Old House Vineyards

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Culpeper, Virginia.  July 2015.

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When you and I were forever wild

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Wine and ride

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Sometimes one little planning oversight can derail your plans in the most wonderful of ways.  While we were in Sonoma, the Mister had put together a romantic day of biking from vineyard to vineyard, picking a few local gems that didn’t require reservations so we could linger if we felt like it or follow any detour that took our fancy.  Scribe Winery came highly recommended and we excitedly biked up their dusty gravel path, passing rows and rows of lush green vines.  When we approached the hostess, we were dismayed to learn that we’d misread the website: reservations were required and they were all booked up for the day.

We were out of breath from our ride, and I think the hostess took pity on us, offering a cool, generous pour of their Estate Reisling, and a Pendelton blanket to spread out in the grass and relax for a while.  We found a perfect shady spot on the hillside that looked out on the valley, and soon after the hostess sent over an icy carafe of water and a board of peaches, nuts, cheese, and olives.  As we sipped on the reisling, I looked at the Mister and proposed that we buy a bottle and stay on that hillside.  So for the next few hours we did just that.

It was cool and breezy in the shade, and it was a lovely change to get to know one good bottle of wine at it’s vineyard instead of a rushed sampling of five or six.  Partway through the bottle, I looked up and recognized an old friend from grad school, teaching her little daughter to roll down the hillside.  Laughing, we called out each others names and were so happy to get to meet the families we’d each built in the time since we’d last seen each other.

No amount of planning could have led to a vineyard visit quite like this, and I’m hopeful that this sort of happy mistake finds me a little more often.

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