A slow day nonetheless. Taking advantage of the day's grinding pace, Mondo gave me a quickie lesson on our new flatbed, the International. Exagerated gears, a single strap seat belt, a stearing wheel the size of a mid-sized car tire and 20 feet behind the cab to haul ripe grapes. By far the biggest beast I have driven to date as I seemingly inch further and further towards getting behind a three axled big rig. World, are you ready for me?
Punctuating the afternoon's activities was a trip (for the second day in a row) to Renard, a mid-sized winery outside St. Helena. Apparently there was a bit of mis-communication and when I dropped 2 tons of Viognier yesterday I was also meant to pick up some empties. So back up and over the hill I went on Petrified Forest Road, ascending once again into the picturesque Napa Valley appelation and welcomed but again by the boisterous sign just south of Calistoga that reads "Welcome to the World Famous Winegrowing Region Napa Valley."
By the time you reach the sing, you begin to realize that Napa is at least ten degrees warmer than Russian River and the sooner you get back over the hill the more comfortable you will be. And I am once again happy I live and work in Sonoma.
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From dropping Macro bins I moved onto domestic goods as I swung by Jan's flat to drop a love seat. On my way over I happened upon a couple crust punks, quite possibly travelers but most likely locals; each holding a leash with their own toy mutt dog parading up front. Since when did the punks take an interest in toy dogs. Apparently thrashing to Oi Pollio alongside your shitzu is the latest trend. I'm baffled.
And that reminds me: Tomorrow...Bottom of the Hill...Dillinger Four!!! Hook or Crook be there or besquare. Fly in if you have to for Christ's sake!
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