The Colorado rocky mountain high,
I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky,
You can talk to God and listen to the casual reply,
Rocky mountain high.
*[Regarding reviews: unless I say otherwise in the write-up, I only review stuff that I like** or that leaves a deep impression on me. I'll pen my notes on origin, craftsmanship, and tasting, and I'll even tell you how much I seem to like it and compare it to what I already know. My "reviews" are more like a journal in that respect. Nevertheless, I'm still happy to tell you what I think about the usual stuff.]
**[Which means you should totally seek out the drinks you read about in this section; again, unless I am warning you otherwise.]
Of course, it's not all Scotch you're getting on the nose. That first fill bourbon cask leaves its mark with delicious buttery sourdough and rye spices. Don't confuse the rye spice for an oak spice, it's definitely a high-rye bourbon imprint we're dealing with here. The oak leaves its mark with a cool mountain lake of vanilla. Underneath the bakery we have hints of highland flowery shrubs and lichens, with a warm field of granite evaporating off an early summer rain.
The sweetness jumps out at you in the form of pure, tangy honeysuckle honey, not that sugary processed honey you buy in the little plastic bears. There may even be a honeycomb waxiness here. The rye spices come marching in, and I'm starting to wonder if I sipped a bourbon for a moment. Then the fruity malt shows up and I'm back in the highlands. This is just a delicious little dream of a dram, but I'm not done yet. I have an experiment in mind.