Despite months of crazy weather, it's finally springtime in the vineyard. And after all the hours of planning and research and all the work that went into getting the vineyard ready for planting vines – not to mention the planting itself – I was pretty bummed about not getting to see the early fruits of our labor this weekend. My wife, Chris, ably assisted by daughter Kate, the vineyard volunteer worker, traveled to Afton without me this weekend to un-hill new vines, continue the work on the deer fence, and handle a dozen other tasks that demand attention in the spring.
So, this isn’t exactly an eyes-on report from the scene. It’s more like something cobbled together by an editor hunkered down in a newsroom, piecing together a story out of dispatches sent in by reporters from the front lines. I've been both a reporter and an editor in my life, and believe me, being a reporter is way more fun. Editors sit behind desks in newsrooms waiting for reporters to tell them what’s going on. When I was an editor, I generally got cranky while waiting. Reporters get out of the office and see things happen. Even in the day of Blackberries and instant communication, I'm sure they still keep editors at bay during the day by telling them there’s way too much going on to stop and talk. And they’re usually right.
In this case, Chris and Kate filed their dispatches by text messages, emailed pictures, and a number of old-fashioned cell-phone calls, all of which provided some color on the early progress our vines are making. I have to say, we’re just thrilled with the results. Out of the 150 vines we planted this spring, only one appears to be clearly dead, according to the reports I've received, although another ten are doubtful. But the rest look magnificent! (Especially in the pictures.)
I’m particularly pleased with the progress of the first group of Cabernet Franc vines that we transplanted from our Fairfax vineyard two weeks ago. They not only survived, but they’re flourishing. And they have fruit! Big clusters of berries that will turn into grapes very soon if we leave them on the vine. Which, of course, we won’t. Even if the vines hadn’t been through the shock of being dug up in Fairfax and replanted in Afton, they’re still only in their second year of life, and they needto devote all of their energy to developing a strong root system and trunk. So we’ll be dropping the fruit soon.
We had planted seven Cab Franc vines in Fairfax a year ago, all for the purpose of getting additional hands-on experience working with vines. This weekend, Chris dug up the last three and moved them, so the Fairfax “vineyard” is officially defunct, although it lives on in spirit in Nelson County. We can’t be sure that all seven will make it, but we’re very hopeful.
In any event, I'm glad we tried this experiment, which was prompted by an article by WineMaker’s magazine’s Wes Hagen. He recommended ordering extra vines and planting the excess closely together on some spare land. That way, you have some surplus vines to replace the ones that inevitably will die. And that’s one of the sad facts of viticulture. No matter how good you are, no matter how carefully you plant, and no matter how great the nursery you buy from, you’re going to lose some plants. So, even though some of the 50 Cab Franc vines that we planted this year will surely die, with the additional one-year old vines Fairfax we should end up ahead of the game. Wish I had read the Wes Hagen advice before we ordered vines for planting this year.
Looking at the rest of the vinyeard, our whites are doing quite well. We planted 25 each of Petit Manseng and Viognier on the weekend of March 31, and mounded hills of earth over them, covering the graft union with about two inches of soil to protect the dormant vines from the possibility of late frost. We un-hilled them two weekends ago on May 6, and they have been doing quite well ever since.
Likewise, the reds are showing great promise. Chris and Kate un-hilled the 100 Cab Franc and Petit Verdot vines that we planted over three days in early April. Both grapes seem to do well in Virginia, and we are wildly optimistic about their potential. Which, of course, puts us in the company of farmers everywhere who start each spring full of optimism, no matter how bad the previous year went. And don’t get anyone started talking about the 2011 vintage. Trust me, just don’t.
By the way, the un-hilling I did two weeks ago involved a lot of careful work with my hands, but it was positively crude compared to Chris’s method. I pushed the dirt aside a little bit at a time, until the vine was completely uncovered. Okay, maybe a spare bud or two got knocked off in the process.
Chris would have none of that. She bought a makeup brush for the final removal of soil from the vines, and claims it worked like a charm. I wasn’t there, so I’ll take her word for it. It seems like a pretty time-consuming approach, so I’m pretty confident that I’ll do my part of the un-hilling next year sans the makeup brush. Unless of course the vines she un-hilled do better than mine. Let’s not even go there, okay?
And there’s still so much work to be done. I think I’m recovering well enough from surgery that I’ll be able to be in Afton myself for the next trip. Chris and Kate have gotten to be quite the dedicated and skilled vineyard workers, handling everything from driving posts into the ground to planting vines. I’d sure like to be able to lend a hand. Or at least be there to watch with great enthusiasm while they do the work