My apologies to the bard. The North Fork Valley is badly in need of moisture. The 2025 grape growing season in the North Fork Valley is trending hot and dry. Understandably, the “dry” part of that equation might be difficult for eastern flatland lubbers to grasp, especially with the wet start to the season along Colorado’s Front Range.
Alas, it’s my favorite time of year. An unveiling of my 2024 vineyard lessons learned! This is my second such unveiling, as it is the vineyard’s second season with grapes. In some ways, the year was less dramatic and fraught than last year. Only because I was following last year’s advice.
Summer is an eventful season in the vineyard. While its tribulations can be burdensome, you always come away with new insights. I’ve learned about vine flower shatter, leafhoppers, vine root growth, and how my daily vineyard schedule is not unlike my grandfather’s farm routine.
2020 was a year of upheaval and change for everyone. For me, it began a journey of working towards my life encore. COVID-19 freed me from in-person work requirements. The evolving more flexible dynamic supported a transition from city to rural living, enabling me to pursue my passion to grow grapes and make wine.
Spring enlivens the soul. There is something magical about witnessing brown give way to green. Of the landscape awakening. Warmer and longer days. Breezes that don’t chill you to the bone. There is no truer expression of spring than grape vine bud break.
Have you ever wondered how the climates of Colorado’s AVAs stack up with other well-known wine-growing regions in the U.S., if not the world? I have. Yes, you can talk with knowledgeable Colorado wine folks, read a few books, and dabble with general descriptions and illustrations online.
I have a Doctorate from the University of Hard Knocks. You read up on new subject matter and spend time learning from those more knowledgeable than you. But the wealth of information means little—oh sure, you can do well conversing about the topic at cocktail parties—till you are knocked around attempting new things yourself.
Fall was upon us, and with it the harvest. Summer hadn’t completely loosened its grip. Temps were mild but unfortunately, the Yellow Jackets originating in August still ruled the roost. While I harvested a small amount of my Pinot Noir in September, the Riesling and the valley’s bounty was yet to come. And come it did.
The month of August ended with a Yellow Jacket apocalypse but September began with hope. The vines were doing great and summer’s heat had waned. Was harvest on the horizon? Did the viticultural gods still have a few tricks to play? Answers to both were not far off.
There aren’t many American Viticultural Areas (AVAs) with wine events providing the level of intimacy, information, and scenery available as the West Elks Wine Trail. Sponsored by the West Elks AVA, the opportunity to visit up to 10 wineries providing a wide breadth of offerings over a three-day weekend couldn’t be passed up.
Vineyard tending took a few days off in early July due to a long Independence Day weekend and family visits. Covered in June’s Chronicles, the previous month was filled with keeping vines pruned and growing vertically, and remaining abreast of insects and critters determined to ruin my day.
Not unlike two weeks in May when away from the vineyard due to grandparenting duties, we were also away the first three weeks of June visiting family in New England, and tending to out-of-town needs. Leaving my three-year-old tilled and pruned vineyard we came back to overgrown vines with weeds taking over.
