Got Wood?

I'll tell you what we have:  we have rabbits ignoring our highly specialized, tactically deployed, Amazon-rated, and well-researched snakes.  Not only do they mock us, those pesky rabbits, but they sun themselves, belly-up and sprawled out, only a mere six inches from the ferocious, fanged rubber viper strategically placed between the sage bush and the basil.  Little bastards.

Garden varmint drama aside, this summer we've already been able to get out and hike a bit without that whole "packing up and moving house" drama we had last summer.  It's been nice to just shut off the cell phone and go out into the woods or canyons where cell phones don't work anyway. 

 Last month we headed west to the Colorado National Monument to hike each morning, and drink each afternoon, tasting our way around wineries on the Western Slope.  I could live a large chunk of my life that way: mornings on the trail and the afternoons in the cellars; snapping pictures of strange bentwood trees in the cool early hours, and sampling from bentwood barrels in the even cooler underbellies of wine estates late into the day.  And I have to touch it - the wood - tracing the lines of the ghostly trees and the soft curves of barrique with my fingers.  Since nothing out there was tourist-infested yet, we had the trails, tasting rooms, and, often, the winemakers all to ourselves.

The philosophy of winemaking was what I was after.  While Colorado is not knowing for being a fabulous wine region, I've recently discovered that there are producers here in Colorado taking their grape-growing and wine-production to task in terms of expressing Colorado in a glass.  Some wine makers are exploiting what grows well with respect to their water table and microclimates: Cabernet Franc and Petite Verdot, for example, grow well in some areas and by working with these and other Bordeaux varietal wines they seem to be trying to discover, if not define, the terroir - with minimal intervention.  At least that was my take-away.

 About seven wineries into our trip, one winemaker burst my "Colorado in a wine glass" bubble and told me that Cab Franc and Petit Verdot were "taking the easy way out" and "dumbing down the wine industry."  The opposite of the "terroirist", this gentleman believes in going against the grain of the Western Slope trends.  Should Cab Franc ever fall out of favor, he believes his craftsmanship and artistry is what will remain.  He does this through yeasts, reduction, and even oxidative practices.  My face fell ... manipulation of wine and bottled fun juice was not what I was after, which is why I steer clear of a certain "winery" on the other side of town.  Yet, he was kind, probably crazier than me, and generous with his knowledge and wine barrels.

Back home I unloaded the five cases we collected from nearly a dozen wineries and wondered if I would ever be able to get the hang of this "sense of place" thing when it comes to wine.  I can study, blind taste, and sniff, swirl, sniff and spit again, but what I'm swallowing is time flying by faster than I can stuff more wine knowledge and taste profiles in my aging brain.  The good news?  I enjoy it.  I enjoy it all - until I need another day out in the woods.

This past Sunday we hiked up Raspberry Mountain, stopping to take pictures of these Calypso Orchids.  I find them to be a bit sassy (which is why I like them).

My handsome man has taught me the art of macro photography which keeps me occupied with his old camera while he captures the good stuff.  (See the good stuff - his work - here: https://www.facebook.com/coloradophotobug?fref=ts His website is currently under construction, but do "like" his page and show him some love!)


Not long after getting tired of orchids muggin' for the camera I went back to the wood.  Handsome man was barreling back down the trail, on a mission for some craft beer and wood-fired pizza, post hike; but I kept stopping to take pictures of weird wood.

Obviously I have a thing for wood - wood floors, wine barrels, twisted trees (dead, alive, who cares?!), wood-fired pizza, being out in the woods, and a hankering for one of those carved wooden bears for our front porch.  Hey - maybe even a ferocious wooden bear for the backyard garden to scare off the cocky rabbits!?

Maybe it's a Feng Shui thing, maybe it's a Freud thing.  What I do know is:  tonight it's a French Limousin Oak thing ... otherwise known as a 15-year single malt Scotch thing.

Peace, love, and splinters.