The Ardnamurchan Way
There’s a lot of mystery and lofty language used in Whiskyville, especially when it comes to the folk who produce the spirit, and rightly so, to an extent.
It’s an intimidating entity and there’s a deference to the process and the people borne from centuries of craft. It’s compounded when standing in the very place they create it. Unless, of course, you are standing in Ardnamurchan Distillery. They do things through a different worldview; of transparency, openness and fun that makes you want to submit your CV to join them, before you’ve even finished the tour.
The first, and only, time I visited a whisky distillery for a tour was 2012. Freshly married, having tied the knot on the banks of Loch Awe, we continued post-wed northwards, to the Isle of Skye for our honeymoon. With everything closed for the winter season and the onset of a long-resisted cold appearing, the only activities to do on the island were walking, visiting nearby villages of Carbost or Portree, and having a tour of the Talisker Distillery, situated 700 yards or so from our honeymoon house. I don’t remember much of the tour, because we were there just to pass the time and my opinion of whisky was not what it is today. I do remember using the whisky we bought in the shop for hot toddies, and generally feeling a bit under the weather. Welcome to married life!
The second time I would visit a distillery is the year 2022 - almost ten years later - but this time I am travelling with intent. Soon after I started to enjoy whisky I heard of a somewhat new distillery releasing some pretty interesting stuff and, being the magpie that I am, was immediately drawn to the minimalist bottle design. The more I read about this particular whisky, the more apprehensive I became; it was a blend of 50% unpeated and 50% peated single malt - a hybrid of complex smoky sweetness. Curiosity won and I bought a bottle. The first try of the light amber liquid threw a vision of beachside bonfires into my minds-eye. Hot stuff. My palate was new to this sort of smokey liquid, so it took me a while to really understand what it was that made this whisky so interesting. It wasn’t until I went through the inaugural peat phase that I returned to this spirit and realised the quality of it.
The journey to the distillery that makes this magical spirit, began with an Easter holiday break in the quaint little village of Strontian; home to the discovery of the element Strontium - it’s used in loads of things, but nowadays mostly as the basis for glowing paints found in wristwatches and fireworks. We booked a tour for the Monday of our week away, and set off on a trip along one of the rather laborious, winding single-track roads that slice across the Highlands and Islands.
“Nestled in a valley cut into the hillside at Glenbeg, the distillery rests about 2/3rds of the way along the southern edge of the Ardnamurchan Peninsula. This large spit of land plays host to, amongst other things, the most westerly point in the United Kingdom. For those planning to visit this distillery from afar, plug in around 5 hours from Edinburgh or 4 hours from Glasgow, including stops. It takes a while to get there.”
As we’re whisked along the road (my brother-in-law at the wheel) I think back to the whisky I’ve tried from this remote place - the first bottle of AD/07.21:05 that I tentatively worked my way through, followed by a more speedily dispatched follow-up release, AD/10.21:06. Thereafter I chased a bottle of the single cask AD/11:14 CK.339, which I blew through in a haze of uncertain enjoyment. I really liked it, but felt like it still had something else to give me. Then the revisitation, after my heavy peat phase of ‘22, to the AD/10.21:06, whereby I realised just how damned good this stuff is. Once your palate is widened to the spectrum of flavours present in the heavy stuff, going back to previous drams reveals some super things. It’s safe to say I was looking forward to my visit, but not least being the fair chance of trying, and potentially snaffling one of their imminent new bottlings.
We were chatting about the landscape wheeling past our windows and what it must be to live out here when, in an abrupt reveal, the Ardnamurchan Distillery suddenly appeared before us. We checked the clock: 30 minutes early. We must have been travelling along that road far quicker than Google expected us to, but regardless, we were here. What to do? With the nearby cafe closed and nothing in either direction for many miles, we had no choice but to head inside for a nose. I was accompanied by two family members; a veteran electrical engineer specialising in marine & hazardous environment lighting, and the other a burly Black Isle forrester, both at various phases of whisky enjoyment. From decades of “now and then” dramming, the old man drinks whisky only in company and enjoys it but doesn’t really “get it”, he says. The other, younger than me but older to whisky, finds the inquisitive exploration of whisky pretentious - I can only surmise that a “real man” doesn’t talk about his whisky feelings, or any feelings, for that matter. It was, therefore, only fair that I fill the pretentious geek role.
Despite being ludicrously early and unexpectedly asking for the more in-depth tour, our guide for the day, DJ, was happy to oblige both our earliness and eagerness. He’d just finished a tour, but “such is life”. Off we went, out the shop doors and up the hill to the warehouses tiered above us, cut into that bowl-like hillside. This would be the first time I would step foot into a real whisky warehouse, dusty floor included, and it was a fascinating sensory experience - far colder than the spring air outside, the warehouse smelled like whisky, but via the medium of whisky evaporating through wood. Casks were stacked neatly, three levels high on both sides of a central walkway. Differently coloured cask ends denoted various things, from filling year to cask type, and DJ was happy to explain at depth any and all casks that were around as we walked down the core of the warehouse. The sentiment behind a lot of the more interesting casks he talked about was “we’ve no idea what it’ll turn out like!” I really liked this approach - inquisitive yet submissive to the alchemy of maturation, and who knows, something spectacular might happen.
“I tentatively asked DJ if I could take a photo or two and the request felt like a bit of a silly one; there are no secrets here.”
As we walked around the many warehouses there was constant discussion, not just about how and why the folks at Ardnamurchan are doing what they are doing, but a lot of more niche technical aspects of what they do, too. Highlights included the sourcing of their wood-chips, what type and what methods they use to fell the trees and the certification around all that, and also how they chip the wood, transport and store the wood-chips and prevent potential blow-back from the biomass boiler to the huge concrete ground store. What happens if their augers get jammed up with damp or sticky wood-chips? What’s the strength of the concrete wood-chip storage vessel walls, and the construction therin to remove wood-vapours, and is there a hazardous environment doojit that would prevent any such explosions? We hadn’t made it yet to the distillery part of the distillery tour, but every obscure question posed from the other two (because I’m just a dense pretentious whisky geek) was answered with deftness - DJ knew exactly how this place worked, how to keep it working, and what to do if it ever stopped working. We carried onwards knowing without a doubt that Ardnamurchan are doing pretty much everything they can to become a full-circle, non-impactful, locally sourced, low-energy, community thriving hub of greatness.
The most interesting warehouse for me was the top-floor of Warehouse 1, where the concrete floor makes the ambient temperature of that room a bit higher than the other dunnage style, dusty-floored warehouses. This was important, DJ said, for it allows for an extra level of “cask finishing” to be done - not in the expected way of decanting briefly into a different cask, but in terms of the speeding up of maturation quicker than the other warehouses. As I understood it, the higher the ambient temperature, the quicker the cask influenced the whisky, but even more importantly, the ABV didn’t drop as the angels took their share. The result is a more potent, flavoursome whisky without any real drop in strength. It’s all alchemy and magic as we walk along the warehouse, where we see all the various shapes and sizes of casks being finished here, and although it’s warmer here than the other warehouses, it’s certainly not warm. In summer, when it is very much warm, the evaporation from the casks in the warehouse is so plentiful that a haze develops along the walkway and obscures the other end of the warehouse from view. I’d have loved to have seen it. Walking along, we arrive at rows of bright, clean casks with “Paul Launois” stencilled on the side, sitting like glowing gems amongst the dark, dirty casks. I knew about this release, but I hadn’t tried it because I wasn’t drinking whisky when they were first launched, and now they command quite a bit of money. However, good news for us, the next release of these champagne casked joys is just around the corner!
Downstairs of Warehouse 1 hosts some other special casks, including cask number 1 - a gift from the owner of Glenfarclas. History right there before us; touchable, smellable, visceral history. We stood beside the scales that weigh the casks before and after filling (performed in the room next to us), and DJ pointed out a couple of large plastic jugs on the floor - these were ready to become the first hand-fill bottlings for the shop, if only the paperwork from Her Madges Government would hurry up and arrive. Ready to go, but not in time for our holiday ending. Oh the frustration of the right place, wrong time. Trying not to ponder this brutal miscarriage of justice, we headed on to see the real mechanics of how Ardnamurchan’s spirit is made.
Once inside the theatre of dreams we were met with a deathly silence - there was currently a break in production to allow them to carry out essential maintenance to the mash-tun, the milling machine de-stoner and to prepare for the next batch of spirit production. We saw some really cool things here - a malting floor being prepared for deployment in the coming year - big enough to contribute to their malt batches, but not big enough to bring the entire malting process in-house, a-la-Springbank, yet. Still, the vision and steps to achieve it are very much happening now. Heading past the 4 wood and 3 steel constructed washbacks and into the still room, the two looming, gleaming copper pots stand, doors ajar; elegantly profiled and expertly designed, these special vessels are what form the Ardnamurchan spirit flavour. However, it was the lighting in the still room that became the conversation de jour. Whilst DJ and the old-man discussed in detail the very imminent upgrade to new LED lights and the importance of certification for explosive environments (I mean, it sounded interesting and they seemed to be enjoying it), I spent the time looking at the brightly polished brass and glass spirit safe, and sticking my head inside the stills, looking in awe at those large diameter snaking pipes within the base that brings the spirit to temperature - essentially forming a giant kettle. I love the design of whisky hardware - it’s over-engineered and supremely robust stuff - big bronze levers and twisting handles, huge flanges with giant bolts, elongated viewing portholes and doors with mirror-polished domed caps, lovingly endorsed with enamelled lettering. Beautiful, industrial objects.
The tour concluded with a perch aboard a nicely etched wood stool at the bar, and some really super drams to get our teeth into: a small nip of the AD/10.21:06 to get us going, followed by the single cask AD/11:14 CK.339, the inaugural AD/04:21 Paul Launois Release and to finish, a 2015 Adelphi bottling of 5 year old Ardnamurchan spirit, known as the “Maclean & Bruce”. All of the drams were wonderful and even the CK.339 seemed to hold that missing piece of my puzzle, which resolved itself as a match-striker, sulphur note that cut through the sherry notes beautifully - why this wasn’t present in my bottle is anyone’s guess. Maybe it was location bias or perhaps the marine-like environment here has changed the spirit inside the bottle slightly. Whilst I was sitting umming and arring, the old man had now roped in more of the distillery team to chat about those pesky LED’s, as an impending order was about to be placed. Below us a noisy bustle began and the man we know as “yerdasellswhisky” on Instagram, Graeme, appeared up the stairs followed by some rather continental looking guests. It was the owners of Paul Launois winery who had flown over from France to visit the distillery. Blending, as it turns out, was to begin on the next release of that champagne casked magic we saw maturing in Warehouse 1, the following day. Alas, yet again, we were too early, but for some lucky tour guests later in the week, they were able to sample the fruits of this group-blending session. Fists raised and waving to the whisky gods, our earliness seemed to be the dish of the day.
The time came to part ways and, owing to the absence of the new AD/02.22 Cask Strength bottles on the shelves, I asked DJ if it would be worthwhile coming back along at the end of the week, before we headed back home again, to collect some. Yes, was the answer, and to drop him a message so he could update me of progress. So we bid adieu and headed off - the old-man picking up an AD/10.21:06 for the road. We would open it when we got back to our holiday digs, and watch the fill-level tumble. He’d also brought with him an Adelphi Liddesdale 21 year old Bunnahabhain that he’d bought back in 2014 when he last visited the peninsula. A small bit of cork decay mishap/reversal and that too was dispatched in a blaze of corky deliciousness. I returned on Friday to pick up a bottle of Cask Strength for myself, and one for a fellow Dramfacer and whilst there I bumped into DJ once more, on his “day off”. We discussed his journey down to Fife on Wednesday to collect the batch of Cask Strength bottles for the shop. He’d travelled to Fife, collected those, and journeyed back up again via various shops to drop off stock, before finishing at 8pm on Thursday night - a long day for anyone, but longer for those travelling on the road to Ardnamurchan Distillery.
As I paid for the two bottles and some other wee goodies in the shop, there was a hustle and bustle of people arriving to tour the place, as well as some other guests here to do yet more creative things with the team. It was evidence of just how busy these guys always are, despite their location. I left the shop to head back down to Perthshire and my wife, clearly reading the room, asked if I’d like some more time here before we left. I was indeed feeling a few things. The first is how cool this remote little distillery is - and it is little - just those two stills produce all of the Ardnamurchan spirit for casking. The second is how much stock they have on site now. When the old man visited the distillery in 2014, he went for a tour, costing £5 then, and it took them to the only warehouse on site - Warehouse 1 - to display their entire casking to date. Just 4 casks were sleeping. Now, spread through all of their warehouses, are 13,000 casks. What a difference 8 years makes.
The main thought, as we turned out of the car park to head homewards, was that of having witnessed a group of people who have the collective confidence to forge their own path. Everyone wore an expression of pride and knew exactly what they were doing, why they’re doing it, and how they are achieving it; a deep respect for the craft of whisky production, but on their own terms. It’s evident just by existing around the people at the distillery for an afternoon. Speaking to DJ, who knows every nuance of how the distillery intrinsically works and is also able to field questions that I thought quite obscure, without breaking step; it’s really impressive and very much enviable. The old-man has a very sensitive gauge for bullshit, yet the alarm never sounded. There’s a fundamental lightness to the whole operation; no elitism to be seen or slick tour schedules with pretentious grand-standing on behalf of whisky and all the illustrious history it represents. Instead, an environment of fun permeates through everything you see. Rum casks procured whilst holidaying in the Bahamas. Tequila casks procured on another holiday somewhere else. That’s not to say it’s all holiday’s and cocktails, because the hard graft is also evident. But the “who knows what will happen in these obscure casks” approach is what makes Ardnamurchan fascinating for me; they’re trying things, just to see what happens and they’re enjoying the process. There’s no inclination to stick to what they do best, because they don’t yet know what they do best - it’s only been 8 years of maturing Ardnamurchan whisky.
And what a brilliant whisky it is; the new Cask Strength release utilises some of the oldest whisky in their stash, and the oldest is only 8 years old. The potential of what the sleeping casks in their warehouses hold is so tantalising, that I feel like wishing the time away just to see what they get out of them. Instead I hold the newly released bottle like a precious gem, smell and taste the higher ABV spirit and scan the QR code on the label to read about my exact bottle - number 18 of 12,886 worldwide. Picking apart the nuances of what went into making it, I can read the temperature at each of the 3 mash cycles, if I want. I can see who controlled that, and indeed every other process along the way. It’s an incredible level of transparency that I can’t help but find totally engaging - this is who we are, this is what we do and we have nothing to hide.
Having spent some hours now, seeing the processes behind creating this fantastic liquid and chatting to the people who make it, I’ve found a different connection to this place than I held before. I’m a wee bit sad that I missed out (again) on the AD/Venture club, the special group of folk who supported the distillery in the early stages and got access to some cool things. But I can support them in other ways, not by spreading the word - for they’re already making waves far higher than I can ever contribute to - but through buying their whisky, opening and enjoying it, knowing it was made by folk who are nothing short of hugely impressive, formidable even. I reckon they’ll soon be known as the Powerhouse Ardnamurchan Distillery, and I’ll look back on my visit when they “only” had 13,000 casks and 13 staff, and remember what it took to make it big: honesty, integrity and, above all, the humble confidence to do it your own way.
Like this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DC
A nice intro video to DJ from 2020, before he was VC manager. We think it captures the enthusiasm for the place and the love of the job nicely.
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