Woods and whiskies – two of my favorite things, all in one day! Yesterday I took the free shuttle to the top of Mount Wellington offered by my hostel. It was a gorgeous drive up to the top of the cloud-shrouded peak, where visibility was about 20 feet.

The air was damp and chilled, and the winter wind cut through my clothing as if I was wearing nothing at all. Considering that there was no view through the dense cloud anyway, and that hypothermia was a very real possibility, I didn’t mind letting the 20-somethings on the shuttle jump out to have their adventure from the top, while I asked the driver to drop me off a little lower down the mountain.

About halfway back down to the base, I left the van to trek down some of the many trails winding around Mt. Wellie, as the locals call it. (Most words in Oz are shortened to an “ie” at the end – brekkie for breakfast, Tassie for Tasmania, Brizzie for Brisbane…) The trail was rugged and rocky, while covered with a thick layer of decaying leaves. The going was a bit rough and slippery, but then the forest offered up a walking stick of dead wood of just the right size for me, which saved me from falling at least a few times.

The mountain is, of course, covered in trees and alive with the usual woodland wildlife. The wind that was so cutting on the top of the peak was much gentler when filtered down through the tall trees. Several times I stood completely still and silent, just to revel in the music of the trees rustling softly in the breeze. I tried to capture that lovely serenity in memory, to sustain my inner peace as I enter the chaotic noise of the city of Sydney the following day.

I made my way to the base of the mountain within an hour, even detouring to trek by the beautiful Silver Falls along the way. Since this is a civilized country, there was a pub with a roaring fire waiting at the base of the mountain, where mulled cider and wine was ready to thaw out chilled trekkers.

After I warmed up and returned to town, I wandered to the only maker of whisky in all of Tasmania – the Lark Distillery. I ordered the tasting sampler, which consisted of three choices: the single malt 43%, the single malt cask strength 58%, and the whisky liqueur.

Starting with the 43% as recommended, I inhaled the scent of the heady brew and my eyes rolled back with pleasure. The first small sip caressed my tongue and became nothing more than vapor in my mouth, the taste lingering long after the liquid evaporated. The second, slightly larger sip actually made it down my throat, and planted a lovely seed of warmth deep in my belly. I continued sniffing and sipping until the “half measure” portion was all gone, and I was eager to try the next elixir.

Next up was the 58% cask strength. I was nearly drunk just from inhaling the fumes of that one, but I wanted the taste experience as well. My eyes watered with the potency of the drink, but the taste was so full and rich that I continued with another sip anyway. After that, I cut it down with a splash of water, making the rest of it much easier to consume.

The third and final sample was the whisky liqueur, formally titled “Slainte’”. The aroma of this one was fruity and sweet and complex, and I sat there just sniffing it for several minutes. It smelled so good that I almost didn’t want to taste it for fear that it couldn't possibly live up to the expectation set by the scent, but when I finally did take that first sip… it was like a kiss of golden sunshine that had passed through honeyed nectar in a summer meadow.

Words can’t even begin to describe the incredible flavor of that whisky liqueur, and the distillery isn't allowed to export out of Australia, so y’all are just going to have to visit Tasmania yourselves to offer a second opinion! :)

Day 112 - Woods and Whiskies

A Beginning

Power

Sanctuary

Comparative Luxury

Debutante

EPIC

Fear, Money, and Veggies

Holding Pattern

Transformation

Stefanie D. Warren