Mammoth Distilling

By Meghan Swanson

When Chad Munger laid the foundation for Mammoth Distilling, he wasn’t thinking about time. He and his wife Tracy Hickman were thinking about place; in particular, they were thinking about northern Michigan. If you’re picturing Michigan’s mitten-like shape as it appeared on your colorful social studies map back in school, northern Michigan or ‘up north’ would encompass the tips of the fingers. It’s a region that was shaped by the gargantuan, slow grind of glaciers long ago, a still half-wild place where forests drape the shoulders of gently rolling hills and freshwater lakes lap at the edges of sandy dunes. It’s dotted with farms and orchards reveling in the blessing of a unique and fecund agricultural climate. All four seasons make their entrance here each year with dazzling intensity, and its natural beauty draws hundreds of thousands of visitors annually. When Chad and Tracy decided to root their little seedling of a distillery in northern Michigan, they unwittingly became woven into the story of the region, picking up and tucking in threads that stretch a hundred years back into the past.

“Everything I know about distilling, I’ve learned in the last seven years.” - Chad Munger

As native Michiganders, Chad and Tracy had spent summers growing up in northern Michigan with their respective grandparents. In 2008, they inherited some land in northern Michigan, and decided to build what was meant to be a summer home. However, Chad loved the area so much he began spending more and more time at their ‘summer’ home until the two had more or less moved in permanently. He enjoyed his time in northern Michigan immensely, but Chad did miss the sense of community he and Tracy had enjoyed in Chicago. “In a town this size, if you didn’t go to high school here, you really are never gonna be from here.” Chad explains with a smile. “So the best you can do is pitch in a little around the sides.” he says. Chad and Tracy started to roll around ideas for a business they could start that would create jobs in the region and let them meet the people of their community. 

They had noticed how local brewery Short’s Brewing Company had been successful in bringing jobs, tourism, and a place to gather to their local area, but they didn’t want to get into the same arena and bring competition where it wasn’t necessary. It was at Maud’s Liquor Bar in Chicago that inspiration struck. Chad was at the bar waiting for a table when a quirky customer nearby insisted on buying everyone an aviation cocktail. Put off by the man’s oddball demeanor at first, Chad eventually acquiesced and learned that his new acquaintance worked at Death’s Door Spirits out of Wisconsin. This was the moment that Chad, with no prior experience in the field of beverages or hospitality, realized that there was a craft portion to the spirits industry. Now that he knew there was room in the distilling arena for more than just the Jim Beams and Jack Daniels of the world, it seemed possible that he and Tracy could start their own craft distillery to realize their goals in northern Michigan; both successful business owners in Chicago, they’d be able to fund the project themselves.

Lucky for Chad, his alma mater Michigan State University (MSU) happened to be one of just three places in the entire world providing formal education in distilling. The late Dr. Kris Berglund offered an artisan distilling program under the broader umbrella of MSU’s College of Agriculture and Natural Resources. Chad signed up for the weekend version of the artisan distilling course, learning all he could from Dr. Berglund about distilling in those few days. He even briefly met his future business partner, Ari Sussman, in the course - though he didn’t yet know that Ari would become an integral part of Mammoth Distilling.

“It felt right. I came home and told my wife - we’d been married three weeks or something at the time - ‘These are my people’.” - Ari Sussman

Ari Sussman also attended MSU, but unlike Chad, he has extensive experience with hospitality and the beverage industry. He grew up in Ann Arbor and majored in political science at MSU. Intending to enter the world of politics, Ari took a job at the state capitol; it was a matter of months before he realized the sinking pit in his stomach about the position would never go away, and he was not on the right path. He quit, and like it so often does, opportunity came knocking from an unexpected direction. A close college friend, also jobless, invited Ari to come work at his grandmother’s bed-and-breakfast - in France. They bought tickets and headed across the Atlantic to work at the chateau. 

One day, Ari noticed a shepherd taking a herd of goats down the lane outside - as one does, in France. He’d seen the goats before, but today curiosity spurred him out to the road to ask where they were headed. The shepherd told him the herd belonged to the winery down the road, and that they were going to make cheese. Ari knew he had to try this cheese, and so he made his way down to the winery himself. That visit led to a job pruning the vines in the fields. The work was physical, dirty, chilly in the mornings and sweaty in the afternoons, but one thing it did not do was give Ari the sinking pit in his stomach he’d had at the capitol. He felt good doing this work and knew he was in the right place.

Ari would spend the next three years bouncing between hospitality work in Michigan and an informal, on-the-job viticulture education in France. Thanks to this experience, Ari thought he might like to start his own winery. However, a bequest granted to the University of Michigan by an alumna would alter his path. A benefactor gave an enormous collection of culinary literature - the largest in the country - to the university’s special collections. Of particular interest to Ari were the antique cocktail books. “Before I would go work a bartending shift, I would sometimes go down to this little reading room, put on gloves - you couldn’t take pictures - and I would hand-copy…the recipes and go to the bar and make the drinks.” he recounts. What he started to notice, however, is that many of the liquors called for in the old recipes simply didn’t exist anymore. 

His curiosity, like Chad’s, led him to sign up for Dr. Berglund’s workshop at MSU. During a lecture by John Jeffery on the effects of barrel size on aging liquor, Ari felt the flame that the culinary collection and his hospitality work had kindled inside him grow to a roaring blaze. After coming home from the course he shared his excitement with his new bride, and then promptly called Dr. Berglund to ask for a job - any job. He would mop the floors if Dr. Berglund would allow him to work in the distilling lab. There was no work for Ari, not even as a janitor - but, Dr. Berglund allowed, he could come back and bartend at the next weekend workshop. This was all the opening that Ari needed, and he would eventually be hired and ultimately work his way up to manager of the distillery at MSU. 

“Our business started out with an inventory of gin and literally nowhere to sell it.” - Chad Munger

Chad and Tracy had selected what they thought was going to be the perfect physical location for Mammoth Distilling. They had set aside a 10-acre piece of property that had the eventual option to expand into 80 additional acres butting up to a bluff that overlooked the Glacial Hills recreation area. As they began to draw up the blueprints and order equipment, they ran into trouble. The neighbors around their 10-acre parcel were staunchly opposed to a distillery operating there. Since the entire purpose of the distillery was to become part of the fabric of the community, Chad and Tracy backed off on their plans - upsetting their immediate neighbors would’ve been a poor start to their business. 

While Chad and Tracy wrangled with startup issues, Ari had beaten them to the punch and founded Ann Arbor Distilling Company with another partner. He had a small space in Ann Arbor with room for a little tasting area, but longed to expand. When a welder working in the same building moved on and a beautiful 5000 square foot addition directly adjacent to his current space came available, Ari had to pounce on the opportunity. The only problem - a huge backlog on distilling equipment meant it would take Ari a very long time to get equipment for the new space. Meanwhile, Chad had just received a Christian Carl still he’d ordered over eighteen months prior for Mammoth Distilling. That week, he gave Ari a call. “Ari, it turns out I’ve got a still but I don’t have a room for it.” Chad recounted from their conversation. He told Ari, “You’ve got a beautiful building, I’ve got a beautiful still, you’re down there [in Ann Arbor], you can make for us, we’ll split still time. You can work on both - if you’re successful, we’re successful, and vice versa.” With this spirit of collaboration, the still was placed in the empty space and made for a perfect fit. It would be two more years before Mammoth Distilling found its permanent home and the still was moved to become part of the equipment there. 

With the still in place, the first carefully blended spirit (gin) in the bottle, and big distilling dreams in their heads, the Mammoth team was ready to go. There was just one little problem. “What’s unusual about the way we did this business, it wasn’t intentional and it wasn’t smart, was that we started making product before we actually had a retail outlet for it.” Chad explains. Mammoth needed to get a facility in place and needed it quickly. Chad wanted that first tasting room to really be in their backyard, serving their actual community. “We want to be here. We want to do business in towns that don’t have business in them.” he says. They chose Central Lake, technically a ‘village’ with a population of a little over 900 people. “There’s nothing in Central Lake except us, a grocery store, and a 120 year old five-and-dime store.” Chad tells us. Yet, despite the town’s tiny population, the tasting room was a smashing success. It’s now one of five tasting rooms Mammoth has sprinkled across the area. “It creates a sense of pride in people. In an area that doesn’t have a lot of that, it’s important.” Chad tells us. “It’s not about money, it’s about pride.” he emphasizes. 

“It was very clear to me this grain was going to be part of our future.” - Chad Munger

Chad, Ari, Tracy, and the team at Mammoth’s commitment to the community has recently manifested in the form of a very special grain and its fantastical origin story. Ari, historical beverage literature fan that he is, turned up a Christmas ad in a 1934 edition of Vanity Fair one day. It was from Schenley Industries - the Diageo of its day - and was advertising their bottled-in-bond rye whiskey. “The copy at the bottom of the ad read ‘This whiskey is made with the most flavorful and compact kernels Mother Earth produces: Rosen rye grain in Michigan and Wisconsin’.” Ari recites for us. Why, Ari wondered, would Schenley be touting the quality of Michigan rye in its flagship product, a rye whiskey produced in Pennsylvania? Then he found mention of this Rosen rye again, and again; even the Seagram’s distiller’s manual from the 1940s prescribed Rosen rye, and it was also championed by Pennsylvania Michters, as we chronicled in our article with Stoll & Wolfe Distillery in August 2021. “It was like, how did we not know about this?” he exclaims. He went right down the rabbit hole and tracked this seemingly magical rye’s origins. “The story, of all places, goes right back to Michigan State University.” he reveals with a gleam of satisfaction in his eye. 

In 1903, MSU (then known as Michigan Agricultural College), hired a brilliant breeder of plants named Frank Spragg. He was the first plant breeder to be hired on by any North American university - and it would pay off for MSU and Michigan in a big way. Joseph Rosen, a Russian Jew, was exiled from his homeland by the Tsar at the turn of the last century. He made his way to MSU, and studied under Professor Spragg. Russia had been a leader in plant breeding for the past 50-100 years; Spragg, understanding the opportunity, asked Rosen to request seed from his father in Russia. Using Rosen’s sample, Spragg came up with a hybrid that he named Rosen rye. It was perfect; it outperformed every local variety they put it up against. By 1920, Michigan was the largest producer of rye in the United States. 

As Rosen rye’s prowess became known outside of Michigan, seeds were shipped away to farmers all over the country. To Spragg and Rosen’s astonishment and pleasure, it outperformed local varieties across the nation. What used to be simply a cover crop for farmers had morphed into something profitable. “There’s a strong economic incentive now for farmers to grow rye. [It] has the second benefit of tasting really amazing in whiskey.” Ari says, grinning. “There was a time…between the 1920s and…the end of World War Two, when Rosen rye in particular was central to the character of American whiskey.” he tells us. There was just one issue with the wonder-grain; it was too promiscuous. 

As soon as a crop of Rosen got cross-pollinated, its superior qualities would get muddled by other, lesser strains. Frank Spragg saw that, if Rosen rye was going to survive, he needed to intervene. He saw to it that crops of pure Rosen rye were planted on South Manitou Island, an island ten miles offshore within Lake Michigan. Here, Ari interjects with excitement, “Which happens to be - that’s our ‘hood!” Between sheer distance and prevailing winds that blow from the island to the mainland, this crop could not be cross-pollinated. The tiny island crop became the only seed stock for Rosen rye; Spragg had saved the wonder-grain from total extinction. Now that he’d saved the rye, someone had to actually nurture the crop and keep that seed stock going. This is where the farming families who called South Manitou Island home stepped in. The Hutzler and Beck farms took their duty of preserving this special rye very seriously. “In 1917, they formed a compact,” Ari says. “Any farmer that lived on South Manitou Island that grew a rye other than Rosen would be drowned.” he delivers this dramatic edict in a solemn tone. 

Fortunately, to Chad and Ari’s knowledge, nobody was ever drowned over Rosen rye. Instead, South Manitou Island became known as the rye capital of the world. Ari’s interest was piqued; he knew this was the right fit for Mammoth’s work, especially given its close connection with MSU. “We needed to get our hands on Rosen rye.” he declared. “Unfortunately, no one has grown it commercially for decades.” he revealed. As soon as the picture became clear, he got on the phone with Chad.

Chad didn’t even wait to hear the entire story; his faith in Ari’s research and his dawning understanding of the stakes dictated he hang up immediately and call the USDA for seed.He needed to get some Rosen rye and get in the ground as of yesterday. The USDA sent Mammoth 18 grams of seed, and this is where the story comes full circle; Chad and Ari turned to the progenitor of Rosen rye, MSU. Dr. Eric Olson of the Department of Plant, Soil, and Microbial Sciences answered the call. Chad remembers that Dr. Olson was “super accommodating”, and together they hatched a plan to revive Rosen rye in the modern era.

“If we had stopped to think how hard this would be, we might not have done it.” - Chad Munger

Chad and Ari knew they didn’t need to reinvent the wheel. Dr. Frank Spragg had it all figured out a hundred years ago. There was just one little hurdle to face; South Manitou Island is now part of the Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, managed by the National Park Service (NPS). Together with MSU, they approached the NPS about re-planting fields of Rosen rye on the historical Beck and Hutzler farms. Mammoth Distilling was granted a 5-year special use permit, automatically renewable, to grow on the two farms’ 16 acres. Re-introducing Rosen rye to South Manitou Island has “...been the experience of a lifetime for everybody.” Chad says with pride.

Farming on the island is no cakewalk, permit or no permit. South Manitou Island is only reachable by boat, a treacherous crossing that is prevented by poor weather at least half the time. “Manitou Island is not easy to get to. It is totally surrounded by shipwrecks.” Ari explains. The Manitou Passage offers the best shipwreck hunting in the region for the adventurous diver. Once you make it to South Manitou Island, there are no facilities. Literally everything Mammoth Distilling workers need to farm their crops must be brought with them; they rely on NPS boats and barges to bring equipment and tractors. NPS regulations must be followed; material cannot be taken from the ground, even timber or rocks to weigh down a disc harrow that needs a little extra heft to be effective. There is no power, no running water, and no lodging. Any Mammoth Distilling employee who takes on farming duties must camp on the island and be totally self-sufficient - in addition to being prepared to be stuck on the island for additional days if the weather does not cooperate for their return crossing.

Chad is deeply grateful to the employees who choose to undertake this work, citing his age as an obstacle to performing it himself. Doug Burke, head agronomist, Matt Hayes, ‘yeast wrangler’, and Collin Goddard are all willing to take on the challenge. “They love it. It’s become a little cult for them, I think.” Chad jokes. Humor aside, Chad is very proud of the historical connections of Mammoth’s work on the islands. Collin Goddard’s great-great-grandfather actually served as the lighthouse keeper on the island long ago, making his work on the island part of a family tradition. 

“If you’re going to go to the trouble to select grain for flavor, you do not want to cover up that flavor with oak. You want to support that flavor with oak.” - Ari Sussman

It is apparent that, for Mammoth Distilling, the most important part of their product is the grain they start with. After all, why else would they go to the trouble of roping in the USDA, MSU, and the NPS to revive a hundred year old varietal of rye (not to mention the wilderness camping and precarious lake crossings required to do so)? Mammoth Distilling’s approach is simple. Given a choice, “heritage grains versus commercially available grains…is easy. Those grains are bred for yield. Breeding for yield breeds out character.” Chad tells us. Mammoth chooses to “make the grain prominent.” according to Chad. All of Mammoth Distilling’s grain is grown within 25 miles of their distillery; the first batch of rye they bought to use in their Woolly Rye was purchased from a neighbor who is a retired state policeman. “We care what we grow because we’re looking for grains that have actual character.” Chad states firmly. From Mammoth Distilling’s perspective, heritage grain is just perfect. They’re a small operation; “we’re a long way from Jim Beam in size, here,” Chad says with a chuckle. “The stills are not automated. Every single valve gets turned by hand.” he says. They also, clearly, believe in the power of rye. “We love rye, we believe it’s the most flavorful of American grains in whiskey. Maybe the most flavorful of any grain you can make whiskey from.” says Ari. 

American spirits also tend to be, as Ari postulates, dominated by oak flavors (in particular, oak flavors imparted by char #4 barrels). Mammoth Distilling’s spirit-forward, grain-focused approach is different. “That’s a style of whiskey that takes an old-world ethos but applies it to something that only, really, you can do in North America.” Ari says. If you think they’re against American oak altogether, however, you’d be wrong. They simply want to wield it lightly where other distillers use it with abandon. “The wood is there for an important reason,” acknowledges Ari. “It’s to frame, like a wooden frame on a picture, it’s to frame the spirit. It’s to create a balance between the character of the grain and spirit.” he finished.

“What we’re trying to do in northern Michigan is in our bottles.” - Ari Sussman

Mammoth’s whiskeys are divided into two product lines: Hand-Hewn and Borrowed Time. Hand-Hewn represents their house-made products, such as their Woolly Bourbon and Woolly Rye. The Borrowed Time line represents sourced and blended products like their 17-Year Bourbon or Small Batch Bourbon as well as their Northern Rye. For the Northern Rye, Ari and Chad were inspired by Canadian rye whiskey. American distillers tend to use a mash process, mixing a certain ratio of different grains together and then distilling them together, but Canadian distillers often take a different approach. They’ll distill each grain individually, then blend the resulting distillates together to make their final whiskey product. The Northern Rye is made using this method to find the perfect balance of flavor from each grain. The Woolly products do use the American mash method and that rye mash is composed of 88% Wheeler rye, 10% Conlon barley, and 2% toasted Conlon barley. The toasting, Ari explains, yields what he terms Maillard flavors - a reference to the Maillard reaction, the chemical reaction achieved through searing, frying, baking, etcetera that gives browned food its distinctive, enjoyable flavor.

Mammoth sources that Conlon barley from Alison Babb, a person who Chad and Ari speak of with a blend of bemusement and reverence. She’s a skilled welder, runs her own malthouse, Empire Malting, and is also a renowned hunter of Michigan peat bogs. Michigan is surrounded by the largest freshwater reservoir in the world, according to Ari. Chad explains how the freshwater imparts a unique flavor to Michigan’s peat, as opposed to the more commonly known Scottish peat. “This peat, exposed to fresh water instead of salt water, contains no iodine and thus lacks that classic band aid flavor of many single malts and replaces it with something much more floral.” he relates. Mammoth is using this northern Michigan peat in their Michigan single malt. “We are just about two years in the barrel on our first run, and will start to put more volume away after we add additional still capacity.” Chad discloses.

Matt Hayes, Mammoth’s assistant distiller and aforementioned ‘yeast wrangler’ earned his latter title through an obsession with yeast born of his education in biology and chemistry. “Every input and technique we use to make spirits is in the service of highlighting a northern Michigan terroir: this includes yeast.” Chad shares. The fermenters they use right now are not sealed; they are hinged, open-top vessels that are deliberately left exposed “a good portion of the time to encourage wild yeast and bacterial inoculation of our fermentations.” Chad explains. Mammoth’s intention, through Matt’s work, is to continue to explore the propagation of local strains of yeast over the coming years.

“[We’ve] created real strong bonds among people that we wouldn’t expect, we’ve met lots of people that we didn’t know existed in the community that created something that’s been there all along, but just needed the spark.” - Chad Munger

To this day, Mammoth Distilling’s first commitment is to hospitality. They distill first to meet the needs of their tasting rooms, and only after those needs are met do they begin to consider distribution. At this time, if you’d like to taste Mammoth’s meticulously crafted Hand-Hewn whiskey, you’ll have to treat yourself with a trip to northern Michigan. Chad says that they may begin selling their whiskeys for distribution in 2022. 

In addition to that commitment to hospitality they’ve held close from the very beginning, they have been presented with a surprise opportunity. Their Rosen rye project has not escaped notice. “We’ve gotten a lot of attention. It’s become very clear that we can become a grain company.” Chad shares. It’s a way to create revenues for farmers in their community - an action perfectly aligned with Mammoth Distilling’s founding principles. “The market is big enough it can affect the agricultural market up here as well.” Chad explains. Northern Michigan boasts four distinct hardiness zones, as defined by the USDA. The combination of northern Michigan’s abundant fresh water and its diverse hardiness zones makes for a uniquely productive agricultural region. “From a whiskey-making point of view, up north means something very special. It means you have a lot of paints for your palette.” Ari observed.  “Because our mission here is to create jobs and help the economy and build the community, it just really plays directly into that in a way we hadn’t expected.” he relays. “If coming to Michigan is not on your agenda,” Ari adds, “this is another way that we can create a product that will impact northern Michigan in a positive way.”

“This is not something we did to make a bunch of money and get out of.” - Ari Sussman

When we asked Chad and Ari about their approach to branding, we got an amused reaction. “Everything has happened haphazardly,” Chad confesses. “There wasn’t a master plan, right? We all kind of knew intuitively what we were trying to do, but we didn’t…we weren’t innate storytellers,” he admits. Recently, Mammoth Distilling has undergone a marketing exercise meant to clarify the brand’s story and tighten up the common message coming from each of their tasting rooms. 

Mammoth Distilling’s freshly minted brand book emphasizes a few words that define their operation. In particular, generosity is a focus of the brand. When we asked Chad about it, he replied “We’re a hospitality-driven business still, by and large, even though that’ll change…that’ll always be core to our DNA as a company. Being generous in that environment is what makes us thrive.” he contends. “Again, great products make great buyers, sure. But generous people running those places is really what makes us specialists here.” Chad says. “I think if you had a chance to talk with people who interact with our brand on the hospitality side, that’s what they would tell you.” he answered.

We noticed that while the woolly mammoth was always present on Mammoth Distilling’s bottles, the second animal on the label frequently changes. Chad let us in on the secret; on the Hand-Hewn series, the second animal is always a Newfoundland dog. The Newfoundland dog is perhaps most famously represented as the dog Nana in J.M. Barrie’s original text for Peter Pan. Chad and Tracy are self-professed dog people, and the Newfoundland is a hardy northern breed. “My wife and I always have Newfoundlands…we love ‘em, they’re just part of our family identity. That dog on the label is a representation of the first one of those we ever had.” Chad reveals. 

When it comes to the Borrowed Time series, Chad told us that the second animal was intentionally always a member of an endangered species. Additionally, he translated the Latin motto for us - “While he roams, there is hope.” Chad and Ari tried to stick with northern animals for these labels, which is why you might see a polar bear, for example, opposite their signature woolly mammoth. 

Mammoth Distilling might possibly be the only American craft distillery to print three separate languages on their label. In addition to English and Latin, they include the Ojibwe name for Torch Lake, Wasgoning, as an homage to the indigenous legends told of the region in which they grow and distill their product. Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore is named for the legend of a mother bear who fled a forest fire on the western shore of Lake Michigan. She had two cubs in tow, but after swimming so far they lagged behind. When the mother bear reached the shore, she waited, but her exhausted cubs drowned in the lake. The Great Spirit Manitou, in sympathy, raised two islands to commemorate the lost cubs - these became North and South Manitou Island, and the winds buried the sleeping mother bear under the dunes, becoming Sleeping Bear Dunes’ namesake.

“This is about creating opportunities for other people to do good things.” - Ari Sussman

One thing that’s clear is that nobody who works for Mammoth Distilling is doing it to get rich. Everyone is doing it for love. “You’ve gotta be scrappy to be a plant and survive in northern Michigan.”, Chad informs us. He was talking about lavender, but in a rather oblique way, we know he also means everyone who works and contributes to Mammoth Distilling. It’s not just the employees who choose to cross the treacherous Manitou Passage and camp out near the precious Rosen rye, but the employees who staff the five tasting rooms dotting the tip of Michigan’s mitten. Ari says, “Mammoth has provided a platform for a lot of creative and energetic individuals to follow their own passions, but with the goal in mind to create this company that we can be in love with, that can express what’s going on up north.” Employees can exhibit their art in the tasting rooms, perform their music, organize trivia nights. As Chad says, “More important than what you’re pouring is how you’re pouring it.” 

What do Chad and Ari mean when they say ‘up north’? “When you’re on vacation in Michigan, you’re ‘up north’. That’s what we say. We want people to go buy a bottle off the shelf because we want them to remember what it’s like.” Chad replied. Everyone has their version of ‘up north’ - it could be a Caribbean beach, a perch in the Colorado Rockies, a peaceful bayou in Louisiana or a storm-tossed promontory on the Oregon coast. What Ari and Chad want to give people is that ‘up north’ experience - a release from one’s day-to-day life. A place of beauty, full of welcoming people, interactions free of power dynamics - in short, an idealized life. As one drives north in Michigan, there are tangible triggers that signal one’s transition to ‘up north’. The presence of glacial moraines; a change in the species of trees; beautiful sunsets; bountiful orchards; the smell of a campfire. Chad and Ari intend for Mammoth Distilling’s products to be another trigger that signals the transition to that state of ‘up north’. They also intend for folks to be able to transport to that state with them. “If you’re having a bad day in Detroit, might not be a bad idea to grab a little ‘up north’ with you on a random Tuesday night.” quips Chad. Chad and Tracy were not thinking about time when they dreamt up Mammoth Distilling, but time has become central to the distillery’s ethos. Mammoth Distilling wants to help you wrest a little bit of your time back from the day-to-day bustle of your life; come up north and take it.

TASTING NOTES

Wooly Rye (46% ABV)

Nose: Banana, Oatmeal Raisin Cookie

Palate: The mouthfeel has a slight viscosity to it with a light amount of heat. The front of the palate is bready, like buttered toast with a hint of vanilla that quickly gives into subtle pepper notes on the midpalate. Sour dried cherries and light oak come through on a medium finish. 

This is a tasty rye. Well balanced between bready, spicy and sweet notes. It is great neat but would also stand up nicely in a cocktail. 

Borrowed Time Rye (56% ABV)

Nose: Vanilla, An Old Library, Weathered Pages, Leather Book Covers, Wooden Shelves

Palate: The mouthfeel is silky smooth. Chocolate, vanilla and sugar dominate the front palate. Sweetness persists but classic black pepper comes through in the middle to disrupt the dessert flavors. It all settles together nicely with cinnamon and confectioners sugar rounding out a complex and long finish. 

This is an amazing whiskey. One of the best we have ever tasted.  Especially for a rye, this is a very unique experience. The combination of the silky mouthfeel and sweet flavors make you feel like you’re taking a bite of a perfectly set salted chocolate tart. When the spice first comes in it serves as a pleasant change of pace before settling into something like bread pudding on the finish. 

Infinity (60% ABV)

Nose: Red grapes, Sweet Cherry, Orange Oil, Sawdust 

Palate: The mouthfeel is sharp and spicy with rich chocolate notes up front. Spice comes in fast and strong with cloves, chili powder, and paprika along with some oak and smoke. The sweetness comes back around, like a fudge brownie on a long finish with notes of tobacco and leather. 

Of the three whiskey samples we had the privilege to taste, this has the most traditional American oak influence. We found it to be a bit hot as is, but water definitely helped to open this whiskey up. The push and pull between sweetness and spice makes for a dynamic flavor profile.