Roll Out the Barrel

For weeks, I’ve been walking the hills in Islay, exploring ancient ruins, enjoying incredible views of the ocean and other islands (including the big island of Ireland) and taking in the freshest air imaginable.  The arduous strolls have been great for my lower body conditioning.  My challenge during this time has been to balance that out with some good upper body work, aside from push-ups and seated dips.  Well, I found the answer in, what else? Whisky.  And no, it’s not through kicking back dozens of drams every night.

For the past two days, I’ve been working in Bruichladdich’s warehouse.  There, I have

helped fills casks and, more importantly, moved them to their temporary resting places where they will sit for several years or longer.  In that little cask world, this feisty new spirit goes off to school and gains character under the headmaster tutelage of the bourbon, sherry or other wine that the cask held previously.  It’s a wonderful self-contained world where spirit, wood, air and that bourbon/wine influence transmogrify into whisky.

I haven’t spent much time in a warehouse in recent years, but when I was in college and just after, I had plenty of factory and assembly line jobs.  I always really liked the warehouse guys, no matter which company I was at.  They were fun, loose, had great senses of humor and really enjoyed being in the warehouse.  The guys at Bruichladdich carry on that tradition.

Their good-natured attitude, however, does not detract from the seriousness they devote to the job.  They’re the ones responsible for casking and vatting the whiskies, and most importantly, keeping an eye on the casks, day after day, year after year.  Without their care, little leaks could lead to ruin; mislabeled casks could disappear among thousands of others, much to the dismay of private holders; and mishandled casks could smash into people or objects, causing serious injury or loss of important inventory.