Note: picture is of 2016 edition, at 56.1%. Mine is not dated, and is bottled in bond (50%). I’m in construction. There’s a slow season and a ridiculous season. During the slow season, I often find myself with more time than sense, doing absurd things like trying a new whiskey every day. During the busy season, I’m lucky if I log in once a month. So when I feel an uncontrollable urge to review a whiskey in June, it’s going to be amazing or terrible. There is no middle ground today. Backstory: The B-team sales force at my local liquor store told me this whiskey could be the next big thing, since it was recommended by “Whiskey Jesus or whatever.” Now, I have personally known “Shoe Jesus,” “Carnie Jesus,” and “Toubab Krewe Jesus.” The first one cured my shin splints, and the last one hit on my date. I still have no idea who Whiskey Jesus is, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t buy two bottles of this bourbon on the spot. The nose is enough to know this whiskey is going to suck. There are some whiskeys that smell and taste like they’ve been aged in a lead barrel, run through a Diesel engine, and then filtered through a bunch of pebbles from my driveway. It’s what the word “contamination” tastes like when you lick it in the dictionary. Filtering that out from the nose, there’s raspberries, lemon, sugar, honey. Gingersnaps. The rest of those scents are interesting, but again, this whiskey is going to suck. There is no way to filter that note out of the body. The body is everything I licked as a child when my parents weren’t paying attention. It’s industrial. It’s exactly what I expected. It’s hard to get past, but possibly sugar, caramel, tea leaves. It honestly does taste like someone cleaned off a dirty penny with my whiskey. Finish is caramel and lemon. Very mild. Very low buzz. I did not want to be contra-Whiskey Jesus. That seems like being on the wrong part of whiskey history. But this is bad. And it bums me out because there are parts of this that suggest some talent behind the process. Add this to my ever-growing list: Journeyman Woodinville Lee W. Sinclair There really is something sinister happening with those distilleries. I don’t think those guys lack talent, but I think they’re working with tainted raw materials. I don’t know if it’s barrels, water sources, machinery, or what, but it’s painful to compare these $40-$50 offerings with the bottom shelters of people who know what they’re doing, like Heaven Hill or Wild Turkey. I’d rather drink those neat over this, and you can’t even mix with this stuff without ruining your cocktail. If anyone knows what I’m talking about and can explain to me what that funk is, I’d love to hear it.