Twitter road trips USA: Chicago-Memphis day four - as it happened

After a big night on the town, Benji Lanyado hit the road en route to Nashville, Music City, by way of bourbon, Corvettes and honky tonk.

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Nashville bound ... Benji and the team hit the road for Music City
Nashville bound ... Benji and the team hit the road for Music City. Photograph: /Alamy

Goodnight, Nashville!

We finish in Hollis's honky tonk of choice: Roberts. A "shotgun bar" – Long and thin and lined with shelves of cowboy boots and neon, fans spinning lazily overhead.

The band are rolling through rockabilly; a guitar, double bass, fiddle, and peddle steel guitar – the music here is a little more refined, less Bon Jovi, more Jerry Lee Lewis.

A couple at the front are in full swing – him in a cowboy hat; swirling her in a black dress, red lipstick, and plenty of tattoos. The bar in the middle is filling up, braced for the post-football surge. We're perched here now, a cowboy in a string vest on one side, a man in a full cow-print suit behind us, and the singer has just stated yodelling. Perfect.

We're signing off for the night – a huge thanks to everyone who contributed today. Tomorrow, our finale ... onwards to Memphis.

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And above it all, the captivatingly weird, hulking AT&T building – "The Batman Building" to locals – with giant antennae for ears and spotlights swinging around in the clouds.

On the doors: bouncers in Stetsons. Outside: tipsy groups pacing up and down the strip; men in tees and shorts, girls in perilously high heels or shop-fresh Rhinestone Cowgal getup – shiny cowboy boots and checked shirts.

Every bar has a band in the window banging though the obligatories: Dixie Land Delight by Alabama, Friends in Low Places by Garth Brooks, and Rocky Top, the University of Tennessee fight song.

Nashvegas

Downtown: a five block honky tonk Vegas, lined with neon and more than 50 bars stretching down Broadway from 5th avenue to the Cumberland River. It's brash, bright, teetering between classic and tacky, and I instantly love it.

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Cross cultures

We cross a bridge over train tracks into the Downtown district. In front of us is a perfect example of the contrasts of the South.

In the near distance, the headquarters of LifeWay, the biggest Christian publishers in the US, with a giant granite cross built into the facade. In the foreground, the neon glow of Déjà Vu Showgirls strip bar. In between, a huge gastropub called the Whiskey Kitchen.

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Day four – mapped

Benji hit the road – sadly passing Dinosaur and Mammoth Cave – but making up for it with ghostly bourbon, the most interesting Corvette inventor in the world, regal chicken, and the classiest honky tonks establishments in all of Music City. 

Even the taxidermy likes Patterson House! At least I think that could be called a smile …

A selection of Nashville's own along with a crew from Jack White's Third Man Records.

Doug, our barman, is indulgently excellent – squeezing homemade bitters from tiny bottles with a miniature pipette, twisting orange peel with an elaborate double-wrist flourish. Large spherical ice balls are served spinning in the glass, the liccor poured over the top. He has a beautiful waistcoat. 

I get a Black Walnut Old Fashioned: old forester bourbon, Demerara syrup and Nux Alpina Black Walnut Liqueur. Horrifically good.
Gary gets a Blue Ridge Manhattan: Wild Turkey 81 rye, Carpano Antica ("the greatest sweet vermouth ever" says Doug), Dolin Dry Vermouth, Laphroig.

It comes with a sidecar – a little flask of what didn't make it into the glass from the shaker. His eyelids droop a little as he's drinking it. 

Hollis' message: "All is well. All is very very well."

Mixomytosis

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The Patterson House

We find the address he's given us. No sign on the road, just a door with "The Patterson House" on it. 

Hollis has been wearing a Nashville Rugby vest for the last two days. He's in the lobby, wearing a buttoned up polo, and – ah, it all makes sense now – his wife Katie is here too.

Through the curtains and into the bar, a beautiful dim-lit room with a large central mahogany bar dotted with candles under a pressed tin roof. A dive bar this ain't.

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They're back!

We're on Hollis time. He's told us to get to our hotel an clean up. Gary was instructed to put on a shirt and I was forbidden from wearing flip flops. We wash. It's the first time all day I haven't been sweating. We're off somewhere fancy.

Within two minutes of leaving our hotel I'm sweating again. Significantly so.

Wiki's history of honky tonk

Nashville, being Music City and all, has certain strong associations with the genre and/or bars known as honky tonks. Here is everything the internet's collective brain knows about honky tonk, distilled.

The origin story:

The origin of the term honky tonk is unknown. 

In 1889, the Fort Worth Daily Gazette, wrote:

"petition to the council is being circulated for signatures, asking that the Honky Tonk theater on Main Street be reopened." 

The piano theory:

One American manufacturer of large upright pianos was the firm of William Tonk & Bros, which made a piano with the decal "Ernest A. Tonk". However, these pianos were not manufactured until 1889, after the first occurrences of honky tonk in print.

In 1900 the New York Sun wrote an article that suggested this:

An unsuspecting group of cowboys looking for recreation mistook the honk-a-tonk-a-tonk-a sound from a flock of geese for the sound of a bass viol, after which the name stuck.

In 1929, the Los Angeles Times explained honky tonks thusly: 

"In these establishments, which were often of enormous size, much liquor was dispensed at the tables which crowded the floor, and entertainment of doubtful quality was given on a stage at one end of the room."

At this point Wiki intervenes:

Synonymous with beer joint and similar terms, honky tonks usually serve beer or hard liquor and may have had a bandstand and dance floor. Many may have only a juke box.

Musical definition, at last (sort of):

The first music genre to be commonly known as honky tonk music was a style of piano playing related to ragtime, but emphasizing rhythm more than melody or harmony; the style evolved in response to an environment where the pianos were often poorly cared for, tending to be out of tune and having some nonfunctioning keys.

 Lyrics tended to focus on working-class life, with frequently tragic themes of lost love, adultery, loneliness, alcoholism, and self-pity.

Wiki's heroes of honky tonk:

The Bill Doggett Combo, Fats Domino (who even Vladimir Putin likes), Floyd Tillman, Webb Pierce, Hank Locklin, Lefty Frizzell, George Jones and Faron Young.

Ernest Tubb (the troubadour below) is the man credited with bringing the tonk to Nashville, after which Hank Williams assumed the mantle of Nashville's musical king.

The modern era:

The Rolling Stones went ahead and got gigantic inflatable dolls involved with 'Honky Tonk Woman', and since then the genre's become the provenance of Willie Nelson and Garth Brooks, among many, many others. 

So there you have it: Wiki's brief history of honky tonk, with inflatable dolls and Mick Jagger.

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Top tippage: Music City Part II

Bluebird Cafe: aka Nashville's "centrifuge" (the show's, that is). The music venue bills itself as "one of the world’s preeminent listening rooms … where the “heroes behind the hits” perform their own songs." Via @Z_Everson@seacs and others.

Grimey's for in-store performances, 'new and preloved music', indie expertise, and vinyl … so much vinyl. Via tammymercure.

URP Music Distributors: vinyl so intense they have a countdown for Record Store Day … which is still over 200 days away. From the ubiquitous @2HellW4Giveness.

The Music City Tippler for the music and craft cocktails, which Becky Lynn Street seems to have realized would command Benji's attention.

Third Man Records – Jack White's recording studio and music mecca. See concerts, buy music, hope to catch a glimpse of the man himself or Thom Yorke or any number of White's famous friends. Recommended by @2HellW4Giveness and littmanwrites.

Now we just have to decide which of these to do …

It should be known there is a James Brown Tribute Show at BB Kings tonight, in case that detail might persuade readers to turn Benji loose there.

Top tippage: Music City Part I

The venue and club tippage has been superb, which bodes wonderful things for Nashville's music scene. Here's a selection of what Benji and the guys could see tonight and tomorrow.

First off, this is Nashville – home of the Country Music Hall of Fame. It's unclear whether the 'Carrie Underwood: The Blown Away Tour Exhibition' would Benji blow away any more than the 'Reba: All the Women I Am' exhibit, but I for one sincerely hope that readers band together with @2HellW4Giveness and make him check it out.

Tootsie's Orchid Lounge is more or less the informal home of honky tonk, and was once the favored hangout of Hank Williams and Willie Nelson. Via jonesdog.

Bourbon Street Blues & Boogie Bar, also from jonesdog, who gives it a an honest, laconic and rather compelling endorsement:

Go to Tootsie's and Bourbon Street Blues. But really, just do a dive crawl. There's fantastic music everywhere. And I hate country music.

And before we get to yet more tippage, Dadstheman suggested for the legendary BB Kings Blues Club and its All-Stars. 

Top tippage: Nashville dining edition

Benji and the guys elected to eat early and make the most of the night, availing themselves of Prince's regal chicken. But the tips for Nashville grub have been great:

Monell's Restaurant, for the southern family style pot roast, cheese grits, and biscuits and gravy. It comes with a ringing endorsement.

The Pharmacy, Nashville's 'Wurst-Burger' joint – and biergarten – comes recommended by @ChelseaMSchmidt for its phosphate (ie its soda)

@ChelseaMSchmidt also suggests Marche Artisan Foods, especially the decadent sounding vanilla bourbon latte and croissant french toast.

Cafe Coco in "Nashvegas" the late-night destination of choice, according to @mpressmeredith. Benji has been tailgating, so …

@2HellW4Giveness – who's been all over the Nashville tips – suggests this Barista Parlor, which with any luck the guys can make for breakfast tomorrow.

And finally, @BreakonaCloud recommends Live on the Green for the food and the music – which is kind of a big deal here in Nashville.

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Thursday night lights

It's game night in Nashville – a big one.

It's the first game of the SEC season, and local university Vanderbilt is hosting Ole Miss from Mississippi. Wedgwood Avenue is packed, cars streaming towards the stadium and carparks buzzing with tailgate pre-parties, football fans pumping beer from kegs into ubiquitous red cups.

We join an Ole Miss tailgate, and have a beer with Kurt and Westley, two hulks of men who have driven 5 hours from the bottom of the state to be here. 

Kurt and Westley teach me three things:

1. Mississippi State "suck ass"

2. Robert Nkemdiche, Ole Miss's number 5, is a beast: 6'5", 297lbs, 40 yards in 4.6 seconds, and he has an eight-pack.

3. Louisiana State University (LSU) are "cocksuckers".

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As Benji's mentioned on various occasionally, our photographer Hollis is a Nashville local – and the Guardian has requested his expertise in the past. See the whole set here.

Downtown Nashville.
Downtown Nashville. Photograph: /Hollis Bennett
A Nashville musician
A Nashville musician playing for change. Photograph: /Hollis Bennett
A Nashville campervan.
A Nashville campervan. Photograph: /Hollis Bennett

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How better to celebrate the guys' entry into the city than a playlist by Nashville music blog Break on a Cloud?

Nashville … in real life

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Nashville … on TV

Two Guardian takes on the soapy TV sensation Nashville, from our skeptical Andrew Collins and our in-office TV die-hard Raya Jalabi. First, Collins' review of the first series:

I hereby testify that you needn't dig country music to dig Nashville. All that's required is a soft spot for Dynasty-grade feminine rivalry and interlocking love triangles, not to mention endless, twang-accompanied establishing shots of tourist-brochure Tennessee.

By the end of 21 episodes, every possible romantic configuration has been road-tested – even, shock-horror, a gay lunge, at which point that other essential country element, tragedy, heaves into shot.

I have tired of far more fashionable US dramas than this grand old opera, whose second season can't come too soon. Maybe we're all a little bit country after all.

Raya, on the other hand, hurls an encyclopedia of trivia at us:

Rayna James, lead character country singer of the show, has hair "so famous it has its own tumblr 'dedicated to Connie Britton and her hair.'"

Bluebird Cafe is what Raya calls the show's "centrifuge".

Every episode is named after a Hank Williams song.

Hayden Pannettiere, who plays a ambitious-upstart/riva/co-star country singer to Britton's veteran, has a mother named Jolene … "like the Dolly Parton song."

"The Musica Statue in Nashville's downtown features in Hayden's first music video featured on the show."

"Actress Kimberley Williams-Paisley, who plays the woman Rayna James' husband cheats on her with, is married to real life country music star Brad Paisley." 

Rayna James kids' on the show are sisters in real life, and have a YouTube channel, and were cast for this video. "They were on Ellen or something."

In the least soapy clip of the show I could find, Raya is evidently alluding to these two.

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Just so, so good. A quarter leg with thick crunchy spicy batter, I eat it three times: first a general trim; then into the nooks of the leg and thigh; then a forensic nibble; finally biting into the gristle and bone.

I'm trying to recall eating better chicken, and I'm not sure I can. And I have a Jewish mother.

My hands are coated in pale orange grease and debris. I'm sweating, lips burning. I'm a mess. My cup runneth over.

Royal chicken

Prince's couldn't be more innocuous, a turning off a junction of three petrol stations, a single sign on a small strip of shops, between a nail salon and a discount sportswear store.

Inside, five booths, white painted wood with plastic tablecloths. In the back, a hole on the wall with a till and a vending machine for drinks. Another table selling chess pie in plastic cases.

Hollis, a local, orders the "mild" option of chicken spiciness … alarm bells.

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Missing Mammoth

Time constraints mean Benji won't get to the Mammoth Caves, unfortunately, but the park deserves a quick glance, if only from afar.

The cavern complex is home to eyeless fishes, has a room called the 'Ruins of Karnak', and stretches over 400 miles of passages. Ancient Americans lived in them and 19th century prospectors fought for them. There's a huge forest preserve above, and you can spelunk and camp as you please.

(All this and the photos courtesy the ever helpful National Park Service.)

Mammoth Caves
Broadway in the Mammoth Caves, KY. Photograph: /NPS
Mammoth Cave TN
19th century relics in the Mammoth Cave TN. Photograph: /NPS

Tennessee we see you!

We've crossed state lines and a time zone, currently on the outskirts of Nashville with a thick stream of rush hour traffic coming in the opposite direction.

We've got a hot chicken date. @savoryexposure has chosen an early dinner for us, at Prince's, a popular "Nashville hot chicken" joint in the north of the city. 

Hot chicken, I learn, is marinated in buttermilk, breaded, served with cayenne pepper sauce, pan fried and served in a white bread sandwich. So excited I'm almost crying.

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Harland

While the crew is still in the state, we'd be remiss not to say something about another Kentucky institution: KFC. The 'secret recipe of 11 herbs and spices' was created by Harland Sanders, aka the Colonel. 

Sanders modified a pressure cooker into a fryer and thus turned his Corbin, KY service station into a chicken shop. He then made a fortune and lived to the ripe old age of 90. He was … colorful. Per Josh Ozersky at Time:

His white suit wasn't the invention of a marketing committee; he wore it every day and was never seen in public for the last 20 years of his life in anything else. (He had a heavy wool one for winter and a lighter cotton one for summer.) He was a failure who got fired from a dozen jobs before starting his restaurant, and then failed at that when he went out of business and found himself broke at the age of 65. He drove around in a Cadillac with his face painted on the side before anybody knew who he was, pleading with the owners of run-down diners to use his recipe and give him a nickel commission on each chicken. He slept in the back of the car and made handshake deals. … He once shot a man in a gun battle, but was never charged as the other guy started it. He was a lawyer who once assaulted his own client in court. He was indeed a Kentucky Colonel, an honorary title given to him by not one but two governors. … He deserves to be remembered at least for having a verifiable existence.

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The weather's turned south just as we did. Good thing we're headed for caves. Huge, labyrinthine caves. Nothing could go wrong.

A playlist wrought from the Corvette factory and clashing Twitter requests

The most interesting man in the world?

Other than that, my favourite bit was learning about Zora Arkus-Duntov, the designer and "patron" saint of the Corvette. They like him here. A lot. 

Next to a glass case holding his ashes – yup, his ashes are in the museum – a plaque:

"He was a risk taker. A dashing ladies man. A daring race driver. A brilliant engineer. An opportunist. Reckless. Resilient … He was a man who packed the experiences of 9 or 10 lifetimes into one. A man who defines the term 'living on the edge'."

"He raced motorcycles, smuggled gold during the Depression, flew for the French Air Force. Married a dancer from the Foliés Bergére. He designed locomotives, hand grenades, tractors and lathes, and twice won his class at Le Mans … Zora was a renegade, who believed in himself. He didn't wait for things to happen he made things happen. He didn't just live the American Dream, he helped invent it, by immortalising one of the foremost expressions of fun and freedom, the Chevrolet Corvette."

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Gary and I did get a really nice picture taken though.

Inside, more cars. Cars and pictures of cars and models of cars and stickers of cars, and a huge gift shop selling car things.

I get about halfway around the never-ending museum route before remembering that I'm really not that interested in cars, despite having tried really hard in the past. Sorry.

Very happy and slightly wild-eyed museum attendants hide behind corners here, pouncing on you with car facts every 300 yards or so. Alas, even that didn't get me going.

But if you like cars you should definitely come here. They have lots of cars here.

Meta live blogging. 

Corvette country

Driving into Bowling Green, past the vast Corvette plant – a huge ugly tin shed that runs for miles. Car parks as far as the eye can see.

Across the freeway, the National Corvette Museum. It's about 35 degrees (95F), but in the middle of so much tarmac, it feels 10 degrees hotter (no conversion necessary). Museum employees are loitering outside the building, there's a convention going on – three of them in a row say hello. 

The car park is crammed with classics, all belonging to convention goers inside. 

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Things that are in no way incongruous in Kentucky include Scotland and tinted windows and patriotic decals on a massive pickup.

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Jurassic Kentucky

More crestfallen than John Hammond consoling himself with ice cream, Benji has just learned of and passed by Kentucky's one and only Dinosaur World. He reacted calmly.

The 'life-size dinosaurs located outside in a natural setting', alas, might not be the most stunning models of paleontological fidelity – or even of Jurassic Park – but the museum also has fossils, an artificial dig site and lots of real science.

Though Benji doesn't have time to make Dinosaur World, he should heed Ian Malcolm and remember that life will find a way.

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'Decadent and Depraved'

While the guys are on the road, a quick look back at Louisville is in order, if only to honour the great Kentuckian Hunter S Thompson, whose old home Benji cruised past last night. 

Thompson had quite a bit to say about his hometown's most famous event – even though he couldn't see the race from his spot at Churchill Downs. He wrote a piece for Scanlan's in 1970 titled 'The Kentucky Derby Is Decadent and Depraved’ – a couple gonzo highlights below:

Finally we decided just to go ahead and steal two [press] passes, if necessary, rather than miss that part of the action. This was the last coherent decision we were able to make for the next 48 hours.

Rain all nite until dawn. No sleep. Christ, here we go, a nightmare of mud and madness …. Drunks in the mud. Drowning, fighting for shelter …. But no. By noon the sun burns, perfect day, not even humid.

Total chaos, no way to see the race, not even the track … nobody cares. Big lines at the outdoor betting windows, then stand back to watch winning numbers flash on the big board, like a giant bingo game.

Somewhere up in the boxes a voice screeched, "Turn around, you hairy freak!" The race itself was only two minutes long, and even from our super-status seats and using 12-power glasses, there was no way to see what was really happening.

The rest of that day blurs into madness. The rest of that night too. And all the next day and night. Steadman was lucky to get out of Louisville without serious injuries, and I was lucky to get out at all. One of my clearest memories of that vicious time is Ralph being attacked by one of my old friends in the billiard room of the Pendennis Club in downtown Louisville on Saturday night. The man had ripped his own shirt open to the waist before deciding that Ralph wasn't after his wife. No blows were struck, but the emotional effects were massive.

We can only hope Benji takes Thompson's energy and eye as inspiration for road tripping journalism, if not his exact methods. You can check out Thompson's whole piece here at Grantland

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Kentucky tuneage

Benji's request for playlist requests is well intended, if a little Australian infused … but it's not like Kentucky – the Bluegrass State – doesn't have its own musical tradition. And it's not all bluegrass … just mostly bluegrass (and Clapton for kicks).

The guys are already Tennessee bound, so head below the line and tell us what you want to hear and we'll start piling on the Nashville classics!

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Wired explains what might be discomfiting Benji so, with its illuminating article: "What's inside a Slim Jim?" There's meat, anyway …

Beef
It's real meat, all right … The US Department of Agriculture categorizes beef into eight grades of quality. The bottom three …and come from older steers with partially ossified vertebrae, tougher tissue, and generally less reason to live. ConAgra wasn't exactly forthcoming on what's inside Slim Jim.

Mechanically separated chicken
Did you imagine a conveyor belt carrying live chickens into a giant machine, set to the classic cartoon theme "Powerhouse"? You're right! Well, maybe not about the music. Poultry scraps are pressed mechanically through a sieve that extrudes the meat as a bright pink paste and leaves the bones behind (most of the time).

Wired reveals that Slim Jims – and presumably most brands of meat sticks – also include 'corn and wheat proteins', 'lactic acid starter culture' (bacteria to kill bad bacteria), 'dextrose' (to feed the good guy bacteria), salt, preservatives, and soy – for flavor!

Hollis bought a Matador meat stick at the service station. It consists of beef and "mechanically separated chicken".

I have a small bite. I'm chewing for about three minutes before it's good to swallow. Easily in the top three worst things I've ever eaten.

Axing for trouble

A few miles outside Bardstown, we stop at a service station and local car boot sale. I buy a $4 axe head from a man named Russ.

Russ' roadside emporium:

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Benji and the boys are making their way to The National Corvette Museum in Bowling Green - a showcase for the sexy little sports car that has been in production since 1953.

This one was in production in 1983.

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Raid!

A quick stop in the centre of Frankfort for a souvenir bottle - somewhat ironically, Buffalo Trace can only sell three of its varieties on site. At the Capital Cellars in town, there are hundreds of bottles stacked on the shelves. The clerk, Tony, grew up in Harrow on the outskirts of London, but moved to Frankfort for a woman in 1982. The whiskey probably helped, too.

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For medicinal purposes

We're taken on a whistlestop tour by David. My favourite fact: according to David, it's the longest running distillery in the US, continuously operating since 1773... including during the Prohibition period.

How did they manage that? Well, in 1920, 26 states passed the Medicinal Whiskey Act, allowing up to three pints of 100 proof whiskey per person per month (including babies) to be prescribed by your friendly local doctor for various ailments, including tension, and headaches. During the 14 years of Prohibition, Kentucky doctors signed over 6 million whiskey prescriptions. Patients from states without the law would flock to Kentucky for "second opinions".

We visit the a bottling line, where streams of Blantons Burbon are being hand labelled, waxed, and dropped into boxes.

Then to a storehouse, one of a dozen storing 300,000 American Oak barrels on the property.

It's dark, and the air is thick with liquor - the "Angel's share". 10% of the whiskey evaporates in its first year of storage, and 3-4% every year after that as the proof increases - the average Buffalo Trace is stored for just over eight years.

Finally, a tasting with Don. A sip straight up; a sip after a firm swirl (better); and a sip with a drop of water to "take the edge off". Don gives us a sip of Bourbon Cream for dessert - the equivalent of Baileys, it's delicious - and then a little mixed with root beer for a mini bourbon float. Every now and then, Don tells us, he likes to have a little Bourbon Cream on his oatmeal in the morning, to "hit the road running".

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I ain't afraid of no ghosts

Spirit in the spirits

On Twitter, @mpressmeredith introduces a spooky note. Turns out the distillery is haunted. Bumps in the night, shivers in the cellars. Wooh! Who ya gonna call? GhostbustersGhost Hunters...

Meredith Tarr (@mpressmeredith)

@benjilanyado enjoy your Buffalo Trace tour - but watch out for ghosts! https://t.co/lSB7LludgY

August 29, 2013

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Buffalo Trace 101

What weWiki know about Buffalo Trace:

The company claims the distillery is the oldest continuously-operating distillery in the United States...Records indicate that distilling started on the site sometime before 1773 by Hancock Lee who died in 1776... The first true distillery was constructed [here] in 1812 by Harrison Blanton.

[Burks' Distillery, who produce Makers Mark in Loretto, is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records as the oldest operating bourbon distillery.]

The distillery is located on what the company claims was once an ancient buffalo crossing on the banks of the Kentucky River in Franklin County

Bouquet of bourbon

The road that dips into Frankfort from the interstate is cut deep into a limestone hill. Hollis is talking about trucks, and how our Jeep, which Gary and I are very proud of, is embarrassingly wincy - the kind of car you might get around here after you've just passed your test, to get you going.

We arrive at the Buffalo Trace distillery - a complex of old redbrick buildings, barrels in the windows. In places, the brick is blackened - it looks like soot, but it's actually a unique fungus that only grows where alcohol vapours are present.

You can smell the sweet, oaky bourbon waft. Combined with the thick, wet air - it's incredibly humid here - it feels like we're wading through a bourbon bath. Now there's a thought ...

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Coming up ...

After last night's exploration of Louisville, the crew are now heading out of town to go in search of ... bourbon.

Presumably to discover the provenance of what they were quaffing last night. They're heading into the bluegrass Kentucky countryside, aiming for the Buffalo Trace distillery in Frankfort (as recommended by @Duderonomy). They are also going to check out the Corvette Museum (@Baron254) and Mammoth Caves (@nemocapn) in Bowling Green.

Sadly, that means no time for Louisville's greatest son - and the greatest - at the Ali Center, or the Louisville Slugger Museum, the factory where the famous baseball bats are made and the game's history is recorded.

Neither passed the "Hollis test" - "too cheesy, nice enough, but made for tourists". Thumbs down.

Hard man to please. But he's not as hard as Ali...

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Elixir of the South

At Wagner's Pharmacy in Churchill Downs, you drink ice tea - two pints of the stuff in a huge plastic tumbler. Every order is met with an instant response, "sweet or un-", a sure-fire sign that we're not quite in the real South yet - in the South, it's sweet or nothing.

Our omelettes arrive. Hollis ordered a "Pam & Jacks" - green pepper, onion, tomato, ham, bacon, sausage and two types of cheese. It's the size of a pizza, and the height of a sandwich. Zach (@eaterlousiville) walks in to join us, immediately pointing at it. "What the hell is that?"

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Nose bags on

Breakfast at Wagner's Pharmacy, another tip from@eaterlousiville. It's a cracker. Wagner's has been serving workers from the Churchill Downs race course across the road - home to the Kentucky Derby - since 1922. Jockeys, hot walkers, stall cleaners and owners all come in here for their breakfast, and so do we.

It's a Thursday, so the University of Louisville sports alumni breakfast is underway in the front. Derby week is the only week they don't meet here, when they all go to someone's house for donuts.

In the back, the kitchen and bar are festooned with pictures of Derby winners: our booth is framed by Ventian Way (1960), Majestic Prince (69) and Dancer's Image (68).

No one who works here is under 50, and everyone who works here calls us "sweetie" and "darling". The chairs and tables: pale orange leather and scraped laminate wood, untouched since the 80s. I love it.

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Under starter's orders

Day four. Today, the bar is high, for two reasons.

One: yesterday was brilliant; from Jewish diners to artistic refuges in the woods to high-stakes Louisville ping pong, via a Indiana University statistics class. Beat that.

Two: today, everything must go through the "Hollis filter". Our photographer, Hollis, is a Nashville resident, and, as this is his turf, it's only right the we let him vet your tips, Roman Emperor style ... Thumbs up, or thumbs down.

We're heading south from Louisville this morning... What should we do? Tips to the usual places, if you please: @BenjiLanyado, #TwiTrips, @GuardianTravel, or in the comments below.