By Mr. Black
I love old school rural western towns. From Idaho to South Dakota and from Montana to Arizona, there are hundreds of small western towns that are amazing. Trout streams flow through their center. Mule deer walk down main street, and postcard views can been seen in every direction.
But they do have their downsides.
Shops close promptly at 5 p.m. with half days on Saturdays and not-a-fucking-chance on Sundays. Of the two restaurants in town, one is pretty good, but due to the owner’s fishing addiction is inconsistently open. The other is like a drunk dial—always there and always open, but not very good. But the worst thing of most small western towns is the one bottle shop thinks they have a good bourbon selection because they have both Jim and Jack.
I choose to live where I do in Montana because it strikes the perfect balance between Western and civilized. The mountains are minutes away, good trout fishing can be had inside the city limits, and while mule deer no longer stroll down main street, they aren’t far away. There are more good restaurants than one can experience in a month of Sundays. Believe it or not, shops are open after the sun sets and best of all, there are multiple really well-stocked liqueur stores.
Recently I stopped into my local liqueur store, and I discovered a renovation had occurred. In an arms race, they had expanded and added aisle upon aisle of bourbon and whiskeys. Hundreds of brands to the point of being confusing, and I realized we may have gone too far.
I know, shame on me for bitching—one should be so lucky. But I did feel overwhelmed like a college freshman walking past soriety row knowing you won’t in your lifetime have the time (or frankly the opportunity) to work through all the lovely lasses’ knickers.
Discovering Lazy K Bar
The bourbon selection made my head spin. Finally, a familiar bottle stood out. Brown leather top, square in shape, easily recognizable—Lazy K Bar. Partially owned by a friend of Field Ethos, Cole Hauser (best known as Benny O’Donnell from “Dazed and Confused” and Carter Verone from “2 Fast and 2 Furious”).
I had drunk it with him the prior year at the launch party, but hadn’t seen a bottle since, as it sold out instantly. I grabbed it and happily parted with a Benjamin—it is that good. At this price, it is not for everyday drinking or pouring for Neanderthal ingrates at the house but saved for special occasions and shared with those who appreciate it. At 92 proof, I like it with a little splash of water or with a tad of melting ice. The taste is bold, but smooth even when drank neat.
It’s a blend of 8-, 9-, and 10-year-old Kentucky straight bourbon, and the website says it has “a nose of caramel and toffee with an aged honey character, opening up to sweet toast and malted grain characteristics complimented by herbal and spice notes. The aromatic complexity evolves into dark spices of clove and cinnamon with a hint of apple, with a rich, round mouthfeel and balanced natural sweetness that finishes with a pleasant warming sensation.”
I am not sophisticated enough to appreciate any of this bullshit—to me it simply tastes like good, smooth bourbon.
As a Montanan, I particularly appreciate the history of the Lazy K Bar ranch, which is the bourbon’s namesake. Founded in 1887, Lazy K Bar ranch has hosted prominent guests from across the country for over 100 years. Covering over 12,000 acres, other than the addition of electricity, the ranch has pretty much stayed untouched—which is a rarity on Montana.
The bourbon is as good as the ranch and if you haven’t tried it yet, do so. The only downside is it is only available at retail locations in Montana and Texas, but like about everything in the world, you can readily find it online.
