Knob Creek Surprise
By Bob White
I can't say it was ever the norm, but at the same time, it wasn't unheard of to start off a guys' day out in Bourbon Country with an hour or so at a gun range.
This was especially fitting for bachelors, birthdays, and fathers’ days.
For obvious reasons, this was never done after a distillery tour or any alcohol at all.
While many of the ranges we visited were nice, climate-controlled and indoor, I'll not forget the day when my tour coordinator instructed me to take a group of bachelors to the largest outdoor range in Kentucky.
Adjacent to Fort Knox, in western Bullitt County, I knew Knob Creek Gun Range pretty well.
As a young teen, my Civil Air Patrol buddies and I would visit KCGR on Saturdays for open paintball battles.
The range held special events and programs throughout the year, but was usually open to walk-ins each weekend – even to novice shooters.
So, I was comfortable driving the bus westbound out KY 44, around the curves and up and down the hill that takes us there up to a point. This was my neck of the woods.
That point was when I began to notice far too much traffic for this stretch of KY 44 in Bullitt County.
“Hm,” I wondered...
At about a mile out, I noticed dozens more vehicles – some of which were parked along the shoulder, with occupants exiting – strapped with big guns on their shoulders and ammo cans in their hands.
“Hm,” I wondered again. “Is this machine-gun shoot weekend?”
Once I turned left onto the gravel drive leading into the range, my wondering was over.
Yep, this is it.
Twice annually, for 50 years, Knob Creek Gun Range hosted the largest machine gun shoot in the United States. We just happened to show up for the fall meet.
The event attracts roughly 10,000 gun-lovers from around the world.
Attendees can rent .50 caliber machine guns, flamethrowers and all kinds of other fun toys to blow off steam, and blow stuff up.
Orientation rides on UH-1 “Huey” helicopters are even offered, for a nominal fee, of course.
Cars, trucks and even full-size buses are brought from salvage yards and onto the main firing range for visitors to watch get riddled with lead and eventually turned into charred hulks of metal after getting hit with other big boomers.
The night shoot is exceptionally popular due to dozens of shooters firing thousands of tracer rounds into the hill at the back of the range.
For bachelors expecting to kill an hour shooting paper targets, however, this was neither the place nor the time.
I gave the boys a head’s up on what we'd just arrived upon – noting it’s a “very special weekend.”
What I didn't disclose was the obvious failure on part of our tour planner by not checking Knob Creek's calendar, then selling these guys on a pleasant morning shooting off a few rounds at a normal gun range.
Motoring down the dusty gravel road into the event, we passed a lot of gun-toting folks, many of whom were wearing camouflage, outdated olive-drab fatigues, or even patches representing militias and other stuff.
One such patch, noticed by my passengers, was an emblem for a certain white nationalist group, that has a less-than-positive reputation.
Looking just the opposite, here I was pulling into this event with my signature fedora, carting a busload of bachelors dressed in pink shorts, sandals and polo shirts as if heading to the golf course – not ready for Armageddon.
“Bob,” one bachelor grabbed my attention. “I don't think this is our crowd...”
Hoping to smooth things over and comfort the crew, I responded.
“Oh, it's definitely not your type of crowd, but let's give it a chance since we're here.”
And they did just that.
I told them all about the special guns and other things available for rent before I dropped them off to park the bus.
To ensure things got off to a decent start, I tagged along with the group for a bit.
Playing escort to my fellas into a sea of camouflage and guns, the sights and sounds could not be ignored.
All sorts of explosions and shots rang out across the property. Earplugs were needed… Always.
There was a gun lovers flea market, a “jungle path” set up for shooters to test their mobile skills, helicopter rides and even a makeshift campground for overnighters.
What a break from the normal bourbon tour!
Not exaggerating at all - on two separate occasions, fatigue-wearing gangs stopped and grabbed the attention of the person next to them, then took photos of me and the bachelors walking amongst that ocean of green and guns.
Yep, we definitely stood out like a busload of sore thumbs.
Assured the guys would be ok, and honestly having no more to offer as a tour guide, I split from the group so they could explore on their own, and hopefully shoot something, as our planner had promised them.
I browsed the event myself for a bit, before taking my out-of-place-self back to the bus for a break.
An hour passed.
I called Jim Beam's American Still House in Clermont to let them know we'd be late for whatever we’d been scheduled for there. I didn't give them an ETA, since I had no clue as to how the day was going, or where we'd end up.
Another hour passed before someone from the group told me the bachelors had split into 2 different groups. Some were shooting .50 cal. machine guns. Others were doing, who knows what, but having fun, according to my informant.
What a relief that was to hear. I’d been a bit concerned.
When the guys finally made it back to the bus, they had nothing but smiles on their faces.
What an experience this had been for us all.
One bachelor, with a big grin on his face, told me he had spent hundreds of dollars on ammo, but had one “helluva good time” firing the largest caliber weapon he’d ever seen.
Others chattered about the crowd, but it was all done with laughs and positivity.
Disaster avoided. The sandal-wearing, pastel-colored group proved their manhood to the crowd.
A goof on part of our planner was turned into an unexpected win and once-in-a-lifetime experience for a dozen fellas visiting Kentucky for a bachelor's weekend.
The bourbon tours and tastings that followed were, of course, good too, but couldn’t compare to Knob Creek’s Machine Gun Shoot.
I told the planner about it a day later – with a little jab about her failure to check the calendar.
Then, I thanked her for the opportunity she'd provided for me to shine by turning a potential wreck into a great experience like no other.
It was better than any itinerary could have planned for us.
Thanks again, Shannon. I'll never forget the Surprise at Knob Creek.
*NOTE: Knob Creek, which flows west from Bullitt County and starts just a few miles from Jim Beam's main operation at Clermont, is not the namesake for its Knob Creek Bourbon, according to the distillery.
Instead, the whiskey is named for the LaRue County stream where Abe Lincoln spent a bit of his early childhood – at the site of the Lincoln’s Tavern, just outside of Athertonville, Ky. – in a dry county.
Knob Creek Held its last Machine Gun Shoot in 2021, but the range is still open daily.