Winter is coming to California
When I lived in the Green Mountains of Vermont the summers were long and warm but there was always a day—a particular moment, actually—when unexpectedly the air let you know that winter wasn’t far off.
It could have been in October, a lovely afternoon except that, suddenly, the leaves on the maples rustle and a chill hits the skin. There might be many weeks of Indian Summer to come, but the reminder is timely: Old Man Winter is coming.
In coastal California, the sign is subtler, but it’s there, and I felt it yesterday. I don’t think I’ve put on long pants for the last 5 or 6 months, nor have I often needed any outerware like a hoodie, except maybe when walking Gus early in the morning; but yesterday, it was long pants and a flannel shirt all day. It wasn’t particularly cold by Eastern standards: the high was around 65 degrees. But we Californians have thinner blood than those hardy New Englanders, and even 65 can feel cold, if you’re in a shadowed place with wind. You can feel the icebergs in the Aleutians. Winter is coming to us, too.
It’s been an incredible spring, weather-wise. The upside for us humans has been six months of dry, mild-to-warm-to-hot weather (at least here in Oakland), with very little fog–clear evidence of a changing climate. There were many, many days when I thought no place on Earth could have better weather than what we were having in Oakland. The downside, of course, has been the Fires and the resultant smoke (I capitalize “Fires” because of their historical import: 4 million acres burned so far—five times the size of Rhode Island, and more than double the previous record). The damage has been appalling. In Napa alone, 31 wineries, restaurants (including Meadowood) and resorts up in smoke.
As an old wine journalist whose stomping ground was Napa Valley, this makes me very sad. Some very famous names are gone. The arrival of cool weather is welcome news to the firefighters. There have been weather forecasts the last few days about possible rain this weekend, but I just checked the latest weather reports and they’re backing off, saying only that it will be partly cloudy. There is a storm up there in the Pacific Northwest, but its southern edge will reach down only to around Eureka, near the Oregon border—a classic weather pattern for this time of year. We’re going to have to wait a bit longer for the first rains in six months to hit Northern California. It will warm up again next week, but fortunately, nowhere near the triple digits that inland areas have experienced this summer and autumn.
For all the grief in Napa Valley—and it’s substantial—there’s also a lot of optimism. Many of those people have money and will rebuild. The vineyards that burned will take longer to restore, of course, but they’ll come back eventually. One should keep in mind that Old Europe’s wine country, from Bordeaux and Burgundy and Champagne to the German regions, have experienced 1,000 years of wars, plagues, plant diseases and economic collapses, but no matter how tough things get, those regions have survived and, most of the time, thrived. This isn’t to underplay the disaster of the Fires, but only to put things into perspective. Napa Valley, and Sonoma too (which was less affected this year) will get by, and rise again.
And from the consumer’s point of view (and that’s what I am, a consumer), the Fires might have the desired effect of lower prices on wine. I’ve never understood how a bottle of Napa Valley Cabernet could be $300 or even higher in many cases. When hundred-dollar Cabs became numerous in the 1990s, I scratched my head and wondered how it had happened. But wine pricing is one of the most irrational economic phenomena in the world. It’s completely based on supply and demand, not inherent quality; and wine’s appeal is as much to the ego and the imagination as it is to the senses. People lust after certain wines, which then become “first growths,” and their prices soar accordingly. People who can no longer afford them settle for the second most expensive, and those are the “second growths,” and so on, down the line. Thus are wine hierarchies, like Bordeaux’s, created. But as a reading of Penning-Rowsell’s “The Wines of Bordeaux,” with its price charts over the centuries, attests, prices go up rapidly and fall equally rapidly, in a cycle as dependable as the West Coast’s weather patterns.
And now—not to mix topics—on to the Election! Vote! And vote Blue. We mus stop this crazed, dangerous president and the religious fanatics who prop him up.
Steve writes:
“I’ve never understood how a bottle of Napa Valley Cabernet could be $300 or even higher in many cases. When hundred-dollar Cabs became numerous in the 1990s, I scratched my head and wondered how it had happened. But wine pricing is one of the most irrational economic phenomena in the world. It’s completely based on supply and demand, not inherent quality; and wine’s appeal is as much to the ego and the imagination as it is to the senses.”
Be more concerned about so many contemporary wines priced above $100.
Excerpt from the Wine Spectator (November 15, 2019) cover story titled “California Cabernet Sauvignon: Napa’s Stunning 2016 Vintage.”
URL: [not available]
“Sticker shock remains a problem for Napa Cabernet lovers, however. Of the wines in this [nearly 600 submissions Cabernets Sauvignons and blends] report, more than 50% cost more than $100 per bottle. That trend is here to stay . . .”
It is not uncommon for proud and strong-willed winery owners to “benchmark” their wine against their neighbors in the AVA or across the Valley. Decide their quality is “equal,” and demand a similar selling price.
But their neighbors may have been in business for decades, perhaps even for human generations, building their brands into name recognition.
The arrivistes who came to Napa Valley with Silicon Valley or Wall Street wealth “thought” the lessons learned outside of the wine industry would translate to the wine industry.
They learned otherwise, and are losing money vintage after vintage. Some can afford the “burn rate”; others quietly exit.
“The greater fool theory” prevails.
To the observation “Many of those people [who suffered wildfire losses] have money and will rebuild,” I would say better they should have insurance to cover their losses.
The larger question is: do they have the resilience to rebuild?
“When I lived in the Green Mountains of Vermont the summers were long and warm but there was always a day—a particular moment, actually—when unexpectedly the air let you know that winter wasn’t far off.”
Steve, I think your fond memories of Vermont summers may be a little off. Warm, yes, but I don’t know about long. Same here in Maine. But I do know exactly what you mean about the day when all of a sudden it’s clear that the weather has changed and winter is not far off.
As for California wines, I long ago abandoned California wines for France and Italy. Partly it was price, but also a change in my tastes. But one wine I’ve kept my fondness for is Zinfandel. Unfortunately, most of the ones available here that I’ve tried are very disappointing. But not Dry Creek. I recently has their newest vintage (newest here at least), the 2017, and it was spectacular. Somehow the Stare family has kept their prices reasonable.
And as for you last paragraph — wholeheartedly agreed.
Bob Rossi, I guess everything’s relative. Given our cool summers here in the Bay Area (although they’re not as cool as they used to be), my memories of New England summers are that they were long and hot. You’re probably right that they weren’t as long as I recall. For example, we grew potatoes, and the rule was that you couldn’t harvest potatoes until the first freeze had come. I believe we harvested in late September. Of course, Indian Summer could arrive and extend the warm weather into October or November. Still, those New England summers live in my mind as idyllic.
Summer here in Maine often seems idyllic also (not this year, though; it was hotter and more humid than usual). I think I can measure the true length of summer here by how many cases of rose we go through.