San Diego Whiskey Society Kentucky Excursion | May 12–16, 2025

In May of this year, members of the San Diego Whiskey Society took a journey to the motherland—Kentucky. For five days, we hunted, drank drams, and indulged in everything Kentucky had to offer. First stop of the trip was with Bill Binder of Binder’s Stash. Hidden in the back room of Justin’s House of Bourbon, we cascaded through 12 samples of fine Kentucky Bourbon from a IYKYK distillery. Bill is well known for his curated collection of experimental barrels—and most notably, his beard. Of the 12 samples we graciously tasted, it was unanimous among the group. We selected an 8-year OG mashbill (72/13/15) aged in a Canton barrel. An amazing dram with a subtle nose and rich black tea flavor. The second barrel was a 9-year high-corn mashbill (79/7/14), aged in a wave/grooved stave barrel designed to maximize liquid contact. This one was a stunner with that rich brownie nose and incredible mouthfeel.

As with any great tasting, it had to end. We gave thanks to Bill and wandered out of the room to the bar at Justin’s House of Bourbon to share a dram.

As we licked our wounds and balanced our palates, we were off—eagerly making moves down the street for the coveted “one more pour” (but definitely not the final one). We made our way to Old Carter—and wouldn’t you know it, Mark Carter was there. Did I say one more pour? I lied. We sat down with Mark and shared pours. We enjoyed Batch 14 and 15 of Mark’s recently released American Whiskey. What felt like 15 minutes became two hours of laughing and enamoring ourselves with what seemed like a bag of endless drams for the group. We indulged, to say the least.

As we licked our wounds and pretended to get some shut-eye, we hid behind our sunglasses for the next embrace. We, albeit were briefly lost in transit, made our way to the Wild Turkey Distillery where we aimed for the heavens. As we entered Warehouse A, we were presented with six uniform barrels ready for us to put to the test. Of the six, four were from Camp Nelson and two from Tyrone. We were very excited, to say the least. Three of the barrels—while great—were missing that three-tier perfection: nose, palate, mouthfeel. The other three really put us through our paces—they were phenomenal. It came down to a Camp Nelson A & F (F & A Cotton) and a Tyrone. There was much heated debate and rabble-rousing at this point, but as we drew straws, the Camp Nelson F & A barrels reigned supreme. We felt victorious and were enamored with the experience—and the opportunity to meet Jimmy Russell.

At this point, we were all two-thirds whiskey and damn proud of it. To celebrate our victories, we naturally had to make our way to Willett—for at least a dram, maybe a scratch from a barn cat, but most definitely an egg salad sandwich. As we made our way to the restaurant, we sat at the bar. We ordered our sandwiches and some beef tartare—which was out of this world. Then we proceeded to indulge in a hefty flight of some amazing Willett Bourbon: a 5-year, 114.2 proof (No. 3222), a 13-year, 121 proof (No. 1327), and a 14-year, 109.2 proof (No. 2052). Absolutely exceptional—but it wasn’t enough. We needed more. And why not? There we were, crushing an egg salad sandwich, and wouldn’t you know it—the clouds part, and a 27-year bourbon says, “Drink me.” We proceeded to indulge in a 27-year, 104.8 proof (No. 3601) flavor bomb. We licked our plates clean and assuredly checked the Glencairns for no remnants of anything left behind.

Like good whiskey addicts, connoisseurs, nerds, and fanboys, we went next door. We headed over to Preservation Distilling to continue our mission of dram hunting. We walked into a small but beautiful layout where we were greeted by some great hosts. They ushered us into the backroom where the magic happens. Drams descended upon us, and it was game time. All business, no fun. I digress. We tasted through some Cock of the Walk and didn’t find our barrel—but the blend was exceptional. We moved on to Rare Perfection. And this flight was truly rare. Three samples sat in front of us, and I felt reminiscent of A Christmas Story, trying to decode these very cryptic pours. When we got to sample number two, we all locked eyes and knew what had to be done. We needed to buy it all. So we did. We bought Barrel No. 26—a 9-year Kentucky Bourbon around 129.8 proof, with 82 bottles. Yeehaw. Not only did they indulge us in getting a barrel, they broke out some big dogs and allowed us to taste through some 18-year-old barrels. Hang onto your butts—because these were stellar.

Until Next time. Remember, one more pour doesnt mean final pour. Make it make sense. Cheers!