1997 No. 1

Dear Faithful Subscribers:

Well what is one to do with a BA in English, other than teach or write the great American novel? Having done both of those, the Artist-in-Residence tried his hand, or, more appropriately, his back, working in the Babcock Winery during the 1996 crush. The Artist-in-Residence is convinced he could be a winemaker; the only problem is neither he nor The Vigneron has the $1.2 million necessary to convert the hay barn into a 10,000 case winery. But sometimes Bacchus acts in mysterious ways.

Over Christmas Jeff N. called The Vigneron with the bad news that he would no longer be able to take care of Clos Pepe. Jeff N.’s other vineyard commitments were too pressing, Clos Pepe was not near any of them and the travel time was just too much. Fortunately, Ramon, our vineyard foreman, has worked with Jeff N. at Clos Pepe and some of Jeff N.’s other vineyards for the last two years and he is more than able to handle the day-to-day maintenance of the vineyard. The Vigneron fervently hopes that, having planted the Chardonnay vineyard, kept a detailed vineyard diary, and promptly paid all the suppliers’ bills, he will be able to handle the planting of the Pinot Noir vineyard in 1998. All that is really necessary in the meantime is someone on site to order materials and services, follow up with the suppliers and spot potential difficulties before they become major problems. The Artist-in-Residence said "No big deal, I can take care of it. I’ll get up to speed — read some books, The Vigneron and I are taking three UC Davis extension courses this Spring — and with Ramon it’ll be a piece of cake." Ah youth! muttered The Vigneron. L’Agent was thrilled that her son would have a real job. The Vigneron, although worried about his retirement, reluctantly agreed, subject to finding a real viticulturist who would agree to consult. Fortunately, John K., the vineyardist for the Babcock Winery, has agreed to consult and supervise the Artist-in-Resident cum "Clos Pepe Viticulturist" — his words, not The Vigneron’s.

While this minor trauma was going on, The Vigneron, with the help of the Artist-in-Residence-cum-Clos-Pepe- Viticulturist has reached an agreement with Bryan Babcock by which his winery will take 1/3 of Clos Pepe’s Chardonnay for the next three years. The Vigneron is now working on selling the remaining 2/3 of the Chardonnay vineyard.

It is the quiet time in the vineyard. The grapevines are in their dormant stage ready for pruning. The Vigneron spent several days, really mornings, helping Ramon prune. It is relatively simple but at his advanced age and with a bad back, The Vigneron can only last for three to four hours — and then thank God for Tylenol. The Vigneron described his legs as feeling like the first day of football practice except that due to the intervening 35 years, the body does not bounce back as quickly as it did.

We are pruning one year old vines, which means selecting the best cane and either bringing it up the stake or, if it’s not vigorous enough, cutting it back to two buds. We try to guide the biggest and healthiest cane up the stake. Unfortunately, grapevines are like people, they don’t always grow in the right direction. Then one must choose between the most vigorous cane that’s growing the wrong direction and the second most vigorous cane which happens to be growing in the right direction. Then there are vines on which the canes are all growing sideways and there is no right choice, only the least wrong choice.

One advantage of bending over, stooping or kneeling to prune several hundred vines in a couple of hours is that one comes to appreciate the diversity and peculiarity of grapevines. Another advantage of getting out in the fields and meeting the vines up close and personal is that you can quickly assess the health of the plants. The Vigneron so far has only pruned some of the Dijon clone and the Davis 4 clone. The Dijon clone is more vigorous and prolific than the Davis 4. Apparently, this doesn’t mean much — the failure rate for both is about the same — 2% — which is quite good. We have 500 extra vines in the nursery at the back of the Clos which will be transplanted in the Spring of 1997.

Most vineyardists ignore the weeds after the harvest and they grow quite profusely. Then, in January, they spray between the vines with an herbicide, then wait a week or two until the weeds are dead. The Vigneron found this to be a distasteful prospect, mainly because while pruning he observed the wide range of insect life that the vineyard supports, such as ladybugs. It just didn’t seem right to spray these folks with poison. So the Vigneron decided to resolve this dilemma by adopting the old-fashioned method of hoeing the weeds. Once the space between the vines is hoed, the space between the rows is disced and planted with a cover crop of rye legumes and clover which can be periodically mowed.

Each morning while at the vineyard, The Vigneron hoes several rows. He would hoe longer, but 30-plus years of pushing papers has left his hands much too soft and gloves only provide limited help. Besides, The callouses The Vigneron acquired while pruning are not in the right place for hoeing. Similarly, The Vigneron’s back and leg muscles, strengthened by pruning, are not of much help for hoeing, which requires strength in the upper arms. So, after about two to three rows, The Vigneron has to call it a day.

The hoe is truly a wondrous simple instrument. If the blade is filed to a sharp edge and the correct angle is used, it makes short work of most weeds. It parts the soil like the bow of a ship through water and neatly severs the weeds at their roots. However, when the hoeing is not done regularly and the weeds grow to three to four feet high, as they have at the Clos, the hoe has to be used to chop the thick roots; this has led The Vigneron to an acutely personal understanding of the phrase "a hard row to hoe."

While some might think hoeing is boring and tedious work, The Vigneron finds it quite satisfying. There is the immediate gratification of seeing a row of grape vines obscured by weeds turned into a clean and clear two foot strip of soil with the grape vines very visible. The Vigneron knows all about boring and tedious work — it is responding to interrogatories and requests for admissions with answers that are not answers and which no one bothers to read because, while verbose, they say nothing — now that’s boring and tedious.

While The Vigneron is hoeing, Bud resumes his intermittent mission of ridding the Clos of its subterranean animal life. The Vigneron cannot tell whether it is the ground squirrels, rabbits or gophers Bud is after. Bud’s method is long on enthusiasm and effort and short on results. He starts by sniffing the ground — usually where The Vigneron has just

hoed — and when he finds a promising smell he sticks his nose into the dirt and comes up snorting. If he thinks he’s on the trail of a critter, he starts digging furiously in an undignified style that throws the soil directly into his crotch. After several minutes of effort, which usually results in a hole 10 to 15 inches deep, he stops digging and sticks his nose into the deepest part of the hole. If the smell is promising, he continues digging furiously. On one occasion, Bud became so caught up in his work that he went down two to three feet; before he realized it, his front quarters were wedged into his excavation and his hind quarters had lost the necessary leverage to pull the rest of him out. After some whining and yelping he caught The Vigneron’s attention and was pulled out of the hole, which was promptly filled. As usual, these blows to his dignity left Bud undaunted; a minute or two later he smelled something further down the row and commenced digging a new hole.

So far, despite over a score of holes in the vineyard, Bud’s digging is for naught. Perhaps there is a future for him with the guys digging the L.A. subway. In the meantime, the Vigneron sometimes wonders who is doing more damage to the vineyard, the gophers or Bud.

After four decades of being the leading, largest, oldest and only winery in Long Beach, Chateau Guadagnini will cease operations in that city. Frank G. and Rosemary have just finished building their retirement home in Palm Springs and their Long Beach house is now for sale. Apparently, the homeowners’ CC&Rs prohibit wineries in Palm Springs, so Frank G. has decided to relocate Chateau Guadagnini to Clos Pepe in the Santa Ynez Valley.

An aside to this story: While the about-to-be-described move was occurring, Frank G. sought cheap (read free) legal advice from The Vigneron about his concern that the $100,000 one-time house sale exemption was not enough to cover the appreciation in value of his Long Beach home during the last several decades. Frank G. suggested that he and Rosemary get divorced and each would get the $100,000 exemption and they could then get remarried. The Vigneron counseled Frank G. that he surely would be incarcerated for this scheme and that they don’t serve wine in jail. Frank G. muttered something about getting what you pay for.

Moving the winery equipment — a half dozen barrels, the crusher-destemmer and the corker — was easy. The problem is moving Frank G.’s wine cellar. Like all wine makers, Frank G. never made a bad bottle of wine — just some that were better than others. He drank the better ones and has left the others alone, hoping that Bacchus would work his magic and transform them into something better than they are. Consequently, Frank has four decades of Roses, Ports, Cabernets, Zinfandels and who knows what else stored under his Long Beach house and must decide what to do with it. He rejected out of hand The Vigneron’s suggestion that the vinegar barrel might be appropriate. Frank mused that perhaps he could offset some of the gain from the sale of his house by donating his wine to the church for sacramental use and taking a tax deduction. The Vigneron commented, "Well, don’t try the Presbyterians, — they will know it’s not grape juice — and the Episcopalians would probably spit it out!!

L’Agent has remarked that grapevines are beautiful between May and September, but for the rest of the year they are just sticks — not at all aesthetically pleasing. At Clos Pepe South she cured this problem, if the reader can believe such presumption, by underplanting the grapevines with crawling rosemary and geraniums. In the interest of domestic tranquility, The Vigneron has not protested, at least not outwardly.

At Clos Pepe North, even L’Agent recognized that she could not underplant 18,256 vines. Moreover, such extensive underplanting would reduce the vineyard’s production and even L’Agent must bow to economic reality at some point. So what to do??

Last spring L’Agent resolved this crisis in a blaze of creativity. We were visiting our friends, the Elliotts, at their weekend condo in Anacortas, Washington. On the way we stopped at the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival. It is breathtaking to see scores of acres of tulips in all colors of the rainbow and equally extensive displays of daffodils in six different varieties. While gazing at this magnificent sight L’Agent suddenly shrieked "Voila!" — we will plant tulips and daffodils around the house and porch and plant roses on the end posts and along the fence by the highway. So poor Ramon ended up planting several hundred tulip and daffodil bulbs plus 150 St. Joseph’s Coat bare-root roses. Additionally, Ramon transplanted the road by the stable another 35 rose bushes of various varieties that the previous owners had planted. The Vigneron has not quite yet figured out how he can justify the tulips and roses to the IRS. Perhaps he had better seek advice from Frank G.’s new lawyer.

Thus, while it is unclear if Clos Pepe can grow decent grapes, it will definitely be the prettiest vineyard in the valley and perhaps roses, tulips and daffodils (sounds like a song) will become the cash crop! However, L’Agent has vowed that she will not man (or even "woman") the roadside stand.

Ralph Kunkee, a retired viticultural professor emeritus of U.C. Davis, E-mailed The Vigneron and suggested he sign up for Davis’ three-day short course on varietal wine grape growing. The Vigneron assumed Ralph was getting tired of The Vigneron’s pestering him with grape growing questions during the L.A. County Fair, where both annually sit as wine judges. (Actually, the E-mail came to The Vigneron’s secretary because, while physically present in the 20th century, The Vigneron remains mentally in the 18th century and E-mail is beyond The Vigneron’s capabilities. As a matter of fact, The Vigneron is technologically challenged by touch-tone telephones.)

The Vigneron had his secretary E-mail Davis for an application. He received an E-mail back saying that there were more applicants than they could handle; sorry, try again next year. The Vigneron then discreetly dropped Ralph Kunkee’s name. Apparently, it landed with a thump because the application arrived the next day and The Vigneron promptly enrolled both himself and the Artist-in-Residence in the three-day course. In light of the unwelcome Christmas surprise that The Vigneron was to receive from Jeff N. (see supra page 1), this turned out to be fortuitous good timing.

So on a Sunday evening at the end of January The Vigneron and the Artist-in-Residence set off from the Clos on the 5-hour drive to Davis in the vineyard truck, emblazoned with Clos Pepe’s logo and its " ME VINO" license plate. The CD player alternated between The Grateful Dead and Bach. Near the end of the 5 hours the CD player gave up the ghost, giving rise to a still-ongoing debate between The Vigneron and the Artist-in-Residence about whose music caused its early demise.

When the odd couple showed up for the course, the hall was packed. The University had not lied about the course being oversubscribed; 200 attendees showed up for a course scheduled for 160, and there were another 250 on the waiting list. The course started with the physiology of grapevines, then moved on to vineyard selection, soil analysis, root and clonal selection, planting the vineyard, irrigation, pruning (which consisted of a half-day field trip to the UC Davis demonstration vineyard), cultivating the vineyard, mechanical harvesting, plant diseases and plant pests. After three intense days of hearing about all the problems that can occur in growing grapes, The Vigneron started to think that maybe he should be planting corn. The Vigneron also missed about 1/3 of the course because he was on the telephone taking care of his day job. It is somewhat surrealistic to be immersed in trying to figure out what type of roots and clones to plant in 1998, knowing that you will not know whether the decision was right or wrong until about the year 2010, while at the same time clients are sending faxes that must be responded to as soon as they are received, if not before.

Meanwhile, the Artist-in-Residence was absorbing the course like a filter pad. Most of his effort was spent in learning "viticulture speak" — he now refers to grapevines as "cultivars" and words like "Petiole" (the spot where the leaf stalk attaches to the shoot) and "Xylem" (where cells store water) roll effortlessly off his tongue. He can debate the impact of the stomata on transpiration with the best of them. The Vigneron is waiting to see if mastery of the vocabulary can be translated into growing great grapes.

Well dear friends, time to close and to get back to hoeing.

Cathy, Steve and Bud

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