PINOT

I fell in love with Pinot Noir in 1999 as a 20-year-old when I had the opportunity to work at a Pinot tasting. The bottle that did it, I believe, was a '96 Domaine Serene Evenstad Reserve.  At the time, I was working at a Massachusetts wine shop.  I was a beer drinker back then and hadn't drank a whole lot of wine.  I knew I liked Cabernet, although I still didn't have the appreciation for it that I do today --around that same time, some friends and I guzzled a '94 Heitz Martha's Vineyard right out of the bottle without a clue of what we were drinking.

At the tasting, there were many different Pinots being poured.  Wines from California, Burgundy and Oregon.  As I recall, the OR Pinots really surprised a lot of people.  I remember being a little surprised by the fact that they actually made wine in Oregon.  One of my brothers had recently moved there but I was clueless about the state being a producer of this fine grape - or any grapes for that matter.  The memory of that first sip of the Dom. Serene is still so clear to me today.  I knew I wanted more of this wine.

Then reality set in the next day back at the shop when I looked at the price tags on the Pinots we carried. The CA and OR labels were steep, and the Burgundy was absolutely outrageous.  What 20-year-old could afford this stuff?  So I put a bottle aside for myself, saved my pennies for a few weeks and finally bought it.  I'm pretty sure I popped and drank it as soon as I got home - and, man, was it perfect!  That was the only bottle of that particular wine that I purchased.

Pinot Noir vines at Archery Summit

Fast-forward to today.  I am now lucky enough to live in Oregon, and also lucky to have a wife that loves Pinot as well.  We make several trips to Willamette Valley a year and get to taste a lot of outstanding wines right at the source.  My love for Pinot Noir continues to put a dent in my wallet.  With each sip of this great juice, I still think it's worth it.

My first apartment in my new town was close to the best wine store around.  I quickly bought (and quickly drank) several bottles from the top shelf of the Pinot rack - Archery Summit, Dom. Serene, Panther Creek, Domaine Drouhin.  For some reason, I've always tended to stick to OR Pinots.  Maybe I'm just a homer.  When I drank Archery Summit for the first time I thought "WOW! Now this is Pinot Noir!"  We have since joined their mailing list and cannot resist the fine wines they continue to produce, even in the poorest of vintages.  There are, however, a plethora of great producers around, and we have much to explore in future visits to wine country.


At the end of the day, a great bottle of wine made from this great grape is as good as it gets, in my opinion.  One that is well made has everything, and can be paired with just about any food.  I crave it.  I always want more.  A lot has changed in my life over the past 12 or so years.  I've come a long way since that young dumb kid, and I'm pretty positive I've had many better bottles of wine than that '96 Domaine Serene.  But that will always be etched in my memory as the one that hooked me.  Cheers!

Cold Is The Water

12/2010:
I head down the trail looking at myself, thinking I look like I'm about to rob a bank.  Dressed in black: jacket, gloves, glasses and hat.  At least I remembered my jacket this time.  And gloves.


Trudging through snow, ice, mud.  When it's snow, it sticks to the boots and builds up.  When it's ice, I'm likely to fall on my ass with the lack of traction.  When it's mud, well, I'm even more likely to fall on my ass!  There's a strange wheel of thoughts turning in my head.  My eyes turn to the river.  This beautiful, big flow of water holding some amazing fish.  I'm on a mission to get to this one run, knowing that I won't be the first one to cast there.  But I am confident, and hopeful as I play my game of placing the vehicles in the parking lot with the fishermen I pass on my trek.


Among the spinning in my mind, first and foremost, is the anticipation of my future little fishing buddy on the way.  Already imagining the days when I can bring my son to these rivers and show him what I know in this sport.  He'll be a lucky boy to grow up fishing these waters that I have come to know and love.  Each river holds some very special memories for me.  And I can remember the friends that shared those particular days with me.  I can recall the events as if they just happened yesterday. 

That was a couple months ago.  Haven't been fishing since.  My little buddy is now with us, and he is the light of my life.  Now the visions of the future are stronger, and more real.  I hope he grows up with an appreciation for the beautiful natural world that surrounds him.


Now my hands aren't used so much for tying flies and knots, but more for holding bottles and changing poopy diapers.  I remember how proud I was, standing in the North Umpqua river alone, holding my first Steelhead.  That fish was big, about 12 pounds.  But not nearly as proud as I was when I held my greatest catch of all for the first time.  All 8 pounds 10 ounces of him.


My 70-day fishing years are now gone and that's quite okay.  Maybe I'll cherish each day I get to spend on the water even more.