Copper pot stills. Appalachian grain. Charred white oak.
We don't rush the wood.
We source our corn and rye from three farms inside a forty-mile radius — people whose names we know, whose fields we've walked. When the grain comes in, it smells like the season it was pulled from. That smell doesn't leave the whiskey. It just changes shape.
The mash house runs warm and wet and loud. We cook each grain bill in open vessels — corn first, rye added later when the temperature drops to exactly where the enzymes want it. You can taste the difference between a rushed cook and a patient one. We've done both. We only bottle the patient ones.
Our pot stills are hand-hammered copper, built by a smith in Kentucky who learned the trade from his grandfather. Copper pulls the sulfur out. It rounds the sharp edges. Every run through these stills leaves something behind and takes something new. We cut by taste, not by numbers.
We don't pull a barrel because the calendar says to. We pull it when we taste it and the oak has given everything it has to give — vanilla and char and the faint sweetness of what the wood used to be. Some barrels are ready in three years. Some make us wait six. The whiskey knows.
We bottle in runs of 200 to 400. Labels are hand-applied, still warm from the press. Every bottle carries the barrel number, the mash bill, and the proof — because you deserve to know exactly what you're pouring. When you crack the wax seal, that's the last thing we touched.
Every bottle below is drawn from one barrel, one mash bill, one moment in time. When they're gone, that barrel is history.
80% Corn · 12% Rye · 8% Malted Barley
“Caramel pulled from the fire just before it burns — vanilla, dried peach, and the quiet smoke of a hickory evening.”
60% Corn · 35% Rye · 5% Malted Barley
“Rye bread toasted dark, black pepper that lingers, and underneath it all — a sweetness like brown sugar melting into clay.”
95% Rye · 5% Malted Barley
“A cold creek running through a pine forest — mineral, sharp, and alive — then the barrel opens up and gives you dried cherry and worn leather.”
Allocated releases, single-barrel drops, and the occasional barrel we almost kept for ourselves. You get first access before anything goes public.
