Berea, Kentucky: Beyond the Bourbon Trail

I want to write a freelance travel article (target audience: Portland) that would be called "Berea, Kentucky: Beyond the Bourbon Trail." Berea is that sort of place that makes you wonder why you didn't know about if before.

First, Berea College: founded in 1855 as an integrated and co-educational institution (a distinction which took the college to the Supreme Court in the early twentieth century, to defend its right not to be segregated), Berea only admits students of very limited means - mostly from the local (Appalachian) region - and then doesn't charge them tuition.

Instead, the students earn their way through campus jobs, many by learning skilled crafts - pottery, wood working, weaving, blacksmithing, even broom making - the products of which are then sold to raise money for the college. (I really love this stuff: www.bereacollegecrafts.com)

And because Berea's mission is to educate those without means, and because it fulfills that mission so well, there are no legacy students here. Coming from Harvard, I find that highly intriguing.

Plus the college is dedicated to the next wave of social righteousness, and is experimenting with ecologically sustainable living communities for its students: like this "aquaponics" greenhouse the students built, mixing hydroponics (to grow vegetables for the students) with farming catfish (which are sold locally to raise money), all based on collected rain water.

I mean, how many colleges are there where entire brick classroom buildings were built by the students themselves?

Second, Berea has a lovely local hotel (run by the students, of course), cute little cafes and coffee shops, a high number of local Appalachian artisans, and more bookstores per capita than I've seen this side of Portland. All the makings for a lovely afternoon of porch sitting.

Third, Berea is conveniently located where the bluegrass meets the Appalachian foothills: within driving distance of the over-commercialized bourbon trail, but also driving distance to beautiful parks, and surrounded by real country side of rolling farmland and horses.

So that's my new love affair with Berea. Many thanks to our super-cool friends for choosing to get married there, and introducing Berea to the rest of us.

"I ate where it all began"

Sometimes you just need a good Quest. By day 3 in Kentucky, we had already achieved the two most serious pursuits I had wanted out of the state: bourbon tastings and fresh air. Plus we only had a few hours to spare before the Big Event. It was time for some old-fashioned Americana -- something slightly irreverent that would make a good, one-line story, something along the lines of, "We ate at the original Kentucky Fried Chicken."

This is cooler than you might be thinking right about now. First, a word about Kentucky Colonels. Colonel Sanders was a real colonel, just not of the military kind. As Portland has its Rosarians, Kentucky has its colonels: an honorary title bestowed by the state's governor for various forms of achievement, like being president of the United States, or the inventor of fast-food fried chicken (it had something to do with pressure cookers).

Fresh Air

We currently enjoy envisioning ourselves gallivanting up and down Andean mountains during our Inca Trail hike with no shortness of breath (or blisters, muscle spasms, or heart attacks).

But we have in truth no realisitic basis for that vision. So Rehana (preparing for her own African trekking adventure) suggested we spend a day in Kentucky undertaking a "real" hike, meaning one of at least several miles over mildly rocky terrain.

The drive to Red River Gorge was more than adequately picturesque - rolling hills of farms and stands of trees, old wood-slat barns with peeling paint and grazing horses, country cemeteries at the end of country roads (meaning two parallel wheel ruts). And the park itself, strewn over mountain foothills, was all bird songs, promising trail heads, and thick leafy foliage filtering the sunlight.

But when we got to the ranger station deep within the forest, the kindly (male) rangers looked us up and down as we queried what the best trails were, and suggested we take the driving tour instead. I'd like to think this is the suggestion they give all visitors with just a few hours in the park, but I fear it might have more to do with my giant purse and sunglasses and Jeff's query about where to get a good lunch.

We tried a couple of the driving-tour vistas and had lunch at the only realistic option "around those parts": a full-service gas station that served subs, sandwiches, fried chicken, pizza, and - most importantly - corn dogs. Finally ready to start a "real" hike, we promptly picked the wrong trail head and ran out of path after about 10 minutes.

Pretending to scramble over limestone outcroppings.

So after 30 minutes of scrambling down the limestone outcroppings and knobbly roots of the right trail (total distance: approx. 0.3 miles), we took some pictures and headed back to Berea.

It was a windy day, however, so at least we got some fresh air.

The Good Life, Louisville edition

A brief afternoon in Louisville, walking around "Old Louisville": a neighborhood full of Victorian mansions and tree-lined streets. Coming from the D.C. real estate market, imagine our surprise that $350,000 in Louisville can buy you a 6-room estate, with turrets and chandeliers and turn-of-the-century stained glass windows.

Amusement Parks for Adults

When we heard our friends were getting married over Labor Day in Kentucky, I was all over it: This was my chance to be all hip and visit the down-home distilleries for my favorite fancy bourbons (the ones with the cool labels and names that don't start with a "J").

But as often happens, I am not nearly as cool as I think - and my favorite bourbons are not in fact made in little family-owned distilleries down by the local creek.

The Birth of Big Bourbon

Bourbon touring is a well-developed industry in north-central Kentucky, to match a fairly recent uptick in bourbon interest across a wide demographic. When Woodford Reserve started offering public tours 12 years ago, only half a dozen people would show up; now the distillery moves a couple thousand visitors or more through its factories on a typical weekend. And in the summer of 2009, when demand outpaced the expectations of the distilleries nine years before, there was an "official" shortage of Knob Creek.

That uptick of interest is itself the product of what I now realize was ingenious marketing: During the late 1980s and early 1990s, many of the bourbon distillers started making what they call "small batch" bourbons that could be sold at a premium because of their limited supply and trendy labels (and superior quality - I am not a total cynic).

Thus Jim Beam also makes, in the same factory as Jim Beam bourbon, the following "small batch" bourbons:

• Booker's (birthdate 1988)
• Baker's (birthdate 1992)
• Basil Hayden's (birthdate 1992)
• Knob Creek (birthdate 1992)

Even genteel Woodford Reserve is not immune: not only is it owned by the same company that produces Jack Daniels, but it has also been around (in its current form) for fewer than 15 years (birth date 1996).

We made it to both Jim Beam and Woodford Reserve on our first day in Kentucky. (This was, in fact, no mean feat and involved about 6 hours of driving.) If you can get over the herd-like shepherding and the general sense that you have entered an adult amusement park (and that you are not, in fact, unique and cool), this is not a bad way to spend a day. And I learned a few things, too.

Like how distilling actually works. This is useful common knowledge and, if I had retained any of my high school chemistry, I'm sure would not have seemed novel at all. Perhaps I just liked the big shiny copper stills at Woodford Reserve.

Also interesting: fermenting mash. Woodford Reserve has these giant, two-story high, wood-slat barrels that each held 7500 gallons of thick, bubbling, orange-yellow mash that was churning counterclockwise under the force of its own fermentation.

"Boiling" mash

What I learned touring Woodford Reserve:

• Bourbon is a sour-mash whiskey that maintains its (rather narrow) distinction from other whiskeys through stiff manufacturing regulations and an Act of Congress that defines it as a distinctly American product.
• The grain mash used for bourbon must be at least 51% corn and must also contain some malted barley and either rye or wheat (for flavoring - most bourbons are made with rye). The only other ingredients allowed are yeast and water.
• After the mash is fermented and distilled, it is aged in new oak charred barrels for more than two years (often more than four), which is what turns the clear grain alcohol into amber colored goodness. While the bourbon is aging, some (much) of the liquid is evaporated into the air of the warehouse, creating a heady bourbon smell that can about knock you over on a hot day.

What I learned touring Jim Beam:

• This alcoholic atmosphere (from the aging bourbon) fosters the growth of Baudoinia compniacensis - a black fungus that stains the bourbon warehouses, and any trees or structures near them. I'm sure Baudoinia compniacensis is a requisite part of the Jim Beam "tour" because it explains why their giant sky-blue warehouses look prematurely decrepit.

Premature decrepitude of the giant Jim Beam warehouses.

Beam means business: Spread over 44 acres, the Jim Beam compound includes a church, a graveyard, and a U.S. post office. The real work goes on in a factory compound down by the creek and the railroad, with chimney stacks, loud clanking noises, and the coming and going of giant trucks that reminded me of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory.

Chocolate factory for adults.

Tourists to Jim Beam are funneled up a hill to a new "visitors" center, which is a large warehouse-like space filled with branded clothing and momentos. (An even larger visitors center is in the works - though I am at a loss to imagine what else they could possibly sell.)

Beam's visitor center, where we bought stuff.
(Prematurely decrepit warehouse in background.)

There is no mistaking the purpose of the Beam tour: to drink, and then to buy things. Whereas Woodford takes you through actual factory floors and its grey limestone warehouses, the Beam "tour" is a seven-minute promotional video, after which a college kid shepherds you back into the "visitors center" (merchandise warehouse) for a couple free samples at the tasting bar.

Free samples of Knob Creek.

But I'm not one to complain about free Knob Creek samples (and free bourbon balls). It is, after all, an adult amusement park.