Grey Hairs and Split Ends
Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it. Worth it meaning coming to California, embarking on a crazy adventure to learn the finer aspects of enology and viticulture. Taking on a position as a vineyard technician (with no formal education) that has in all honesty begun to consume my life. There are nights when I wake up in a dead sleep thinking about automatic valves malfunctioning or the chaotic schedule of events to come.
Even more I think about my lifestyle. Am I living healthy? Being on the run ten hours a day, mostly behind the wheel and coming home exhausted everyday. Skipping breakfast, eating lunch on the fly (mostly, again, behind the wheel) and whipping up a quick fix dinner consumed around 9 pm. Is this life? Maybe I can't cope with the American lifestyle hellbent on consumption and working your ass of to get by. Not to say I don't have all the amenities of life. Overall I never have to think about going hungry or not having enough cash to get by.
But sometimes I do want to escape, maybe to Europe, however impossible. I want a thirty-five hour workweek and a couple glasses of wine for lunch. Or maybe Chile, the slow relaxing pace might lower my skyrocketing bloodpressure. Better yet I could abandon it all, bury my car and live the life of a traveling hobo, thirties style, quenching my thirst for knowledge and travel with countless hours in public libraries and waiting to catch out of yards for days on end.
These are a few of the thoughts that race through my head every day whether I am stuck in sweltering traffic or coping with another meltdown.
This year might be best be characterized by grey hairs and split ends. Grey hairs from stress and split ends from innability to visity my local barber.
***
The Immaculate Irrigation
Sunday, my only day off, was no different. Burrying my work phone in my car the night before I uncovered it this morning to see a missed call and voicemail. Not good. Dave, the mastermind behind day to day operations had called. Another bad sign. I called and left a message wondering what could have possibly gone wrong.
Halfway through cooking my over-eazies the phone rings again and I pick up. My day off mind you. Apparently the winemaker had visited the vineayard and saw moist dirt below his hanging ducks. Standard protocol is to refrain from irrigating at least a week prior to irrigating as not to plumpen grapes and lower sugar levels. After all who wants to pay added money for watered down grapes that weight more.
Halfway through cooking my over-eazies the phone rings again and I pick up. My day off mind you. Apparently the winemaker had visited the vineayard and saw moist dirt below his hanging ducks. Standard protocol is to refrain from irrigating at least a week prior to irrigating as not to plumpen grapes and lower sugar levels. After all who wants to pay added money for watered down grapes that weight more.
We already recieved one ass chewing on Saturday morning when an irrigation cycle was forgot about on block one. I couldn't believe that after I double and triple checked a valve could have miraculously turned on once again. The immaculate irrigation? I was destined to find out.
Flustered and shaking I put down my phone and threw on my cap, jammed the key in the ignition and sped off in la tortuga and a break neak pace. Upset by my careless beheavior she whinied and groaned as we cut up the 101.
A half hour later I was walking vine rows in my chacos and faded, ragged Lemuria cut off, crossing my fingers that no valves clicked open. Blocks six and seven were saturated but that was from a cycle earlier in the week, but no water was emitted the night before.
Calmer (how calm?) I called the winemaker direct and explained the situation. We amicably agreed to disagree but things were worked out. The pick will go on and I lost a hunk of my day off. I'm not gonna cry over spilled milk. Not yet at least.
***
Sweet and Slender Relaxation
If the afternoon was to balance the morning I need to do a whole lot of nothing which was successfuly carried to fruition on the banks of the Russian River. As the kiddies played on thier new floaties I curled up with a series of excerpts from an interview with longtime Ridge winemaker Paul Draper. Before today I was ignorant as to the practice and benefits of submerged fermentation. Keeping the cap submerged with a grate? Genius! Especially for a weekend warrior winemaker.
You learn a new thing or two everyday.
Fun Wow!
Guerneville: Russian River's Little Cancun
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