Monday, May 22, 2017

California all the Way

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Back before I had children, I had a subscription to Food & Wine. I indulged in articles on artisan jams and discussions on varieties of kale and ratings of restaurants I'd never even heard of. And it was from the pages of Food & Wine that I learned of a magical place called the Russian River Valley and that to experience it properly, involved bikes. And I knew, from that moment, that more than anything I, would one day like to go there.

But then we had children and I cancelled the subscription to Food & Wine (because honestly, who has time to read articles debating competing methods of baking blueberry muffins, let alone make them). And so I enmeshed myself in pureeing baby food instead of crafting cheeseboards and comparing local school rankings in lieu of cocktails. And that was fine. Life was really quite lovely and rewarding and everything I ever really wanted and the absence of monthly foodie updates was barely felt.

Except, I still really wanted to go bike in Sonoma. Keep in mind that in the intervening years I've gone skiing in Aspen and Whistler, swam in the ocean, visited Europe and spent a lot of time in Iowa, so it's not as if I've been exactly suffering. But biking in wine country seemed like my great white whale. There was a moment when I was turning 40 that Allen and I discussed taking the trip, but then we were buying a new house and needed to sell our old one and gallivanting around Northern California seemed a little self-indulgent and irresponsible.

But this year, Allen revisited the possibility of going and I jumped at the chance. It's been a really rough year professionally for both of us, and a psychic break from the beltway seemed in order.

So Allen found a tour package, booked our reservations, contacted some friends (who offered both hospitality and some suggested tourist sites) and started buying all the recommended accessories from REI.

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Funny side note: despite the fact that I have longed dreamed of a biking vacation, I don't regularly bike and never for more than five miles. To me, the biking aspect was merely an effective way to transport myself from winery to winery, and to get as close to the banks of the Russian River as possible. That perhaps my fitness level wasn't quite up for this, never occurred to me (and if it did occur to Allen, he diplomatically refrained from vocalizing it).

So on Wednesday, we left the kids with Mom Mom and Grandpa Don and Grandpa Fawcett and Katherine and Lee (because those two really do take a village) and flew to San Francisco where we picked up our rental car and made our way slowly to Healdsburg, CA by way of the Golden Gate checked into our B&B and had a delicious meal (and a lovely Pinot Noir from the Annadel Gap) before crashing.

The next morning, we met up with our tour guide Tac, got fitted for our bikes, and headed out for Dry Creek and a 24 mile tour. Dry Creek is known for its Zinfandels due to their old vines, dry heat and field blending. At our first stop, Zichichi, Tac gave us a nice background about the region and its many appellations and explained the difference between rattle and gopher snakes all while we sampled its signature 2014 Old Vine Zinfandel.  We then headed in for a barrel tasting of some lovely 2016 Zinfandels and Petite Sirahs, which we enjoyed so much we ordered some "futures" and will get to taste it again when they ship it to us, around March 2018.

Next stop was Dry Creek Vineyard, where we talked politics with the locals (I think they felt sorry for us and gave us more generous tastings as a result). We stopped there for lunch, toured a field, and joined the wine club resulting in our purchasing a lovely Sauvingon Blanc for dinner that night, and several other bottles to be shipped (though arriving far sooner than the last vineyard). We stopped at one more winery, Long Board, so named due to its owner's obsession with surfing (and with surf movies that he plays on a loop in the tasting room). But we were both pretty hot and spent and so didn't linger very long, and so we said our good-byes to Tac, went back to our room to shower and nap, and then headed out to dinner.

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The next day we were on our own as we headed to the Russian River Valley -- which being in a valley catches the fog which makes it a cooler climate. Feeling that the 25 mile trip hadn't really challenged us (and convinced that adding an extra loop to the recommended route would only enhance my River experience) we decided to go for the 35 mile trip.

This was a mistake. The day was hotter and the bulk of the extra route was neither pretty nor fun and made for an extremely grumpy Elaine (though I was pretty excited when I actually crossed the Russian River). Finally, 25 miles into it we saw the Moshin Vineyard where they refilled our dwindling water supply, and served us some lovely Roses, Chardonnays, and the region's specialty, Pinot Noirs.

Fortified, we continued on and the rest of the ride was lovely with rolling hills, beautiful vistas, and a perfect final stop at Twomeys where we enjoyed several Pinots on their picturesque balcony, before returning our bikes, heading back to the B&B for nap time, a shower, and dinner before we crashed.

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The next morning, we grabbed a quick bite, bit our farewell to the other guests and hit the road (thankfully in car this time). Allen had planned for us to take the Pacific Coast Highway (and got some helpful suggestions of stops from my friend Laura), but first we headed to Armstrong State Park to check out the Redwoods. From there we headed to Bodega Bay for some lunch and a close up view of the Pacific. We tried to make our way to Muir Woods to compare redwoods, but the park was pretty full and the winding highway was making me nervous, so instead we headed to my friends Laura and Reed's house.

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Laura and Reed were both on the rowing team with me at NU (Laura was my stroke) and Laura was one of my favorite people in college. While she's originally from the Baltimore area, she moved to the west coast after grad school and so we went from staring in each other's eyes for an hour every morning to only seeing each other ever 8 years or so. I tried to introduce her and Reed to Megan and Nabel ever since they moved to the area (I'm convinced they would be best friends if Megan and Nabel hadn't opted for Berkeley instead of San Francisco), but this trip allowed us to finally make the introductions personally as we all gathered at the Mitic-Kelsos for dinner.

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Once we all arrived, Laura immediately took us on a tour of Mount Davidson (site of a pivotal scene I've never watched in Dirty Harry and home to the Armenian Cross) after which we enjoyed some amazing barbeque prepared by Reed, shared a birthday cake for Laura and I, and talked a lot of politics before finally crashing and heading home the next morning.

It was kind of an amazing trip -- culmination of weird dream, seeing old friends, and getting to spend several days just basking in the beauty of various micro-climates with the person you love most. And now, back to real life.

(To see all the pictures, please click here.)

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