending to the day.

Women Who Whiskey - Part I

I love the Scotch lads, and the journey to find the perfect Scotch has been amazing. With the recent scarcity of Talisker Storm, however, it has occurred to me that perhaps I should broaden my horizons. There are lot of whiskeys of different styles, tastes, and backgrounds, right here in my own state. Maybe spending more time with the fellows closer to home would be a refreshing change.

So when I heard of a nearby event - Women Who Whisky - this seemed like a perfect opportunity. There would be eight different local distilleries represented, each presenting a few different gentlemen, at least. Local options never fail to impress when it comes to music, so I expected it would be the same with the whiskey. The Sally Rose Band is a perfect example of the amazing local music that is around this area.

Sally is a talented musician, songwriter, and performer. Her music is funky and jazzy with beautiful southern soul melodies, and her band was scheduled to play at the whiskey tasting event. It was promising to be a wonderful time. I asked a friend to come along with me, and we planned to go for the day. Have a taste of what's local and listen to the Sally Rose Band perform Bones:

The event was very well planned and organized. It was hosted at Virginia Distillery, and run by the Virginia Distillers Association. Parking was off site, and we were shuttled by Cville Hop On Tours a few miles down the road to the tasting.

Every single person who was part of this event was super friendly. Our first experience of this was with Earl, the driver who shuttled us to the warehouse where the tasting was being held. His bus was bedazzled in stickers from all of the distilleries, breweries and vineyards he had travelled to.

The weather was great, the passengers were in good spirits, and it really set a great tone for the rest of the day. We were ready to meet some great new whiskies and have an amazing time doing it.

Something that I noticed right away about a lot of these local fellows, is that they were very natural. Many of the distilleries try to use only local ingredients and often organic as well. This is very impressive to me.

The first group we decided to meet was the Belle Isle brothers. Made from 100% organic corn, there were four there: Their original premium moonshine, ruby red grapefruit, honey habanero, and cold brew coffee flavors. I started with the original. A clear spirit, and its taste was sweet and spicy, sharp and creamy.

The first impression was a good one. My friend started a conversation with the coffee fellow, and I butted in a bit. One sip of the coffee moonshine, and I was enamored. But this was just the first stop. It was early in the day, and there were lots more boys to meet. We thanked the folks and moved on.

We moved to the other side of the room, trying to find the least crowded table, and we came to meet Kyle of Dickie Brothers Orchard. My friend noticed the circa 1750 on their banner and inquired about that very impressive date. We learned that the land was originally sold to the family by King George II and the farm has stayed family-owned for 8 generations.

Kyle was offering apple sauce for sale, but also samples of local pippin apples soaked in some of the Virginia Distillery's Highland Malt. They were delicious. I'd met the VA Highland about a year ago, and he was very lovely. Like a Scotch in almost all ways but name, he had previously been my favorite local whisky. I was curious to see if that would change.

Since we had a taste for the Highland, we soon went over to the VA Distillery's table to see who was there to meet. They had the Port Finished Highland (the one I knew and loved) and a brother of his - a Cider Cask Finished whisky.

Marian, who was pouring, introduced me. The brother was nice enough, and I could see having a lot of fun with him on a camping trip in the summer, for example, or something like that. But to me, he didn't measure up to the original. It had been a while though, and although we couldn't spend too much time together at this event, I made a mental note to seek out the VA Highland again before too long.

Time was flying by as we stopped and chatted with the folks who worked at the distilleries, and then met and chatted with the various different whiskies. There were a lot to meet! And it wasn't just whisky, there was also rum and vodka as well. As always with group gatherings like this, I never seem to have enough time with any one particular fellow to really get to know him.

I wasn't too worried though. I reminded myself that this was just a tasting - a meet and greet to see who I might want to chat up afterwards. So my friend and I sat down with a bit of whiskey in our glasses to listen to the band play for a while. We didn't sit for too long, though - this day was really just beginning!

I Could Write

Recently, I was introduced to the singer, Ayla Nereo. I've come to love her songs for their upbeat, yet sometimes haunting melodies and also her thoughtful lyrics. I found this one song of hers, I Could Write, that speaks to me as a sort of stream-of-consciousness processing. Partly the process of writing, but more so the process of understanding events and making sense of this mixed up adventure of life.

Should you find yourself in a thoughtful mood, perhaps feeling a bit lost amidst the ways of loving and learning - find yourself a friendly dram and sip along, finding comfort in knowing you are not alone.

Although not in this one, there is mention of the moon in many of her songs. The moon has always been a source of comfort for me. We take it for granted, of course, but what magnificent miraculous beauty is this glowing orb that graces our skies! For those of us who are feeling creatures - sensing the emotions and thoughts of others, drawn to interaction and understanding, absorbing all - the moon's gentle reflected light is a precious respite from the torrents that come.

I think part of this comfort lies in the cyclical nature of her phases. Full moons are generally the most popular, but they fade. Yet they do so gradually, and when the new moon's darkness leaves our nights devoid of light, we can be sure that the waxing will return the radiance to us once again. Wouldn't it be lovely if more things in life were like this? What solace might we find, at each closing of a wonderful experience or relationship, in the certainty that it will come around again?

A week had passed after festival before I finally made it to the store to see Talisker Storm. Surely he would be back by now. I just assumed, and I didn't even consider the possibility that he might not be there.

When I entered the store I saw that they were doing tastings of Dr. Stoner's vodka and whisky. I was intrigued, and decided to meet this young gentlemen. Crystal, the woman hosting the event, told me a little about them as I tasted. Upon first sip of the smoky herb whiskey, I was delightfully surprised. He seemed like a very cool character. 

Crystal mentioned that he is quite popular with folks who like Scotch. I smiled, and started to tell her of my journey. We chatted for a bit as I got acquainted with the Doc. Then we said farewell and I went to find my beloved...but he was not there.

Things were more serious than I had originally thought. There wasn't much I could do though - if he wasn't there, he wasn't there. I considered buying a bottle of Dr. Stoner's, but it was too soon. So I left the store and went about my business. 

Another week went by, and another phase of the moon arrived. A friend I hadn't seen in a while wanted to meet for a whisky. He recently had heard of a mysterious speak-easy downtown, so we ventured there to find it. Sadly, it turned out that it had closed a long time ago.

So we ended up at Fellini's, where a new bartender was serving the drinks. Justin was very friendly and helpful. They had a limited number of Scotches there, but when he told me of Glenfiddich, I remembered the lovely meeting with him right around this time last year.

My friend and I chatted, and then another friend joined us. The three of us caught up and talked about dancing, relationships, and adventure. All the while I enjoyed the company of Glenfiddich.


Although the Islays and Talisker are my favorites, I would be lying if I said I didn't have a soft spot for the Speyside lads. They might not make things too exciting, but they always seem to make the night enjoyable.


He was as delightful as I remembered. A little bit of spice to highlight his sweet nature proved him quite balanced. And he was grounded in the slight hint of smoke and perhaps the faintest bit of ash. He's a lad I know I can count on and I hope to get to know him better.



Our conversations soon ended - between myself, the lad, and my friends - and we all went our separate ways. Walking back to my car on that mild autumn night, I saw the glorious moon in all her splendour, so I stopped for a while to enjoy the sight. 

After that night the swells of life carried me off to places where I had little time to worry about Talisker Storm, or even spend time with any of the other wonderful Scotches I've met.

But just as the moon, many things do tend to come around again...  The other night a friend messaged me to let me know that Talisker Storm was at the Whisky Jar. So we made plans and met up there a few nights later.

To be honest, I wasn't even sure how I felt about seeing him. Was his absence from the store a sign that I should move on and find another? Or should I have faith that he will return. I would love to have him home with me through the cold winter nights, but I know better than to trust too deeply in sands that are shifting.

Regardless of what musings I pondered for our future, that evening I decided to invite Talisker Storm to be with me at the bar, while I chatted with my friend. He was wonderful, of course. The smoky salt nose, the sweet spicy character, all of the complexities and traits that I love dancing on my tongue in perfect balance. "If I have to find another," I thought, "it is not going to be easy."

Enjoying the quiet sips of Talisker, reveling in the reunion, I continued the conversation with my friend. It was a great night overall and a much needed break from the busy rhythm that has dominated my days.

The full moon had returned again, and I thought of her cycles, her steadfast returning again and again. We humans have patterns we tend to follow as well, it seems, even if they are not as regular or obvious.

The best we can do is try to notice them, and understand them, and hopefully learn from them. A line from Ayla's song goes, "...and in the dark I see the spiral of my trail..."

Perhaps that is another comfort of the moon - to bring us just enough light in the darkness to see where we have been, and to know where we are going. Be it in cycles or spirals, without or within, the journey continues.

Trøllabundin

The first morning after the equinox I awoke in my tent to a cool morning, the air full of moisture. I suspected this was the new norm for the festival, being so close to the lake at the new campground. I thought of the balance between elements of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. There seems to be a progression of their states - Earth is the most stable and heavy; Water flows and moves easier, but is still bound by gravity; Air moves quickly and freely, and Fire is the most chaotic and unpredictable. Fire is the quickest to bring about transformation, yet in its realm there is only a fine line to cross into destruction.

On the first night of festival, after the planned music for the evening ended, the night's breath seemed to hold for a space before turning. Echoing the shift of equinox, things were balanced in the moment, but we all knew that moment was fleeting. These are times between. Threshold times. Magic times.

It was in this moment that one of the women there, who I had yet to meet, picked up her simple round frame drum, and began to sing a song. She beat an urgent and steady rhythm while slowly moving around the fire. Passion filled her being as she sang the words in a language I had never heard. At one point she paused to tell us what the lyrics of the song meant.

"This song is about a woman who falls in love with a wizard. And this wizard lights a fire in her soul. And now the wizard has gone and left her...but the fire remains."

This image, alongside the visceral resonance of the melody she sang, sent shivers through me. I watched, captivated, as she continued with the different parts of the song. Lyrics dissolved to melody which then transmuted into primal and powerful sounds. 

Several people came to her by the next day and she decided to offer an impromptu workshop on the song. From what I understood, it is a song originally recorded by Eivør. Yet there is a suggestion that it is much, much older. It is a song sung to the fire, and clearly - as whenever you are working with the flames - it is not something you do lightly.

So if you so dare, and you feel a fiery movement in your soul, and you have a fiery dram in your glass...light a match in the darkness, and listen to Trøllabundin:

When she finished singing, everyone listening cheered and hollered. We were all moved, and it set the night off in a fantastic fashion. Starting a night with a song like that is bound to make it memorable. Among many of the awesome things that happened, was the meeting of many whiskies.

A friend of mine at the festival had recently begun to attempt his hand at crafting single malts. He had mentioned this to me weeks before the festival and told me of several lads, in fact, who would be coming along for the trip. Knowing they would be there lessened the sting of not having Talisker Storm with me. At least I'd meet some new fellas, and maybe have some fun with them.

Of course, all of these lads were way too young, and none were from Scotland, but they were all single malts. My friend tried six different recipes, and labelled them all to keep track. I was humbly delighted to see my image on one of the labels, in honor of my journey. He turned out to be one of my favorites.

The first night as folks danced around the fire, we shared and tasted the spirits we had with us. My friend poured samples of his crew and many people partook in the meeting. But there was music and song and passion all around, so it was hard to keep any organized sense of which we liked the best.

Also, I was quite impressed with several of these lads, and yet my friend did not believe the worth of his new endeavor. So we planned a blind tasting for the next day, where we would take the Irishman single malt that I had brought, and mix it in with the six new lads from his crew. I was determined to convince him that he must continue distilling this whisky. If they were making such an impression at a mere several months old, I could only imagine what a few years would do.

The weather was perfect. The cool wet morning had ripened into a gentle breeze that danced in and out of the wonderfully warm first day of autumn. Around dinner time, my friend and I (and his flock of fellows) gathered around my picnic table for the tasting. We tried to keep everything as objective as possible. The cups were lined up and we proceeded down the line, sipping each, and sharing our perceptions as we went.

I recognized a few of the lads from the night before. Two were considerably sweeter than the rest and of those, one had a little more complexity to him.  Two others had the earthy peat flavor - one considerably more gentle than the other.  Most of them I got along just splendidly with. There were a couple, perhaps, that I wasn't that interested in for anything long term; but none I would mind dancing around the fire with.

Something that was common with all of these lads was that adding water actually made them less appealing. I chalked that up to their young age. They were simply too young yet to develop the layers and depth that adding the water releases.

When we finished tasting them all and grouping them into categories we revealed which was which. To be honest, tasting and comparing seven different whiskies at once is a little much. I actually lost track of a few and in some ways their personalities blended in to one another.

The important thing, however, is that my friend realized that his favorite of the seven was one of his own. This means, he will keep pursuing this craft. I'm excited to meet some of these lads again, when they have a little more time in the world. Good things come to those who wait, or so I hear.

The process of experimentation is an interesting and thrilling one. There are so many unknowns, so much potential, and yet no matter how much time you spend and how much work you put in - an experiment is never guaranteed to yield good results. There is a fine line there, as well, between something going so right and so wrong. Just like a fire's line between transformation and destruction. In fact, it seems there is an inherent component of destruction, and of failure - within the nobler goals of creation and discovery.

In order to tread into these fires, one must be brave, determined, and unafraid of failure. And perhaps just a little bit mad.  It is a magical alchemy, the realm of wizards...and too the realm of love. Abandon all certainty, ye who dare to fall in love. For you may find yourself left alone, spellbound by the fire burning in your soul.

Mabon Part I - Nothing Else Matters

The night air shifts before the signs of Autumn are noticeable during the day. While the days can still be hot and full of force like any other time in the summer, the evenings grow cooler and longer. The night knows what is coming...and pays heed to the turning of the seasons.

The Mabon Autumn equinox festival is one of the two times I have during the year to escape to the woods and frolic among friends, fire, and faerie. It is always a mixed gathering of old friends, past lovers, and friends yet to be. I was very much looking forward to this much needed reprieve, and I was excited to bring a brand new bottle of Talisker Storm with me to share. Only, when I went to the store, he was not there.

The woman behind the counter told me they weren't expecting him to return; she called around for me to the other places, but to no avail...  He had gone off, without a word, and with no indication of when I could see him again. All this so soon after I finally admitted my true feelings, proclaiming him to be my perfect Scotch. I was a bit taken aback, and surely disappointed, but life has trained me to take things like this in stride. The journey continues, indeed...

So instead of my beloved, I took with me two of the lads that had been hanging around for a bit - the Irishman and Wasmund's. Not Scotches, but single malts from Ireland and Virginia. Another friend was also bringing a group of boys he wanted me to meet, so I knew there was fun in store. Even without Talisker Storm.

On the first evening, an impromptu gathering assembled around my picnic table. Friends and whisky lovers with cups and mugs of all sizes, and with them the gentlemen of various styles from many parts of the world. We laughed and chatted as the sun set over the lake, bringing a close to the equinox day. In conversation, someone mentioned the band Iron Horse. Classic rock and metal songs done in the style of bluegrass.  And why not? Who says certain combinations shouldn't be? I'm beginning to think that attitude simply denotes a lack of creativity...

So I checked out this version of one of my favorite Metallica songs. It was different, for sure, but it suited me. When you're riding the chaos, it seems the unexpected becomes the norm in life.

These thresholds are for crossing. 

If your dearest beloved has left or disappointed you, then find another and pour a dram. Listen to the song and sip slowly, tasting the unfamiliar flavors with an open mind for a different view. Listen to the familiar song in a new way, and forever trust in who you are... for Nothing Else Matters.

Among the offerings to try from friends were Crown Royal Caramel and a new dark and mysterious Highland Park who I had never heard of - Einar. He is from the warrior series that this distillery has released, to honor the viking history of their island. I was excited to meet him.

I only had a short time with him, with all that was going on, but I found him very interesting. He was sweet and pleasant overall, at times with a note of powdered sugar! But he had an edge as well once he opened up - spicy and powerful. He was no Talisker, for sure, but that one was no where to be found. I'd say Einar is one of the best Highland Parks I've had, and I would love to spend more time with him soon.


As the dark night stretched a farewell caress over her dearest day, the waxing moon rose in the sky. The music was starting down at the pavilion, and the fire was calling us to play...

This festival marked a new chapter for us. The campground these folks used to gather at, some for over fifteen years, had closed; the group and this new campground were strangers to each other, and so in many ways this was like a first date.  We could not have near as big fires as in the old place, but there was a great big beautiful lake, which was never a part of our festivals before. Some good, some sad. Such is the way of life, growth, and change.

The most important piece though, of course, is the community. The history of stories and shared experiences weave a thread through all of the festivals, in all of the places, and gathers with it pieces of each of our lives in the mix. The faces are the same, and some of the tents and rituals, so it wasn't that everything was unfamiliar. The two sides melded, like night and day do at sunset, into a beautiful expression of paradox - both, yet neither.

The duet that played that first night was lovely, singing songs of just the right style and energy. There was a vibe of giddiness as we hesitantly explored our new festival home. Happy, joyful, but just a bit cautious.

Surprisingly, we all seemed to find ourselves comfortably settling in. The night became alive with music and passion, singing and dancing. Things were not the same, but they weren't entirely different either. The new always has seeds of the old, and the old lends and informs the new, and the new learns and renews the old. These are the cycles, like those of nature that we gather to honor.

I think of wooden whisky barrels as they flavor the spirit, and then in turn are seasoned themselves; the flavors meld with each batch, so there bits of every cycle that came before. The wood flavors the whisky, the whisky flavors the wood, and again and again, as the seasons turn.

And this was only the first night...

There Will Never Be Another You

This has been a month of many things. Astrologers say it is a time of introspection and self-care. Of resting and finding the stillness amidst the inherent chaos of life, as we wait for the dust to settle. Like the morning glories that close themselves up at night - or the bears and squirrels that hibernate in the winter -  sometimes we need to withdraw from the world to build and conserve our energy, awaiting whatever adventures are in store just up ahead.

After a period such as this, the other night I finally made my way to the Whiskey Jar to try another pairing I've been anticipating - Laphroaig 10 and Octomore. I remembered being highly impressed by both of these lads, and it had been a while since I'd met them. To my happy delight, there was a jazz group performing at the pub, and I found a seat at the end of the bar right up near the music.

The group was called LG & Friends and apparently has rotating members. I got the impression that there are two constants when they perform: Lesly, the bass player and Nadine, the singer. Joining them that evening were Roger on guitar and Jim on the drums. I couldn't find a video of themselves performing, but here is a classic recording of one of the songs Nadine sang that evening, There Will Never Be Another You. Take a listen and enjoy a dram of one of your irreplaceable favorites:

Brett, a bartender I hadn't met yet, took my order and kindly allowed me to take his pic. Octomore and Laphroaig are such different lads in character and personality that I had no doubt I'd be able to tell them apart from each other, but I still asked Brett not to let me know which glass was which until the end.

The lad on the left had a sweet nose, with a peatiness and an overlay of smoke. In strong contrast, the one on the right's nose was a bit exotic - musky and astringent. I already had a strong suspicion that this was Octomore.

To taste, the Scotch on the left had a smooth character with soft edges. The right was clearly stronger and velvety, with notes of dark chocolate. When I originally met Octomore many months ago, his strength stood out beyond all of his other traits. On this recent evening, when the slightest sip had so much intensity, especially in comparison to the other, it left no doubt at all that it was Octomore on the right side of the pair. 

I continued the conversation with my two partners for the evening, and alternated my focus between them and the wonderful music being made behind me. Nadine's voice was rich and beautiful, and it was perfect for the style of music. I've always considered jazz to be one of the highest displays of skill for musicians, and I've always much preferred to listen to it live vs. on a recording. So much of the experience of the genre is found in the energy that the musicians convey, and in seeing how their personality comes out in improvised solos or embellishments to the songs.

I love the idea of groups like LG & friends - ones that regularly rotate in new folks to play with. I think people who make art and creativity a central part of their lives seem to thrive off new experiences. Collaborations between artists who don't usually play together can lead to some of the most amazing results. Shifting the status quo pushes us to reset our thinking, bringing us to that edge of comfort where chaos meets form - and lightning can strike. I suppose that is part of the reason why I keep seeking out new Scotches to meet. The allure of what wonderful things are yet to be discovered.

When I added a bit of water to the drams, I used more for the Octomore in an attempt to bring them to more of an even playing field in terms of strength. I relaxed a little too much into the first sip of Octomore after that...caught off guard, perhaps drifting on the daydreams of jazzy melodies, suddenly my throat was burning.

I forgot that water just brought out the spiciness of this particular lad. He was firey and needed some time to cool off. Laphroaig continued to be his easy-going self - light, gentle, and grounded. A taste of earthy bitterness became apparent, but I was surprised because he wasn't as great as I remembered from our first meeting.


I struck up a chat with a fellow patron there that night, who also was a fan of Scotch. We shared observations on our favorites, and I told him of my constant returning to Talisker Storm. As I described what my beloved was like to me, it occurred to me that I will probably never feel about another Scotch, the way I do about Talisker. My scotch-drinking friend offered the phrase "the standard you judge all others against." And I agreed.

As the evening continued, and the night was almost over, I started tasting more of the different flavors and complexities that I remembered from these two lads. Perhaps they too were feeling the shifts of the season - needing a little more time to come back to themselves than usual. I did enjoy them both, but neither really felt comparable to Talisker Storm.

Perhaps my journey was completed the moment it began. Perhaps my perfect Scotch was found in the beginning, and has been with me all along. Yet I realize the importance of striving for new experiences, and never ceasing to accept the call for adventures. With this in mind, I realize the journey may be ever-renewing.

To quote the lyrics of the song:

There will be many other nights like this,
And I'll be standing here with someone new,
There will be other songs to sing, another fall, another spring,
But there will never be another you.

'Tis true, but even so - the journey, or at least *a* journey, - continues...