Scottish rain is wonderful because it makes my favorite thing.
Water.
I love swimming in it, showering in it, looking at it, being on it, and, of course, drinking it.
I remember great water all over the world, as well as terrible water.
I got stuck overnight in a motel on my way to Nashville that was full of oilfield workers.
The water tasted like sulfur. I’m sure it was a patented mix of poisons and fracking fluids that were my patriotic duty to drink, but it was terrible. I thought there would be some relief in the morning at the all-you-can-choke-down breakfast bar, but natch. The coffee and the orange juice were well tainted.
And then on the other end, there’s the Appalachian Trail.
I endured a month of it and drank fresh water from the earth every day. I had a fancy-ass filter, but who knows if it actually did anything. I suspect it filtered out animal bones, but I never got sick, and drinking water that burbled out from rock faces in the middle of a wilderness was delightful.
I had my world on my back and a little booklet of the water stops along the trail. They were streams or, and my favorites, just a pipe coming out of the rock right on the trail. Someone figured out there was water in the mountain, looking to escape, and drilled a hole in it and shoved a pipe in.
Water fountain.
Bubbler, if you’re from Wisconsin.
But it was delicious.
When you’re walking alone through the woods, you are always thinking about water. I refilled my water sacks with fresh water at every stop. I found myself sipping water every couple minutes from the little water hose. My backpack had an internal pocket inside the pack for a 40 oz water bottle, and I sipped constantly.
At one point, I was getting low and realized it was a mile or so to the next water point.
I felt a tinge of panic.
I never panic.
I’m just wired that way.
But I felt it. What if I ran out?
After a month, I was done with the trail. As in, get me out of the damned woods, I want a couch and a TV and a beer. I bought a pair of new pants and a shirt at Walmart, rented a car, and drove to my sister Marian’s place in Nashville. I had one last bit of trail water in my Camelback and poured it into a beautiful, clear glass, and was about to enjoy that last bit of watery heaven, when I turned around, and her cat was drinking it.
That was a long time ago, and I still haven’t forgiven that cat.
I obviously take my water seriously.
So now I’m in Scotland.
There are rumors that there are over 100 words in Scotland for rain.
Water is in everyone’s DNA here.
There are burbling streams everywhere. Everything is green AF. It rains all the time. I’m here now in the height of summer, and it seems to rain at least every day.
And it’s summer.
The tap water is delicious.
After living in a place that’s hotter than the sun half the year, I carry a 40-ounce insulated water jug.
Everywhere. All the time.
And every time I fill it from the tap, I rejoice inside.
You can have your sodas, iced tea, and lemonade, those are all water but just a little less watery.
I’ll go full strength, 100 Proof Water.
And that brings me to this distillery.
Jackton Distilling in Jackton, Scotland, is gently nestled between East Kilbride and Eaglesham.
Oddly enough, East Kilbride is west of West Kilbride.
Nobody can explain that, which adds to the mystery.
They have wonderful water here and the kicker for me, is that they have piped in water from wherever water comes from, but all the water for the whisky comes from their own delightfully deep well.
And James Kean, the Dad from the Kean Family that built this place, actually found the spring with a dowsing rod.
A dowsing rod.
I ain’t making this up.
Seriously, if the Romans had a dowsing rod and found this spring when they were plundering and pillaging around Scotland, there would have been a Roman spa here that might still be operating.
A dowsing rod.
I thought that was just hillbilly folk tale stuff.
But he used it, found the spot, drilled a well, and now that perfect water gets magically turned into great Scotch whisky.
So I’m lucky to spend time here, drink great water and the corresponding whisky.
And I have two more words for water to add to the Scottish lexicon.
Good whisky.
