The ground springs underfoot as you step down a vineyard row, indicating healthy, un-compacted soil. Our conversation drifted back and forth from the technical (clones, rootstocks, mechanical weed cultivation, compost, pruning) to the philosophical. Terry likes to say that his strongest argument for farming organically is “because people live here.”

Of course I had to ride my bike out for the visit, to challenge my “intimate knowledge of the land” hypothesis. Unfortunately, this meant riding through a thick cloud of putrid lime-sulfur spray as I passed one of the orchards about a half-mile down the road, so it was a relief to breathe the clean higher-elevation air at Upper Five. My conveyance also created an unexpected limitation when Terry gave me a bottle of Grochau Cellars 2008 Sauvignon blanc, made from Upper Five grapes.

Anyone who has bike toured in wine country knows that a tall, narrow claret-style bottle slips easily into one’s water bottle cage with little more than a mild rattle as one rolls along, yet this bottle resisted the standard approach. My first attempt at securing my gift proved ineffective, as I was only just out of the dirt driveway when the bottle leapt out and clattered down the road. The results were nearly disastrous:

I figured out a better, albeit precarious, way to hold the damaged bottle, and made my way home against a headwind. It has always been my contention that wine tastes better when enjoyed close to its source, and this particular bottle enjoys the distinction of literally touching the ground from which it came. I will give it a week to recover from its rough treatment before sampling, and will report back on how the wine fared.

What does this have to do with winemaking? It happens to be my personal philosophy that winemakers should make wines only from vineyards they can readily visit by bicycle. This is my “intimate knowledge of the land” principle and is by no means practiced by myself alone, except maybe for the bicycling part. Walking is fine, too, but in the Rogue Valley our vineyards don’t neighbor one another as closely as in some more established regions, so I use a bike whenever possible. Besides, it’s fun.

This bike has a history. The deep wine-colored frame was originally custom built for Sherman Lamb in the early 1980s by Roland Della Santa, who was also busy at the time building frames for Greg Lemond, who was busy becoming the first American to win the Tour de France. Sherman, who was one of the first winegrowers in the Rogue Valley to plant Syrah, sold the bike to his friend Randy Gold a couple of years ago, but it was the wrong size for Randy so he stepped up to a brand new Felt road bike late last summer. Out of curiosity or desire I measured the frame when Randy said he was going to sell it, and voila! A frame custom sized for me.

Randy, of course, is the owner and manager of Gold Vineyard in Talent, from which all grapes for Velocity and Velo wines (and even my new white wine project – more later) are now sourced. How many bicycles can claim such a viticultural pedigree?

My wife, Julia, was kind enough to listen to my irrational explanations for having two bicycles, and presented the new bike on Christmas with a red bow around the handlebars. Thank you, Roland, Sherman, Randy, and Julia. I will try to be a worthy owner of such a machine.

I did get out for a quick ride when some sun broke through after Christmas. It rides like a thoroughbred, or as I imagine one must ride. Lucky me!