Or “the one with the Rattlesnake” | 59.6% ABV

Score: 8/10

**Something special.**
***TL;DR***
*Excellent & unique from a distillery rarely seen from indies*

Rare Occurrences

Springtime in Southern California is special. Certainly my favourite season.

Although it’s yet not technically “spring” by calendar reckoning, this year’s early rainfall and unpredictable weather patterns mean blooming buds, fuller trees, and nature’s renewed growth is on display sooner. In recent years, spring has been less a season from March to June and more a compressed snapshot of color between a dry, mild winter and a dry, hot Summer.

Last year there was hardly a spring to be seen as an arid Fall and Winter stunted most growth, left a parched landscape, and torrid, hurricane-force Santa Ana winds created a tinderbox that heartbreakingly led to massive wildfires and destruction just thirty miles north of Casa Dunlop. Sickly smoke covered the surrounding areas for days.

And just a few years previous, a drive or a walk in the areas outside our massive urban “sprawl” revealed drab, dusty, beige countryside. A tableau of decaying shrubbery, dehydrated earth, and browned grass desperately clinging to life, yearning for the soak of a life-giving rain.

To say nothing of those who’ve been painfully uprooted by the wild swings in weather patterns and a warming climate everywhere, to people who regularly enjoy the outdoors, there’s more caution and less springtime wonders to explore. Local hikes come with more warnings as lethal, unseasonal heat waves become the new normal. The slogan of a nearby national park given out as stickers to visitors is stark:

“Don’t Die Today. Hike Safely.”

I don’t think any of us intend to die when we hit a trail, but as a hiker myself, I’ve taken those words to heart.

Thankfully, some strong rains last year (unfortunately in the form of flash floods) and a late season storm brought fresh vigor to the landscapes of the Golden State. Green hillsides, snow-capped mountains, full rivers, and to the delight of this author: spring wildflowers.

As part of my mental-health-healing re-dedication to the great outdoors the last few years, I’ve appreciated all forms of scenery and trails. From painted deserts and cacti to alpine meadows, dense old-growth forests, and every adventure in between. But none capture wonder quite like a Southern California spring in full bloom.

Every so often images bounce around social media of the awe-inspiring vibrancy of remote hills splashed in yellow, purple, orange, and green. The buds of colorful wildflowers burst into view, revealing their full beauty like a butterfly erupting from its chrysalis, following an adequately wet winter and the longer daylight and steady sunshine of early spring.

To reach a peak wildflower bloom – or a “Super Bloom” as the media calls it, a “goldilocks” array of parameters must be met:

Steady rainfall over the winter months. A solid, soaking rain every few weeks to keep the soil moist
Some gusty, occasional winds to help scatter the seeds (but not too much to erode the soil).
Warm temperatures and steady sunlight. Too cold causes the buds to retreat. Too hot and the buds wilt. Long cloud cover also stunts growth. A sudden heat wave can undo months of fair conditions.

Obviously meeting-all-of-the-above is extremely rare. And in the era of a warming and unpredictable climate, rarer still. Getting a “good-to-great” bloom happens only every 3-5 years. A “peak” bloom, once a decade.

Late fall rain and an overall mild winter gave hope to the flower hunters among us that, to quote Dramface, “something special” could be around the corner. As the February and March forecast stayed steady, the weekly wildflower reports, devoured by your author as much as the daily news, were cautiously optimistic.

With an understanding of the fleetingness of nature, and having wrapped a work project the previous day, your author laced up his walking shoes, charged his camera, and ventured forth. The goal was a place I’d never been -- two hours way -- a stunning lake with a short hiking trail peppered with wildflowers-in-bloom. Wanting to beat the crowds I snuck out on a Thursday morning.

It was a very pleasant day, perfect for a hike and the flowers were very much in bloom. Photos were snapped, both physically and mentally, of the lovely display. Orange California Poppys, Baby Blue Eyes, Yellow Goldfields, Fiddlenecks, Blue Dicks, a welcome opening act for spring.

With the trail being less than two miles, I wasn’t expecting any challenges. It was a popular destination and although I beat the weekend crowds, I certainly wasn’t alone and encountered other flower-lovers frequently on the loop. Between taking in the colors of my first hike in a new location, snapping photos, and finding myself deep in thought, I nearly missed encountering another natural rarity: a Red Diamond Rattlesnake in the middle of the trail.

Now I’ve trampled many a footpath in the desert of the Southwest. Rattlesnake warning signs are ubiquitous, as are the small holes at the base of bushes, and in the sides of washes and hills, or under rocks where they could potentially be lurking. In fact, just the week before while on a walk in a nearby wetland I’ve traversed a dozen times, I saw a small one coiled under rocks, likely more afraid of me than I of it - they’re known to avoid wide-open spaces and generally steer clear of humans - but I kept my distance nonetheless.

To see a full-grown adult rattlesnake on a popular trail, well that’s thankfully much more uncommon.

And this one was huge. And it was pissed.

As I said, I was more unwary than usual – I had clearly forgotten the mantra “Don’t Die Today…” and was off guard. After all, I was only a few hundred yards from the finish, reviewing photos on my camera, and oblivious to what could be under my feet so close to the trailhead as I shuffled onward.

Then I heard it. A sound all too familiar from movies. The blood-chilling audible percussion of this snake’s namesake.

My instinctual flight response tore awake like a jolt that surged through my body. To hear a snake before you see it is the stuff of horror. I loudly yelped and jumped forward, looking down. Not four feet away. Coiled, defensive, and lethal, flickering its black tongue, was that most recognizable of Southwestern mascots. The North American Danger Noodle, aka “caution ramen,” aka “murder spagherter,” or simply: “nope rope.” And both the closest I’d ever been and the largest I’d ever seen.

Had it wanted to, it could’ve struck at me and hit home from that distance. Luckily, the rattles are meant to be warnings and, as visibly angry as this serpent was, its auditory admonishment was meant to deter, not attack.

After slowly and safely moving a few paces further away, well out of the “danger zone,” I decided to get a better look at this rare specimen in the wild. I snapped a couple photos (naturally), gave it a respectful nod, and was again on my way. Turning back, I saw that it was now squarely in the middle of the path, daring another encounter. Catching a pair of hikers coming the opposite way, I issued warnings both to them and the trail attendants at the end.

Hopefully they would be less careless than I, more observant, and ever conscious of that wonderful of park slogans:

“Don’t Die Today…”

Review

Glendronach 14yo, Single Cask Nation, matured in ex-bourbon and finished for 3 years in a first-fill STR Pedro Ximenez Sherry Barrique, 215 Bottles, 59.6% ABV
US$219 paid (£170) now sold out

Another rarity, this time in the whisky world, is a single cask, independently bottled Glendronach. Indeed, Joshua Hatton, co-owner of Single Cask Nation, one of the leading independent bottlers in the U.S, referred to this bottle as “Hen’s Teeth” on his social media as he was promoting it. He also said this bottle was “a ten.” Frankly, if I owned a whisky company I would call them all tens.

He’s right in the sense these bottles are scarce. I can’t think of the last time I encountered an IB Glendronach in my perusing of retail sites or stores. So, like a perfect spring wildflower bloom or a wild encounter with a rattlesnake, today’s bottle falls well within the category of rare.

I’ve come across plenty of Glendronach bottles on my whisky journey. The core range is easy to obtain here, and although prices have crept up in the last year, their 12 and 15 year olds are pretty accessible. Last I saw a bottle of the 12 is around $50. I think I got the 15 a couple years ago for around $65. Their whisky is firmly in the “above average” to “good” category.

Some folks longer into their whisky journey than I claim that the bottles 10 years ago were far superior when the distillery had access to more aged stock and spirits superstar Billy Walker was running the show. Since I haven’t sampled those bottles, I won’t make any assumptions.

As an American company, we see a high volume of Single Cask Nation releases here in the U.S. The family-owned store where I purchased this bottle has a large display with at least a dozen bottles from Single Cask Nation at any given time and new arrivals are flowing in regularly.

I was surprised looking through the Dramface archives that very few Single Cask Nation expressions get a mention. As one of the more popular independent bottlers, especially in the U.S, perhaps it’s worth a deeper dive in the future, especially as there is adequate stock in the Dunlop closet for such an exploration.

Aside from Signatory Vintage I have more bottles from SCN than any other independent bottler. It allowed me to explore many distilleries beyond their core range - especially the single malts from corporate workhorses that usually end up in blends, for an affordable rate and without having to rely on overseas shipping.

This was also my first encounter with an “STR PX Barrique” finished whisky so needless to say, I was very intrigued to dive in and sample the bottle’s rare contents.

Nose

There’s a prevailing sense of “richness” that comes through right away, as well as a slight nose tingle from the high ABV. The dram needs a little time to settle into the glass but opens up wonderfully once it does. Dark chocolate, new leather, and red apples. Marshmallows in cocoa. Honeyed maltiness and rich toffee. I get definite minty notes. Wintergreen or spearmint like chewing gum or flavored dental floss. Mint chocolate ice cream. Butterscotch. French toast. Also, woodsy and earthy like pine needles and tree bark. Roasted coffee beans. Brown sugar. Some oakiness and wood spice. Three musketeers candy bar. Dark chocolate chips.

Water brings brownies with nuts, iced coffee, dark cherries, plums, and Toblerone. Slight dustiness like an old dresser and worn couch leather. A spicy, peppery prickle in the back of the throat. Beauty bark. A delightful nose on this rare whisky. Very engaging.

Palate

More richness, very mouth coating and creamy. Thick. Hot, especially at first. Date shake. Nutella. Berry smoothie. Oreo Blizzard. Thin Mints Girl Scout cookies. Water brings more dark chocolate cake, hints of sea-salt, gingerbread, and caramel dessert. A long, buttery finish delivers molasses jam cookies, peppery spice, more salted caramel dark chocolate, and cookie dough ice cream.

The Dregs

The uncommon nature of the expression, as well as the cask profile, piqued the Dunlop curiosity. I’ve had very few Single Cask Nation bottles that disappointed me. They’re a great bottler. SCN is also owned by the same company (and have access to the same cask inventory) as the Scotch Malt Whisky Society: Artisanal Spirits. Although they have a far different business model than SMWS, who keep their outturns tight and limited to members, SCN is regularly releasing bottles online as well as with retailers and are arguably the most popular independent bottler in America. According to their website, since starting in 2011, they’ve bottled over four hundred casks, an impressive number over a fifteen-year span.

Their branding has changed over the last couple years (and I’m not a fan of their cartoonish podcast label) but one thing has stayed consistent and that’s the transparency they have on each bottle. The label includes finishing cask (and length), distilled and bottling year, and a “flavorometer(?)” on the side of the label with their tasting notes.

Glendronach is known to use exclusively sherry casks for most of their core range, although they have their own special releases that use different cask finishes, the fact this was finished in an STR cask seasoned with PX sherry adds even more dimension and uniqueness. That extra pepperiness and some of the forest-ey pine and minty notes I detect may come from that STR finish, which also is less common in Scotch whisky.

To me, this bottle lived up to its hype. Mr. Hatton’s perfect score notwithstanding, this is a special bottle of whisky. Creating the expectation that it's perfect may set the sipper up for a letdown (or maybe this is a perfect bottle for someone, it’s all just opinions over here anyway). Personally, I’m never let down by a special bottle of unique, rare, single cask whisky I can obtain for $130. I like that SCN doesn’t venture their prices into the absurd.

Regardless, I look forward to sharing this bottle and unleashing the rarity of its contents upon my whisky friends, while also spinning the story of my encounter with the snake, of course, furthering hyperbole and embellishment with each new telling.

Score: 8/10

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