In the Blood: Kinglake’s Whisky With Desert Rock Swagger.

Some whiskies behave. They button up, polish their manners, and recite tasting notes like a catechism. Kinglake Distillery doesn’t do that. From its off-grid perch in the Kinglake Ranges, Sam Lowe and Chantal Daniels are busy crafting whisky that would rather rattle your teeth than smooth your feathers. Their latest, In the Blood, is a whisky with bark still clinging to it - feral, textural, and just the right kind of loud.

Daniels is a third-generation Kinglaker, which means this patch of bush isn’t just where she works - it’s her DNA. Lowe, meanwhile, has the restless streak of someone who refuses to play along with whisky orthodoxy. Together, they’ve built a distillery entirely off the grid: solar panels instead of power lines, water from the local creek instead of treated mains, and fermentations left wide open to catch whatever pollen, yeast, or atmospheric mischief the ranges decide to blow in. That choice alone tells you everything - you’re drinking whisky as much shaped by weather, flora, and fate as by malt and oak.

Looks like the bush finally learned how to shred a guitar solo… in liquid form.

And the malt? It’s a carefully tuned blend: 50% Atlas La Trobe, 25% heavily peated Simpson malt from the Scottish Borders, plus Vienna and chocolate malt for depth. Distilled in a 2,500-litre pot still handmade in Tasmania by Peter Bailly, the spirit has muscle before it even sees wood. For In the Blood, it first spent three years and ten months in 110-litre ex-bourbon casks from Michigan’s Journeyman Distillery. A solid groove, you might say. But then came the riff change: a finish in 50–85L barrels coopered from native Australian Red Gum by Andrew Stiller and George Smithwick, a sixth-generation cooper whose lineage alone could fill liner notes.

Red Gum isn’t your average oak. It’s dense, stubborn, and unforgiving - more Kyuss desert riff than smooth Highland reel. Most coopers won’t touch it. Kinglake and their coopers did, and the result is unmistakably Australian. On the nose: raspberry liqueur and dark chocolate. On the palate: chocolate, young pinot noir, and pink grapefruit. And then comes the long, structured finish - dark beer, clove, malt extract, cumin, black cherry. It’s whisky that doesn’t just hit notes; it grinds out a full-tilt riff and lets the feedback ring. Call it whisky with grit in its DNA - or, if you prefer, whisky that plays like No One Knows on repeat.

And the name? In the Blood isn’t just branding. It’s a sly nod to the fact that this whisky feels inherited, not invented - bushland, spring water, pollen, even the grit of Red Gum woven into its character. It’s as if the landscape itself ran in the family vein and finally found expression in a bottle. Some whiskies are learned behaviours; this one’s instinct.

But here’s the kicker: In the Blood is no mainstream release. It dropped through Barrel Lane, Australia’s whisky club with a knack for unearthing the rare, the experimental, the bottles you won’t stumble across in your local bottle-o. Think of them as the independent label for the country’s whisky underground - curating small-batch runs, pressing limited editions, and putting them in the hands of people who crave something with a pulse. With an average rating hovering around 4.8 stars, they’ve built a reputation not just for delivering bottles but for delivering stories worth drinking.

And In the Blood is exactly that: a story in liquid form. A distillery rooted in landscape, a cooperage with six generations of oak behind it, and a finish in a native timber few dare to touch. It’s not just whisky - it’s terroir, tradition, and a touch of defiance, bottled at 46% ABV and dressed for those who prefer their drams with a bit of swagger.

This isn’t the dram you sip politely by a fireside with slippers on. It’s the dram you pour after a long mountain hike, or after a gig when your ears are still humming with distortion. It’s whisky that belongs as much in a rock magazine spread as in a tasting journal. And thanks to Barrel Lane, it’s not just a Kinglake secret - it’s a bottle you can actually grab, though not for long.

So pour a glass. Let the Red Gum bite. Turn the volume up. In the Blood doesn’t want to be tamed - it wants to be played loud.

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Words by AW.

Photo courtesy of Barrel Lane Whisky Club.