Harvest Musings

battle scars

As yet another memorable harvest draws to a close, I delight in sharing some of the bizarre things that have crept into my exhausted mind over the last couple of months.  It can be a grind at times, so pulling back the curtain a bit to reveal some of the lighter moments keeps me from taking it too seriously.

While conducting a final cull of rotten berries in our original planting of Pinot Noir early in September, I found myself uttering a few choice words at these cursedly tight clusters.  It culminated in a rather aggressive flick attempt with my clippers to remove a rotten berry which, in turn, produced a wild spray of acidic juice directly into my face.  This moment surely sums up the give and take relationship I have with these old vines, a relationship that began to take human form.

In fact, as I wiped the burning juice from my eyes, I surmised that these five rows are like the brother I never had.  We are of similar age (although I am slightly older and wiser) and we have grown up on this farm together.  We compete for my parents’ attention and can get very jealous of one another, yet our individual success is completely reliant upon the other.  There are epic fights, but if anyone else is critical of my Pinot vines – I’ll kick their ass.  We always have each other’s back because our tangled roots run ever deep in this soil.

While pacing around the barn on a weekend that saw a forecasted 15-20mm of rain balloon to a record 86mm, I realized just how tied to the weather my mood becomes during harvest.  A rainy day may as well be the end of the world in my mind.  Everything is planned around them, you can’t do anything during them, and nothing good ever comes as a result of them!  I become consumed with regrets:  Should we have picked earlier? Did I just ruin everything good I’ve done all year by letting them hang through a hail storm?  How long will this field take to dry out?

Conversely, when the sun is shining – so am I.  Strutting around the farm with a wide smile and time enough for everyone, I ooze positivity.  It doesn’t get any better than walking through a block of ripe, clean grapes knowing you could pick them whenever you like.  I taste each berry thoroughly and make a mental note of which vines and rows will make the cut this year.  As you are probably aware, this happens with extreme rarity.

More often I’m faced with a scenario akin to the following:  We finish pressing Pinot Noir and I finally have a chance to get out and take a good look at the Riesling.  I walk over to the block and think to myself, “Ahh, the patience of Riesling…I can leave them to the end every year and they never let me down!”

It only takes few minutes to realize I’ve waited WAY to long to thin out these vines and now I’ve got a tinderbox of Botrytis on my hands.  I flash back to those times during the year when I’d walk by the Riesling and pay them but a fleeting glance before moving on to more pressing concerns.  Perhaps I knew deep down that the day of reckoning would come soon enough.

It is reminiscent of a scene from Pee-Wee’s Big Adventure where Pee-Wee is faced with saving all the pets from a burning pet store.  Of course he saves the cute puppies and bunnies first, each time running past the terrarium of snakes with a look of terror that I know all too well.  The scene ends with a hysterical Pee-Wee running out of the store with fistfuls of snakes and collapsing to the ground.

Before I know it I’m covered in a sticky lather of sweat and juice, hurriedly extricating botrytized clusters of Riesling with my bare hands and high-stepping to the end of the row to hurl them into the headlands…

Crazy, you say?

I know you are, but what am I.    (P.W. Herman 1985)

 

 

 

 

For the Robin in all of us

 

They are not the most captivating of birds.  No one has ever said, “Look at the beautiful Robin, dear!”  Up close they look even homelier.  I discovered this while thinning Syrah today and abruptly coming face to face with two baby Robins, nestled smack dab in the middle of my vine.

Robins are utilitarian worm hunters.  They don’t grace the logo of any sports teams as far as I know – the more popular Blue Jays, Orioles and Cardinals dominate this category.  Even the famous “Boy Wonder” was a trusty sidekick at best.  You don’t even really notice them until they are looking you directly in the eye.  Is this their vine or is it mine?

I make the decision to leave this vine a little “fuller” than I’d like, but any further removal of shoots would compromise their foundation.  The obsessive side of me makes a mental note to return to this particular vine later in summer.

Upon further reflection, I feel it appropriate to anoint the unassuming Robin as the official bird of Lowrey Vineyards.  Far from flashy, a little rough around the edges, somehow lurking under the radar while in plain sight and then BAM! – Holy Syrah, Batman – all of a sudden we’re right under your nose.

Syrah Babies

Inspiration

I find it very easy to put off writing when faced with a multitude of vineyard jobs and the constant opportunity to chat with friendly visitors.  Interesting topics float in and out of my brain as I squat to carefully tie up the precious suckers offered by winter-ravaged vines of Sauvignon Blanc, but putting wine-stained finger to keyboard seems a chore at the end of a long day.

So why do I feel all charged up tonight?  It’s got to be that vineyard green!  There is something about the vigour exhibited by grapevines growing in June that gets my blood flowing.  Vines that seemed all but dead months ago now brim with green shoots to the point of needing a good thin.  I can barely keep up with the growth, but the vines are ahead of schedule and into bloom a full week earlier than the last couple of years.  Even the deluge of early June rain can’t dampen my enthusiasm!  Anticipation outweighs setback at this stage, as the inevitable diseases have yet to rear their ugly spores (talk to me in a week and I’ll likely be singing a different tune).

There are exceptions – sobering reminders of the harsh winter and a catastrophic worst case scenario that was all too close to becoming reality.  Perhaps that is what makes those rare fruit-bearing vines so inspiring.  Syrah, Pinot Gris and Sauv Blanc will all likely be 50-75% down in crop level, but thankfully the majority of vines are still alive and throwing suckers.  Sourcing fruit from those varieties will be a challenge for all Ontario wineries this vintage.

My current glee could also be traced to a rainy day racking session earlier this week.  I was able to get an intimate look at all 2013 and 2014 reds as I siphoned them out of and then back into their cosy oak homes.  Some of them were a little unhappy to see me so early, but most were WAY more polished than I anticipated (insert huge exhale here).

It reinforces what I’ve been hearing from visitors to our barn this year: each of our wines has their own distinct personality, and those differences make them interesting and enjoyable.  It’s not about vintages being “better” or “worse” than one anther, but rather entirely unique upon comparison.  That is an exciting prospect when you find yourself worrying that future wines won’t stack up to the current crowd pleasers.  One excited taster recently proclaimed he’d never met a Five Rows wine he didn’t enjoy.  The fact that he was my Dad shouldn’t really matter.  Tainted praise is still praise to hungry ears.

 

 

 

 

New Wines and Tag Lines

 

Each year I struggle to come up with original descriptors for our wines.  Each varietal is crafted to best express our terroir, therefore they tend to fit a similar style from vintage to vintage.  Tasting notes can sometimes sound like a broken record, so I usually try to make them more story-based.

This year I’ve tried to come up with a phrase or two that might best represent my feelings towards each wine.  Keep in mind that I am usually testing the wines when these ideas spring my mind.  Here are a few samples from my notebook:

2012 Pinot Noir:  Enjoying the many complex layers exhibited by this wine magically erases the emotional scars of growing Pinot Noir.  Maybe it’s the resveratrol.

2014 Pinot Gris:  Drinking this wine can lead to moments of spontaneous joy and irrational behaviour, like agreeing to adopt a third cat.  Drink with caution.

2014 Riesling:  This wine is my wife’s favourite, but sadly alcohol makes her sick.  Although not sick enough to stop wanting more cats.

2012 Syrah:  This wine reminds me why we take the risk to grow Syrah in Ontario.  Two rough winters in a row have shaken my conviction at times.

2012 Cabernet Sauvignon:  This wine makes me envious of people who grow grapes in California. Not because it’s easier to ripen Cab Sauv there and every year is like 2012, but because they get to live in California!

2014 Sauvignon Blanc:  This wine helps cure writer’s block*

*claim pending 

 

For slightly more serious tasting notes click here

Glorious Mud

 

Being stuck in the mud never felt so good.  The usual nuisance of “sinking while pruning” seems a welcome hindrance this year.  My smile widens with each heavy step and I can’t help thinking that “thaw” is a beautiful word.

There are many things that signal spring to my internal body clock: bottling new wines, the smell of melted wax and new cardboard, writers cramp, bud counts, the Masters, muddy paws and baseball.  Together, they form a complex emotional mix of stress (bottling and dead buds) and thrilling relief (tasting the new wines and the promise of golf season).

April 2nd was my own personal vernal equinox this year, as we bottled all of our new wines (830 cases!) without a hitch.  It represents the culmination of three years of work for the 2012 reds and a year for the 2014 whites.  Big thanks to all of my helpers, from the case fillers to the bottle dumpers to the humble stackers.  I’ve said it before, but my biggest advice to someone starting a mini craft winery like ours would be to find a reliable mobile bottling line.  Glenn, Randy and Justin from Hunter Bottling make my life easy on bottling day.  The new truck is amazing!

Those who’ve joined our contact list will receive an email in the coming weeks with details of the new release.  Our goal is to re-open the barn by May 1st and I can’t wait for everyone to try the new wines!

Good to the last drop!

 

 

On Pruning

Most people will never have the opportunity to spend a bitter winter day pruning their way down a row of grapes, so I feel it my duty to inform the masses about this crucial vineyard task.

Every winter, around the beginning of January, my father and I start to get serious about pruning vines in preparation of our next growing season.  There is usually a little tire-kicking before we summon enough motivation to begin in earnest, but eventually there is no more time to dawdle.  I liken it to that feeling of being comfortable on your couch on a cold day, but knowing you have get up and go to the gym at some point.

The last couple of years have been particularly challenging due to the severe low temperatures and deep snow.  The simple act of walking out to the vineyard becomes a production.  It goes without saying that proper attire is a must – warm boots and gloves, multiple layers and keeping the wind at your back are keys to stamina.  The ‘pruners’ themselves must be well-oiled and sharp (this applies to both physical tool and person).

Sometimes when I’m donning my gear, I summon my inner Han Solo and pretend I’m setting out over the snowy landscape of Hoth, charged with the duty of finding Luke Skywalker and returning him to the Rebel base.  This scene from The Empire Strikes Back is as vivid as perhaps any from my childhood, and serves as the catalyst to get me out of the barn and on my way.

As with all vineyard jobs, every vine must be evaluated individually before the cuts can be made.  The goal is to whittle it down to four “perfect” canes with roughly ten buds apiece.  They must be oriented in such a way that two of them can be tied down in opposite directions along the fruiting wire in the spring (the other two are left untied for insurance).  On passing glace it may seem that adjacent vines are very uniform, but this is not the case.  There are many subtle differences that must be accounted for:  cane diameter, bud spacing, wood density, bud viability, trunk health and residual disease.  Leaving the wrong canes can negatively impact the future success of that vine.  An experienced pruner can evaluate these variables and make decision cuts in a matter of seconds, spending little more than a minute cleaning up each vine.  The anticipation of finding those four perfectly situated canes appeals to my love of solving puzzles.

You eventually settle into a pleasing rhythm of cutting and removing unwanted wood and before you know it you are halfway down the row.  Decisions become innate and you are left alone with your thoughts.  Welcome distractions like music or talk radio can make time fly, but I caution that waning concentration can be very dangerous.  The daydreaming pruner can easily whip themselves in the face with an errant cane (painful and embarrassing), deeply cut a finger (most farmers have done this) or become prey to an overly aggressive coyote (perhaps not as common).

Often I use this time to mentally prepare for the winery jobs at hand.  Should I blend a little 2013 with those 2012’s?  Do I have enough tank space to rack and blend all my Pinot Noir barrels at once?  Is it a good idea to cold stabilize my whites while they are on bentonite?  Conveniently, it provides a leisurely way to tackle and think through logistical hurdles.

As the day wears on, it becomes increasingly critical not to let your weak mind slip into thinking about how cold you are becoming, or about the potential implications if all these buds are indeed fried, or if the vine you are pruning might already be dead due to the -23C temperatures sustained last night…

At times like this I usually hop on my trusty Tauntaun and ride back to the Rebel base.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Treadwell Double Bill

Do you have any plans for the evenings of January 10th or February 7th?  I’m hoping that nothing immediately pops to mind and you have the chance to join us at our annual Treadwell Winemaker’s Dinner.  These nights have been such a blast over the years that we’ve decided to tack on an encore gig in 2015.  Truthfully, the demand for tickets last year caught us a little off guard and we didn’t want to leave anybody out.

The dinners will feature some tantalizing Treadwell dishes paired with our 2011 reds and 2013 whites.  I will have to brush up on my knowledge of these wines, as they’ve not been present in our barn for quite a while.  I could certainly wax poetic about the freshly fermented 2014 Cab Sauv, but you probably wouldn’t want to drink that one right now.  Perhaps I will just wait until the night of the first dinner and we can discover how the wines have evolved together.  It’s always more fun to tell old farm stories than bore you with technical wine jargon anyway.

Please visit the Treadwell website for details or call James at 905-934-9797 to book your seat.  We hope to see you there!

Cheers to A Successful Season!

My first experiences with the marathon that is a winery-based harvest came at Blomidon Estate in Nova Scotia, then later back in Ontario at Creekside.  I was completely unprepared for the long haul that loomed ahead.

Prior to Blomidon I was only familiar with the limited perspective of the grape grower.  When the crop was off, your job was done!  I was ignorant to the efforts that went into processing and fermenting our freshly picked fruit.  My early days in Nova Scotia taught me that it was far more difficult being responsible for the combined task of growing the grapes and making the wine.  Despite the initial ass-kicking, I somehow rationalized starting my own winery just a few years later.

I took much of what I learned at Blomidon and applied it at Five Rows.  As a smaller producer than most, I concede we have it easy compared to the big guys, and that is partly by design.  Our collection of varietals lends itself to a nice even picking schedule, with a bit of a break mid-harvest.  While everyone else is taking in Chardonnay and Merlot, we usually have the time to finish up pressing Pinot Noir and begin preparation for Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon.

Each vintage is it’s own beast, a grueling battle with much reward at the end.  Days seem to go on forever early in September then rapidly get shorter as the season draws to a close.  The evening feast is the shining beacon at the end of each day and beer becomes your religion.

Then rather abruptly, like a wall of lake effect snow, it’s all over and you are left wondering what to do with yourself.  You are conditioned to getting up and hitting the ground running, now there is actually time for reflection and leisure.  The daily caffeine and adrenalin rush is no longer required, but can be hard to ween yourself from.

Mostly you try to get back to a normal life.  Your significant other barely remembers who you are and rightfully expects you to make up for three months of being absent and tired.  So now is the time to give back.

This year I spent my first day of “freedom” raking leaves in the snow, walking the dogs and picking up groceries…and enjoying every minute of it!

The End is Near

So it all comes down to this.  November is upon us and all grapes are off, save the few robust rows Cabernet Sauvignon we’ve chosen to hang until the bitter end.

They desperately cling to their yellowing leaves as the last few rays of fall sunshine hopefully find enough green chlorophyll pigments to move the ripeness needle just a bit further in our favour.  They are likely ripe enough to pick, but they are also clean enough to hang until all the foliage has been exhausted.  Every tick of extra sugar and reduction in total acidity is a welcome bonus at this stage.

It is the exact scene I anticipated earlier in the Spring as all varietals got off to a sluggish start.  We knew we would be pushing the limits to make quality wine – we had no other choice.  The thought of hand-harvesting in the bitter, damp cold of November is intimidating, but when you are so close to the end of a long season, motivation seems easier to summon and these days can actually prove to be glorious!

The most harrowing part of this waiting game is the relentless nature of the birds.  They are wiser and more brazen by this time in the season, blatantly ignoring bird-bangers and finding creative ways to circumvent our seemingly impenetrable nets.  The only true deterrent is a crazed farmer willing to spend the entire day riding around in his vehicle of choice, unleashing whatever unholy racket he can muster.  They will undoubtedly have nightmares about what these frustrating flocks are doing to their grapes, it is what drives them to be up at the crack of dawn to do it all over again.

2014 Harvest Update

 

What a luxury it was to be given a dry stretch of days to harvest all of our early varietals.  I don’t recall a ripening period this ideal in all the years I’ve made wine.

Fall picking decisions are usually based upon rotten fruit and looming rain in the forecast.  We weren’t entirely spared the former, but the lack of the latter allowed us to delay harvest dates until all the important parameters reached absolute perfection.  Warm days to drive photosynthesis and accumulate sugar, and cool nights to maintain acidity and control fruit flies.  I actually felt a bit greedy leaving some of our fruit on the vine as long as we did, but this rare ripening window was just too tempting not to take advantage of.

The Pinot Noir fermentations smell absolutely splendid!  The Pinot Gris and Sauvignon Blanc were allowed to hang long enough to develop the most wonderful flavours to go with the desired sugar and acidity levels.  As expected, crop levels were light, but the fact we had any fruit to harvest this vintage is a victory in itself.

It appears as if this little run of nice weather might be coming to an end, but I will not soon forget the exquisite fall scene of 2014.

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