It has been a long while since we last wrote, and to be honest, we’ve felt a need for silence over much of the last year. I think maybe it’s just super hard to talk when you have a lump in your throat, you know? But there really is so much to catch up on.
Thank You. Sincerely.
This fall we released our first wine, the 2018 “Manteo-Nason” red blend, and you all received it with such warmth and enthusiasm that we were a bit taken aback. Thank you. We are proud of that wine, and think it’s great tasting, but we love that the majority of folks who took a chance on it had no idea how it tasted. You all saw people who were farming their hearts out, and you took a chance that the wine would taste good — or you just wanted to support our dreams, hard work, and ambition. Either way, you made our decade and inspired us to press forward with redoubled enthusiasm.
When It Damn Well Feels Like It
The 2019 vintage has been in a bottle for a few months now, and we think it’s a stunner — an aromatic, rich, concentrated and endlessly structured wine, emblematic of the uninterrupted dry and warm weather that stretched from July through October. But here’s the catch: it needs time to age.
The Here and Now
So far, 2021 has been a leisurely stroll, with a late bud break, no hard frosts, and cool dry weather punctuated by the occasional 3-day heat wave and/or thunderstorm. The vines have caught up from their slow start, and have surged into June. Bloom started out scary, with rainy weather forecasted, but we snagged a handful of dry, bright and warm days right when it was most needed. All told, it looks like the vines will set an ample crop. From June through early July our team will up the intensity of our labors, touching every vine many times, tending the canopy, and keeping the new clusters bathed in light and air. This is the time for focus.
Inside the canopy: this year’s crop getting a little sunbath at the beginning stages of bloom.
In the Meantime
There are big plantings, and there are big ideas, and there are small plantings when you have … big ideas. We did all three this year.
The big planting of Cabernet Sauvignon planned for this spring went off without a hitch. The Sammy Smith Vineyard is now a reality: 2/3 of an acre of rocky, tractor clenching slopes just a 50 yard walk through the woods from our original vineyard site. This site really is something else, and while literally only a stone’s throw away, it is more geologically diverse than our existing blocks, and has some wicked winds blowing through it. Just the kind of place we wanted to explore the big idea that seized us in 2018: focus on understanding the potential of Cabernet Sauvignon with a diversity of clones on a range of unique but related hillside soils: we’ll pour you a sip in 2026.
The small planting we made this year was Petit Manseng. We love some of the Petit Manseng wines coming out of Virginia and wanted to see how it responds to our site. So in a few years, we will see how it deals with the late frosts and early heat waves, and we’ll fiddle around with some experimental wines. With a little luck and a lot of intention, we’ll have something interesting to share.
Impermanence, Acceptance, and Forever (and that’s a mighty long time)
Whether it’s a new big planting, a new small planting, or tasting the first wine from a recent planting, putting new vines in the ground is a heady and humbling experience. On an uncultivated plot of land, the journey from concept to commercial red wine release is a 7-year process (at minimum), so patience is a must. Planting is also an acceptance of the impermanence of our existence, in that the grapes and wine from this plot will most certainly outlive us if we farm them right — they’ve already outlived some of our family, and friends (both 2 and 4 legged). We’ve only got one go at this, and we’re going to make the most of it. Thanks for sharing this journey with us.