California – Wine Country
Eastwards now, away from the coast and up into wine country and our first camp with Harvest Host. This is a network of farms, wineries, breweries, museums across the United States and Canada that allow campers to book an overnight stay. Worryingly, the road again rose to dizzying heights in a series of nerve-wracking loops – each tighter than the last. Surely ’round the next bend we’d start to descend . . . nope, still going up. Remembering the overheating brakes last time, I was somewhat concerned – we were higher than before. However, worry not, the downward side was long and gentle. Phew!
Our stop for the night was Mia Bea Winery in the beautiful Mendocino valley. https://miabeawines.com/about Started over a hundred years ago by the son of an Italian immigrant and his Mexican-born Dutch wife . . . now run by their three daughters. Chris had been so helpful to us long before we arrived – with endless suggestions of where to camp, eat and visit. It was like meeting family when we actually got to visit face to face. And what a setting! Surrounded by vineyards of Chardonay, Petite Sirah and newly planted Pinot Noir grapes. The folded, grass covered hills silhouetted in the background against the setting sun. A table with welcome sign, visitors book and cookies just for us!
All wine tastings should be like this one. Received a text to say they were all set up whenever we were ready. Glen grabbed a lantern, although there was plenty of light from the half moon, and we walked the tractor-rutted lane to the campfire and circle of chairs. A mirror-smooth lake reflected the deep blue sky, a chorus of frogs serenaded us as the fire crackled and we sipped — first, fruity, tangy smooth Chardonnay not overpowered by oak barrels . . . then the aromatic, blackberry-rich/dark chocolate Petite Syrah. Delicious. Chris’ sister Cyndi and husband Mike joined us and we chatted like old friends till just the embers glowed. And in case you’re wondering, we did make it safely back down the lane with hardly a stumble!
Another gorgeous morning . . . birds singing . . . wisps of smoke drifted along the lush, green hills. Chris and other sister Lori delivered the bottles of wine we’d ordered – they’d be busy today spreading the tons and tons of fertilizer over the rows of vines. We’ve been invited back anytime . . . nice to know.
South now – towards Freemont where friends have a house. They are in BC right now but offered us a place to park (use their house too, but we won’t). Avoiding the freeways as much as possible we took the 128 . . . down through the Sonoma Valley . . . much larger wineries now. Wait . . . what was that? An enormous Wart Hog made of rusted metal at Soda Rock. Pulled over and walked back for a photo. Amazing detail. Although the vines aren’t in leaf, the rows are filled with drifts of snow-white daisies and tall primrose-yellow mustard . . . cherry trees and flowering quince are in bloom . . . and even a host or two of daffodils.
Stopped for lunch at Smoke House Union 707 . . . the aroma greeted us before we pulled over. Smoked Pork Loin on a crispy bun and homemade coleslaw. Glad we only ordered one – it was huge. Succulent, tender pork . . . . just the right amount of smoke and salt . . . and the perfect BBQ dipping sauce. No shortage of good food on the trip so far.
Much busier in the Napa Valley – more upscale too. People taking advantage of the hot weekend temperatures. Highways widened into ten lanes (5 each way) . . . and I thought the I-5 was bumpy . . . . hardly dared to look in the trailer . . . I’m sure there’ll be stuff everywhere. Thank goodness for Miss Google – highway access is abysmal when changing from one to another . . . outer lanes pealing off willy-nilly . . . underpasses that look like dead ends. Glad Glen was driving. Light was fading as we pulled into Niles (near Freemont) where our friends live. Oh oh. Their house was at the end of a quiet, residential street, as we expected . . . and with plenty of space to park out front . . . . but no place for a truck and trailer to turn around. Glen pulled off a magnificent 3-point-turn . . . backing into a tiny driveway opposite . . . squeezing between a parked truck and the substantial telephone pole before lining up along the curb on the other side. Me of little faith! I honestly didn’t think he’d make it. I bet neighbours were anxiously peeking from behind curtains. Dinner tonight at Brocho Billy’s Pizza Palace – true wild west style. Niles is where some of the very first movies were made – with Broncho Billy, Charlie Chaplin, etc. Hope we can visit the museum.
