Cycled: 29.33km//1hr58min//14.80km/hr
Friday October 4
Our campsite it situation on the banks of the River Spey between Aberlour and Dufftown. If you like Whiskey, chances are you know these names. Dufftown is the home to Glenfiddich and Balvenie, just two of the nine distilleries in town. In fact, Aberlour and Dufftown aren't really home to much, other than whiskey distilleries, and the people that work at them (generation after generation). We showed up at the Aberlour distillery, a quaint cute affair on the edge of a babbling brook, and next to a forest beginning it transition into fall attire. We were told that at this time of the year, reservations for tours wouldn't be necessary. Typical, as luck would have it, we arrived on the morning that a large group of cigar smoking Russians also decided to visit Aberlour. Only one spot was available for the tour! After some deliberation we decided that one of us would go, while the other would wait. I was nominated to go (Madalene).
There isn't a whole lot to see when it comes to whiskey making. But, there is a lot to smell! As I toured the Aberlour factory, every room presented itself with a new and curious small. Baking bread, damp pig barn, vanilla custard, rank cheese, old wood mulch (think decomposing leaves), orange and citrus. And, if running water had a smell, the smell of running water! Sometimes fast moving and crystal clear, other times slow, yellow and foaming with yeast run off. After an hour or so, we ended up in the Aberlour tasting room, what all the Russians were waiting for. Here we tasted 6 vials of spirit. I say 'spirit' because the first was the clear high alcohol content liquid that goes into the barrels immediately after distilling. It tastes like nothing, and could hardly be called whiskey. The second and third were examples of 100% bourbon and sherry flask stored whiskey (both 8 years). Next came Aberlour's for-sale products, a 10 year old, a 15 year old, and something they call A’bunadh. These whiskey's were light smooth, fruity, delicate even. The 10 year was my favorite. By the end, all I could do was smell my 6 glasses, overwhelmed my the fumes and high percentage alcohol entering my (compared to the Russians) small body. Disappointed that I couldn't find a way to transport my unfinished whiskey to Jenn, I tottered away.
We had lunch in Aberlour next to a swaying suspension bridge and made plans to cycle the Speyside Way (an abandoned train line converted into a footpath) to Glenfiddich in Dufftown. T'was a lovely quiet ride along the river to Glenfiddich, the smells en route mimicking in miniature those of the distillery. We booked ourselves for the 2pm classic tour of Glenfiddich (a much larger, more touristy, high output affair than Aberlour).
Glenfiddich is an obvious pioneer in the commercialization of whiskey and bringing the public to the distillery. They are a well oiled machine, tromping people through their factory, but yet quickly arriving at the tasting room. Here we tasted 12 yr (pear and oak), 15 yr (honey and raisen), and 18 yr (baked apple and cinnamon) Glennfidich offerings. Afterwards, back to the campsite to recover.
 |
| The expensive stuff. |
 |
| Way too much for me to drink alone. |
 |
| While I was in Aberlour, Jenn was busy finding cookies. Walkers shortbread is also based in Aberlour! |
 |
| On to Glenfiddich! Pioneer of the distillery tour. |
 |
| Mash tun, underback. I know not what you do. |
 |
| Washback containers. A lot of water goes into whiskey making. |
 |
| Looking in at the mash fermenting. Bready beer smells abound. |
 |
| We look very happy. This was before the whiskey tasting too! Behind us the small copper stills used to distill whiskey at Glenfiddich. |
 |
| Speyside Way route map. |
 |
Cycling the Speyside Way. Leaves are changing!
 |
