 Mal grinned and nodded to an area of flat rock. “When I was a kid, I brought stadium chairs and cushions in here. I had a thermal chest over there.” He pointed to one spot tucked away near the cave wall. “And lanterns all over. I thought I had my own palace.”
“Like a tree fort without the tree—and underground,” Colt said. “Exactly. I’m sure you’ve heard around the distillery that great whiskey starts with the best spring water?” Mal asked. He hopped lightly from one pile of rocks to another, then turned to wait for Colt. He waved to a stream of water and sat on the rocks at the edge. “Yes.” Colt settled beside Mal and shined the flashlight around the interior of the cave. “My great-great-granddaddy owned a little piece of land he’d staked out and settled. It was about twice the size of what’s inside this fence. He had a small shack on the top of this hill, but it was what was under here that he was interested in. The best whiskey and moonshine comes from the purest water.” Mal pointed deeper into the cave, and Colt swung his flashlight in that direction. “A few hundred yards down is a spring. All this water comes from it. He didn’t know why, but it’s got a much cleaner taste.” He leaned down, scooped up a handful of the water, and sipped it. Colt mimicked Mal’s actions. “Wow. I always thought it was a gimmick, but this water really does taste fresher, better. It’s cold.” “That’s because the spring’s source is nearly a thousand feet down, where it’s cool. This whole area is littered with limestone, and when the water travels over it, the limestone leaches the impurities and iron from the water. He wasn’t the only one with the idea. Other distillers knew the same secret. My great-great-granddaddy and Jack Daniel, the man, grew up together. They both learned the craft together, and when Daniel bought land with his spring, my great-great-granddaddy set out to find his own.” Mal shrugged. “Or so the legend goes.” “So he landed here, and the rest is history?” Colt asked. “Yep.” Mal nodded and laughed. “The one thing distillers like more than good ’shine or whiskey is a good tall tale. I’m sure it’s basically the truth, embellished.” “This is an amazing place. Thank you for showing it to me,” Colt said. “You’re welcome. It’s one of my favorite places, and it’s important to distilling whiskey and ’shine.” Colt held up one finger and grinned. “A skill you did promise to teach me, and you are the best.” “Oh geez.” Mal rolled his eyes and shook his head, but it was clear he liked Colt’s admiration. “I did indeed. We’ll need some downtime for that, and you’re getting quite popular. Have you seen the list of requests Audrey has?” “No. She offered to show me, but honestly, I’d rather not know so I can concentrate on the ‘assignments’ she gives me. I do have a confession, however.” Colt ran one hand through his bangs and ducked his head a bit. “I hope you’re not angry.” “Maybe you should confess, then let me decide?” Colt made a face, then admitted, “I like the moonshine better than the whiskey. Especially all the wild berry flavors.” Comments are closed.
|
 Welcome to My World
|
RSS Feed
