The Road to Chapline Distillery

By Caleb Rhoades

Chapline Distillery roadside sign beneath a live oak, with a Texas Whiskey Trail marker and small cannon.

There are some distilleries you visit because you've heard they make great whiskey.

Then there are places like Chapline Distillery, where you leave remembering the people just as much as what was in your glass.

The drive from Austin is part of the experience. The city slowly gives way to winding Hill Country roads lined with ranches and Live Oaks. Traffic lights become scarce, the pace slows down, and eventually a small sign on a country road catches your attention. It's the kind of sign you're thankful to see because, had you been looking the other direction for just a moment, you might have driven right past it.

Pulling into the parking lot, you're greeted by a grove of sprawling Live Oak trees shading a handful of picnic tables. On the afternoon I visited, a local musician was playing on a small stage while the unmistakable aroma of smoked barbecue drifted over from a food truck tucked along the edge of the property. It already felt less like arriving at a business and more like showing up at a neighborhood gathering.

Then you notice the tasting room.

From the outside, it looks more like a well-kept doublewide home than a traditional distillery. A matching building sits nearby, likely serving as the barrel house, while a fenced enclosure between the two has somehow become home to a flock of geese that seem perfectly content with the arrangement.

Before we even made it to the front door, the owner, Mike Chapline, welcomed us with a smile from the porch. He was enjoying a cigar, listening to the live music, and chatting with visitors as though he'd invited everyone over to his house for the afternoon. There was no rush, no sales pitch, and certainly no air of self-importance. Just genuine Texas hospitality.

Stepping inside only reinforced that feeling.

Behind the bar sits the working distillery itself, with the stills in full view as cocktails are mixed just a few feet away. The room is filled with reminders of Mike's previous career serving aboard nuclear-powered submarines in the U.S. Navy. Navy memorabilia lines the walls, particularly pieces honoring the submarine service, while a soccer match played quietly on a television overhead. A small honor-system snack box sat nearby for anyone feeling hungry, and for guests who don't drink whiskey, there was wine and beer available as well. It felt comfortable. Lived in. Like a place designed for people to spend an afternoon rather than simply stop in for a tasting.

Instead of ordering a tasting flight, I opted for a neat pour of one of Chapline's latest special releases along with an Old Fashioned.

I'll admit, I'm a bit particular about Old Fashioneds.

Too often they're rushed, overloaded with fruit, or turned into something entirely different. This one wasn't. It was balanced, thoughtfully prepared, and made with the kind of care that tells you someone behind the bar actually appreciates the classic for what it is. Sometimes it's the little things that tell you the most about a place.

As the afternoon went on, another detail became impossible to ignore.

Many of the people there clearly weren't first-time visitors.

Groups of neighbors gathered around the tables, catching up on the week's events, laughing, and giving each other a hard time. I learned this happens nearly every Saturday. They come for the live music, stay for the conversation, often enjoy whatever meal Mike has decided to cook that weekend—whether it's his homemade chili and cornbread or another simple comfort food—and many head home with a bottle or two tucked under their arm.

It wasn't difficult to understand why.

I noticed a chessboard inside the tasting room and another oversized chess set waiting beneath the Live Oaks outside. Whether Mike is an avid chess player or not, I never thought to ask, but it felt fitting somehow. Nothing here seemed accidental. There was a quiet personality woven throughout the property that didn't demand your attention, yet rewarded you for noticing.

Mike once told me he started Chapline Distillery because he wanted to make bourbon his way.

After retiring from the Navy, where he worked as an engineer aboard nuclear submarines, he turned that same methodical mindset toward whiskey. Chapline releases only single-barrel bourbons, many of them named after notable Navy ships and submarines. It's a personal touch that reflects his story without ever feeling forced.

In fact, after I told one of my neighbors—a fellow Navy veteran—about Chapline, he made the trip himself. He came back talking less about the bourbon than he did about the people. He'd found exactly what I'd experienced: a place that made him feel welcome.

As I drove back toward Austin, I realized something.

Texas has a reputation for friendly people, and deservedly so. But what I found at Chapline went a little deeper than that. It wasn't friendliness for the sake of hospitality. It was a community of people who genuinely seemed to enjoy spending time together.

That's not something you can manufacture with polished branding or expensive architecture.

Chapline Distillery may be known for its single-barrel bourbons, but I suspect that's only part of the reason people keep coming back. Long after the music fades and the glasses are empty, it's the feeling of belonging that lingers.

And that's a pretty good reason to take the long way through the Texas Hill Country.

Planning Your Visit

If you're looking for a polished, high-volume distillery experience, Chapline probably isn't trying to be that.

If you're looking for a relaxed afternoon with good company, live music, a thoughtfully made Old Fashioned, and a chance to meet the man behind the still, it's well worth the drive through the Hill Country.