This week: Next week is the biggest week in American watches, with Windup NYC at the center of it. So consider this issue the calm before the storm: a pour, a confession, and two very different stories about trucks and promises.

There's a thread running through all three sections, and it's patience. Whisky that keeps aging after the stills go cold. A villain's watch that Omega waited thirty years to make. And a Roadster that has now been "almost here" for most of a decade. Let's get into it.

Edinburgh's Holyrood Distillery has stopped making whisky. Managing director Rob Carpenter was careful to say the business isn't closing, and the brand home is still running tours and tastings [1]. But the stills are cold, and nobody will say when they warm back up [1].

Holyrood isn't alone. Over the past 18 months, pauses have hit Slane in Ireland, Jim Beam in Kentucky, and Diageo's Roseisle maltings in Speyside [1]. Carpenter's own read of the industry is grim: he estimates Scotch production may be running at roughly a third of normal [2]. That's his estimate, not an official Scotch Whisky Association figure, but it tells you the mood [2]. Meanwhile GlenWyvis, a community-owned Highland distillery, is heading into administration [2].

Here's the detail that stuck with me. Holyrood gets around 40,000 visitors a year, and those visits now bring in roughly half its revenue [2]! The tour is keeping the distillery alive while the distillery isn't distilling. This is insanity.

The science bit. A paused still doesn't mean paused whisky. Every cask already filled is still doing chemistry: oak lignin breaking down into vanillin, tannins extracting, slow oxidation rounding off the harsh edges of new make, and a small fraction of the spirit evaporating through the wood every year (the angel's share). That's why I don't read this as the death of anything. The industry overfilled warehouses during the boom, and now it's waiting for that inventory to grow up. Think of it as the same controlled decay I wrote about back in Issue 7, just at industrial scale.

And yet someone is still betting on the future. Scotland just approved a new distillery in Ardrishaig, a small village on Loch Gilp [3]. The plan includes production space, a greenhouse, a visitor center with tasting rooms, and a terrace, designed by Organic Architects, the firm behind Ardnamurchan, Nc'nean, and Lindores Abbey [3]. Completion is expected by late 2028 [3].

The site is the best part. It's a contaminated former oil depot on the pier, and the village hasn't made whisky since the Glenfyne Distillery closed in 1937 [4]. Founder John Moore wants a distillery the village can be proud of [4]. It also sits near the Crinan Canal, a natural stop for anyone heading toward Islay and Campbeltown [5]. As someone whose whisky life started on Islay and whose favorite night was built around a Springbank bottle, I'll be watching this one.

So here's the paradox: an old site turning toward whisky in the same season that newer distilleries are switching off. Long-game thinking, in an industry that is nothing but long game.

The fun one. Teeling's newest Small Batch Collaboration Series release is finished in casks from Santa Teresa 1796, the Venezuelan rum producer known for its solera aging [6]. It's bottled at 46% ABV and not chill filtered, so it keeps its texture [6][7]. It's rolling out in Europe this month, with a US release planned for early 2027 [6]. The first 100 bottles sell for EUR 100 each, with net proceeds going to GOAL, a charity supporting Venezuelan communities hit by recent earthquakes [6].

The twist is that this runs both directions. Santa Teresa already released a 1796 rum finished in Teeling Irish whiskey casks, at 45% ABV, available here for around $50 [8]. Same wood, two spirits, passed back and forth across the Atlantic. These both sound quite interesting to me!

Why solera casks are interesting. In a solera, the original cask is never fully emptied [9]. Spirit is drawn off and topped up again and again, so every bottle carries a tiny fraction of the oldest liquid in the system [9]. That means a Teeling barrel that held solera rum is soaked with a blend of many vintages, not just one. A whiskey finished in that wood is picking up a fractional echo of decades. That's a cask finish worth trying.

Some releases I read about. This one I buy. Every year it comes out around my birthday, and it makes me quite happy. I’ve loved most of the A Midwinter Night’s Dram, but still get excited. This and Bourbon County Bourbon Stouts are the two I must have every year. They remind me of the holidays. When they hit the shelves, it means cooler weather and some of the best times of the year. I've been collecting High West's A Midwinter Night's Dram since Act 8, and it's one of my favorite releases every year. This year's is a little different.

Act 14 marks High West's 20th anniversary, and for the first time the series goes beyond port [10][11]. The base is the same as always: Rendezvous Rye, a blend of straight rye whiskeys aged 4 to 10 years [10]. It's still finished in Ruby and Tawny Port barrels, but now Amontillado, Oloroso, and Pedro Ximénez sherry casks join them [10][11].

The rye comes from three mash bills (the grain recipe for each whiskey) [10]:

It's bottled at 49.3% ABV, which works out to 98.6 proof [12]. Yes, that's normal human body temperature in Fahrenheit. It's non-chill filtered with no added flavor, and it's been out in limited quantities nationwide since October 5 at $124.99 [11]. High West's tasting notes lean hard into fruit and baking: wild strawberry, blackberry preserves, and fig on the nose; blood orange, cherry fruit leather, and cinnamon plum crumble on the palate; and a finish like a jam thumbprint cookie with spiced chai [12].

The science bit: five casks, five chemistries. Every one of these finishing casks held a different fortified wine, and each one hands the rye a different set of compounds. Ruby port is young and fruit-forward, aged only briefly so it stays red and bright. Tawny port spends years in small casks with more oxygen exposure, turning nutty and caramel colored. Amontillado starts life under flor, a living film of yeast that floats on the wine, shields it from air, and produces nutty aldehydes; once the flor dies off, the wine continues aging with oxygen. Oloroso never grows flor at all, because it's fortified high enough to keep the yeast from forming, so it oxidizes from the start into walnut and dried fruit. Pedro Ximénez is made from sun-dried grapes, and it's thick, sweet, and almost molasses-like. So Act 14 isn't one finish. It's a blend of finishes layered over a blend of whiskeys.

Thirteen acts with port, and the 14th rewrites the script. The bardstown is new, and a bit odd. We will see how it is! I can't wait to pour mine. This weekend for sure!

I'll say it plainly: I love Bond watches. My Seamaster 2351.80 was a graduation gift (to myself), its serial dates to September 2001, and I wore it at my wedding. If I could collect every Bond Seamaster Omega has ever made, I would. So when Omega dropped a new collection on James Bond Day, I was paying attention. And for the first time in thirty years, I'm rooting for the bad guys.

On October 5, Omega released six Seamaster Diver 300M watches: three for James Bond and three, for the first time ever, for Spectre [13]. The lineup includes two steel models sold individually, plus two limited sets that each pair a steel watch with a platinum-gold one [13][14]. Every past Omega Bond special edition belonged to the good side; this is the first time Spectre gets its own [14]. Omega even teased it the week before, with the logo on its Diver 300M page flipping to the Spectre octopus every few seconds [15].

The one I want: the Spectre edition (ref. 210.30.42.20.01.023).

It gets a black ceramic bezel insert with a matte, grained surface and a 60-minute scale raised in positive relief [14]. The aluminium dial matches it, black and grained, with standard Seamaster hands and markers in white Super-LumiNova [14]. Flip it over and the rotor is cut into the shape of the Spectre octopus, blackened [14]. It's moody, restrained, and exactly the kind of watch a villain would wear to a board meeting.

The Bond edition (ref. 210.30.42.20.03.004) is the hero's version: a blue aluminium dial with laser-engraved waves, a Grade 5 titanium bezel, the Bond coat of arms at 12, and a gun-barrel rotor [14]. It's lovely. But it's also the watch I'd expect. The Spectre is the one that surprised me.

Shared specs. Both steel watches are technically identical underneath [14]:

Price for either steel model is $8,600 [14]. That's actually below the $9,400 Omega charged for the 2022 60th Anniversary Bond edition [16], which I didn't expect.

The science bit. That silicon balance spring is why this movement shrugs off magnetic fields up to 15,000 gauss and earns METAS certification [14]. Traditional balance springs are ferromagnetic alloys; park them near a laptop speaker or a magnetic bag clasp and the coils can stick together, making the watch run wildly fast. Silicon simply doesn't magnetize. The co-axial escapement adds a second advantage: it reduces the sliding friction of a traditional lever escapement, so it depends less on lubrication over the years.

The limited sets. Each set is limited to 77 examples, and neither watch is sold separately [14]. The platinum-gold watches use Omega's alloy of roughly 95% platinum and 5% gold, with solid white gold guilloché dials [14]. The Spectre version gets a grey-to-black gradient over an octopus-inspired pattern, a black ceramic bezel with a platinum scale, and a black-and-gold octopus rotor with the emblem in 18K Moonshine Gold [14]. The box comes with cufflinks, a NATO strap, a loupe, a travel pouch, and more [14]. The price is about $90,000 [14][17]. The steel Spectre is the realistic dream; the set is the fantasy.

Worth noting: this is Omega's second Bond release this year. In May, it launched the Seamaster Diver 300M Chronograph 007 First Light at $9,400, made for the IO Interactive video game [18]. It's also the first chronograph in the Bond Diver 300M family [18]. Two Bond Seamasters in one year, and a new Bond actor still not officially named [19]. Omega is filling the gap nicely.

The main dates for New York Watch Week are October 15 to 18 [20]. Here's everything I've found kicking off on Thursday, October 15 [20]:

Then it's Windup. Windup Watch Fair NYC runs October 16 to 18 at Center415, and it's free and open to everyone, no registration needed [21]. Hours are noon to 6 PM Friday and Saturday, and noon to 5 PM Sunday [21]. It's bigger than ever this year: an extra hall, more than 160 brands, and lead sponsors Bremont, Brew, Bulova, Christopher Ward, and Oris [21]. Expect new launches from familiar names, plus brands making their debut [21].

WatchTime New York also returns to Gotham Hall over the same three days, with VIP access on Friday evening and $35 single-day tickets on the weekend [22]. Between the two shows, you could spend the whole weekend in Midtown and never see the same watch twice.

If you're anywhere near the city, Windup is free, it's in Midtown, and it's the most fun you can have in a room full of watches. More on that next week.

For years people have begged Land Rover for a modern Defender pickup. Land Rover finally built one, and it's going to soldiers first.

On September 16, at a British Army defence event at the Millbrook proving ground, Defender revealed three new Wolf Series II variants [23]. They were built to the UK Ministry of Defence's Light Mobility Vehicle tender requirements [23]:

They come from JLR's new Defender Defence Division, which is bidding for the MoD contract and selling to NATO forces [23]. JLR calls them the first of many variants; the stand also showed a command vehicle and a battlefield ambulance [23]. It's Defender's first military launch since the original Land Rovers and Wolf vehicles that served British forces for more than 70 years [23]. Even the engine is British, built in Wolverhampton, which JLR pitches as "sovereign capability" [23].

A Defender rep at the show was blunt about the luxury image. He said everyone assumes it's an expensive Chelsea tractor, but every military requirement from the old Defender carried over to Wolf Series II, and each one was improved [25].

The science bit: why the army got a unibody. This is the part I find fascinating. The old Wolf was a classic ladder frame: a steel chassis with the body bolted on top [24][26]. Wolf Series II rides on the civilian Defender's D7x aluminium monocoque, where the body shell itself carries the loads [23]. JLR claims a torsional rigidity of 29 kNm per degree, about three times stiffer than traditional body-on-frame designs, plus more payload [23].

Torsional rigidity is how much the body resists twisting, like wringing out a towel. Off-road, one wheel climbs a rock while the opposite one drops into a rut, and that twist goes straight into the structure. A flexible ladder frame absorbs some of it by bending, which sounds rugged but means the chassis is doing part of the suspension's job. A stiff shell keeps the geometry fixed so the suspension does all the work, which gives more predictable handling and less fatigue on joints over time. The tradeoff is that ladder frames are simpler to repair, modify, and stretch into new body styles. The army just bet that stiffness wins. That's JLR's own number, by the way, not independent testing.

Now, the civilian side, which is murkier. JLR and Stellantis signed a non-binding agreement in May to explore product development and shared manufacturing capacity in the US [27]. A report in Automotive News says the first product could be a Defender-badged pickup for the US market [27]. Neither company has confirmed it, and JLR declined to comment [28].

The reason is tariffs. Every Defender sold in the US comes from JLR's plant in Nitra, Slovakia, and a pickup imported from Europe would face duties that make it unviable [27]. Build it here with Stellantis and that problem goes away. Stellantis's idled Belvidere plant in Illinois has been floated as a location, but no site is confirmed [27].

Here's the irony. The big open question is whether a US Defender pickup would use the Defender's unibody, or borrow body-on-frame hardware from Ram or Jeep [27][29]. So the British Army gets the stiff aluminium monocoque, and America might get the ladder frame the army just walked away from. AutoGuide expects the military truck and a US civilian truck to share little beyond the name [24]. I hope they're wrong.

Tesla's second-generation Roadster was finally supposed to be revealed on October 1 in Waco, Texas. Then it slipped again. Are…. We surprised? Tesla pushed the event back two weeks to October 15, citing severe weather forecast for the outdoor venue [30]. Tesla hasn't said whether it will still be in Waco [30].

For context: the Roadster was first shown in November 2017, with deliveries promised for 2020 [30]. Reservation holders paid $50,000 deposits back then [31]. The original claims were 0 to 60 mph in 1.9 seconds, a top speed over 250 mph, and about 620 miles of range [30]. Tesla's teaser shows something wilder than the 2017 concept: thruster plumes, a full-width light bar, and a huge rear wing [30].

The science bit: cold-gas thrusters. Musk has claimed an optional SpaceX package of cold-gas thrusters could cut 0 to 60 to around 1.1 seconds [30]. The idea, as described years ago, is small but very strong pressure vessels of compressed air, refilled by an electric pump [32]. Reports also say the demonstration will be run remotely, with spectators kept far back because the thrusters are loud enough to damage hearing [33].

Why thrusters at all? Because tires are the limit. A car can only accelerate as hard as rubber can grip the road, and the 1.9-second claim already demands roughly 1.4 g. Hitting 60 mph in 1.1 seconds means averaging about 2.5 g. Here's my back-of-envelope estimate, assuming a car of about 2,000 kg: the extra 1 g or so would need roughly 20 kN of thrust from the gas alone. A cold-gas jet's thrust is mass flow times exhaust speed, and compressed gas exits at a few hundred meters per second at best. That means burning through tens of kilograms of stored air in about a second. Not impossible on a demo stand. Very hard to put in a road car you'd park at the grocery store. Thrusters could also point downward to push the car into the road for grip, which is a cleverer use of the same air [32].

I'm a scientist. I want to see the data. October 15, Tesla. Show us.

Outro: So that's the week: stills going quiet while the casks keep working, a villain's watch I can't stop thinking about, and two pickups headed in opposite directions. Next issue, I'll bring you everything from Windup NYC.

Until then: pour something patient, wear something with a story, and drive something you actually understand. See you next week!