Boy, I don’t know what’s not to like about Kentucky. Big, big rolling hills outlined by black or white plank fences and dotted with massive trees. Horses strut around in the bluegrass meadows and tobacco leaves are seen drying in the black barns. Simple distillery warehouses that Holly has dubbed “bourbon barns” stand tall in the fields. It’s very picturesque here and there always seem to be something going on.

We began our stay at Fort Boonesborough State Park in Richmond. Historically, it’s where Daniel Boone came in 1775 and began building the fort. When we were there, it was the site of the ninth annual “Halloween Fest.” It was mad cap! Almost every single camper trailer (about 200 of 'em) was decorated to the hilt. Any given display here put the average Joe’s home Christmas display to shame. There were inflatable Draculas, dangling UFOs, gravestones, jack-o-lanterns, scarecrows, headless horsemen, corn stalks, witches, ghoulish heads, ghosts of all sizes and orange lights beyond belief. The place was alive with people wandering about and an eerie glow settled over the place based on the wattage being put out. I was a little disconcerted upon hearing the theme song from the movie “Halloween” as I entered the bathhouse late one night. Piped-in screams and groans filled the air next. I kid you not. I was sure to make quick work of showering before the “Psycho” music had a chance to start playing.

The number of bourbon distilleries in Kentucky is dizzying. We chose to tour Maker’s Mark with its original buildings in Loretto, now listed on the National Historic Register. Each of these structures is painted to emulate the Maker’s Mark bottles — the siding is deep amber (bourbon), the trim is beige (paper label) and the shutters are red (dipped wax). It’s very distinctive. When you enter the bourbon barns, the sweet bourbon scent envelops you. It comes from the evaporation that occurs as the barrels sit and age. They refer to the intoxicating fragrance as the “angels’ share.”

Quite possibly one of the weirdest sites we’ve come across yet was on our way back from the distillery. We were on some little two lane highway when we passed a two story house with a couple of people hanging out on the roof. When I say “on the roof” I mean on the peak of a steep 8:12 roof pitch. And when I say “hanging out,” I mean playing the guitar and reading a book. I didn’t see any jug with double “X” on it, but I definitely wouldn’t rule that out.