By way of explaining just how we ended up at Sky Vineyards, we’re going to revisit a particularly cherished time in our lives – when we were mountain folks.
When we first got back from working harvest in New Zealand, we landed back in Sonoma without a proper home for ourselves (Emily, Cody, and puppy Kinley). Cody was about to start work at one of our dream-unicorn wineries, Bedrock Wine Co., and in one of the many examples of the indelible Peterson family generosity, Joel was kind enough to let us stay in his pool house for as long as we needed. Despite the great fun we had during those few weeks (daily glass of champagne on the patio? Count us in.), we were anxious and ready to settle down in our own home and begin building a life in Sonoma. Perhaps not surprisingly, it was hard to find a place to rent in Sonoma that allowed dogs, especially considering our desire to find something other than the typical small apartments we’d come to know so well.
But after a blissful time at Joel’s, we found a Craigslist ad that sounded intriguing, for a small place off Trinity Road in the Mayacamas Mountains outside Glen Ellen. The listing read (and we’re pretty sure this is nearly verbatim): “Three bedroom mountain house. No growing weed. Dogs okay, woof.”
Given the dearth of options, and considering our terror of having Kinley anywhere near Joel’s beautiful rose bushes, we jumped at the opportunity to live in such a beautiful, if remote, setting. And so began our life on the mountain. We moved uphill, 1000 feet above Sonoma Valley and what felt like a world away from town, and quickly fell head over heels in love with our home in the forest. The house had neither central heat nor air conditioning, but had a stone fireplace in the living room and a beautiful old wood stove in the dining room that kept the whole house… well, mostly warm, until you woke up the next morning and put your feet down on the freezing cold hardwood floors. The yard was just a clearing in the midst of a grove of towering Douglas fir trees, within earshot of Stuart Creek, which sounded like a freight train during winter rainstorms, if you could hear it at all over the wind howling through the tree canopies and the tree trunks bending and creaking under the stress. In the summer, we left the door open from our bedroom to the balcony patio, so that Kinley could sleep under the stars. Which also meant that we occasionally had bats swoop in and out of our bedroom (I’m still not sure how Emily let us get away with that one).
Having fallen in love with life in the Mayacamas Mountains, we also found an amazing community of neighbors on the mountain. Our first neighbor was a chef at the Glen Ellen Star, who quickly became a dear friend, a benevolent bestower of late-night pizza and ice cream, a friend to Kinley on days we left him at home, and captain of our raised bed gardens (we love you, Louis!). I started serving on the board of the Mayacamas Volunteer Fire Department, which acted as a gateway to various mountain social events. And, most pertinently for our current purposes, Chris Cottrell (our Bedrock consigliere and dear friend) introduced us to the Olds family – Lore, plus Amy, and his daughters Maya and Skyla, plus various assorted kin and friends who were treated like kin. They lived at the top of Mt. Veeder, off Cavedale Road, with a view from the driveway all the way across San Pablo Bay, and a view from their kitchen window of the back blocks at Mayacamas Vineyards.
Lore worked as the assistant winemaker at Mayacamas for a number of years in the late 70s and early 80s, and in 1972 he purchased his own land just past Lake Bob and down the rocky, rugged Skylacamas Highway (it’s a private fire road that connects Mayacamas and Sky). He quickly planted vineyards, with the first block of Zinfandel planted in the mid slope in 1973. A winery was built, which miraculously still stands to this day – it was spared during the 2017 fire certainly by Providence, and perhaps by its proximity to the creek. Lore built a house, and the vineyard grew, as did Lore’s family, all largely without electricity until the girls were out of elementary school.
Until the most recent round of re-planting, all of the blocks were established head-trained and dry-farmed, which is beyond mind boggling. Lore prefers to prune almost everything back to one bud per cane, for the sake of vine longevity and to keep arms from cracking off, with no mind given to the 50% reduction in yield from pruning away the second bud. The family does almost all of the vineyard work themselves, aided usually by an unruly cohort of family and friends, all pulled into the wake of the Olds family and the siren song of Sky Vineyards.
All of which makes our last dinner at the family’s old house, the weekend before the 2017 fire, that much more tragic. Amy cooked, we drank a gorgeous bottle of 1989 Sky Vineyards Zinfandel (among the great old California wines I’ve had, from Em’s birth year), walked across the creek to the winery for a quick round of late night punchdowns, and then made our way home for the night. The very next weekend, we were chased off the mountain just past midnight by the Nuns Fire as it raged uphill and towards our home. Morgan, Kayte, and Caritas took us in for an entire month— the most incredible example of hospitality and friendship we've ever experienced. Meanwhile on the mountain, Lore evacuated early but returned via fire road as soon as possible after the fire, days before it was legal, and set up a tent in the barn cellar. It still brings a lump to my throat as I write that the Olds family lost their house, all of their personal library of Sky Vineyards bottled wines, and a number of vines scattered across the vineyard blocks.
Miraculously, the winery survived, as did the wines in barrel. But the landscape of Sky Vineyards was forever changed – what had felt like a little Eden hidden at the top of the mountain was now a fire-charred moonscape, albeit filled with the same love and welcome embrace as always.
That November, when we returned to our home (miraculously still standing and largely undamaged, thanks to the incredible work of the firefighters), we named our new golden retriever Maya after our beloved Mayacamas mountains. In the five years that followed, we moved from the mountain into the town of Sonoma prior to Caleb being born, but we’ve clung dearly to our identities as mountain folk. I’ve had the opportunity to join the Olds family for several bottlings and to help with the pruning. In the fall of 2022, we realized a long-held dream and picked Sky Vineyards Syrah for Desire Lines. The wines of Sky Vineyards have long held a spell over me; the Syrahs we made for Bedrock in 2016 and 2017 were – and are – positively extraordinary. Caleb asked to join on the 2022 pick, and he himself was so enchanted by the vineyard and experience that he asked if he could make his own wine from Sky Vineyards next year. Further proof that something about that place just begets dreams. (We highly recommend you read Morgan’s beautiful description of this incredible place in the Bedrock Spring Release last week, linked here.)
2022 Sky Vineyards Syrah, Mt. Veeder
Which brings us to our 2022 Sky Vineyards Syrah, which is truly everything I’d hoped and dreamed – absolutely monumental, positively evocative, and perhaps the finest wine we’ve made yet. It sits comfortably in the Pantheon of California Syrah, as far as I’m concerned. The nose sings with crushed cherries, pine sap, Yerba Santa, and a savory baritone base note, while the palate is deep and long, framed by fine-grained tannins and kept fresh by trademark Mt. Veeder acidity.
We source primarily from Upper Block with a bit from Lower Block. The edge of the forest at the top of Upper Block is lined with Yerba Santa, a California native shrub renowned for its medicinal uses and the intense perfume of its sticky resin, and I swear you can smell it in our wine. The steep slope of Upper Block, combined with dry farming and restrictive pruning, explain the concentration of the wine, while the natural spring that flows out the base of Upper Block and the elevation of the site near the top of Mt. Veeder explain the freshness and vivid balance of the wine. Regrettably, fruit of this quality doesn’t come cheap (nor should it), and the vines have demanded a lot of time, attention, and resources since the fire of 2017. But, the place is a treasure, and the wine will age so gracefully – we’ll be drinking this wine with our children in 20 years, and for many years thereafter.
Our good friend and talented videographer Matt Nelsen joined Cody and Caleb on the Sky pick in September 2022 and created a beautiful video to commemorate it.
Please check it out here.
2022 Shake Ridge Ranch Syrah, Sierra Foothills, Amador County
Shake Ridge Ranch is our longest-tenured vineyard now (going all the way back to 2016, just one year after Griffin’s Lair), and we’ve come to know it – and Ann Kraemer – like a dear friend. It’s a magnificent vineyard in a beautiful setting with soils as exotic as the wine’s perfume, farmed with loving care and analytical precision. Unfortunately, in 2022 the Sierra Foothills suffered not one but two hard springs frosts, which are extraordinarily rare for the area – they were the first two frosts on the ranch that Ann knows of. Yields in our two blocks were down 75%, and some blocks were hit even harder. Accordingly, the wine will be allocated a little tighter than usual, and I could see this selling out quickly.
As in most years, our Shake Ridge Syrah is defined by the sultry, exotic perfume of the Sierra Foothills, and of Shake Ridge Ranch specifically. The vineyard has such an obvious signature in its wines, regardless of winemaker or variety. Red berry fruits, pretty floral accents, and a hint of ripe tropical fruit swirl from the glass, while the palate is all poise and class. I think Antonio Galloni said it best regarding our 2018, but also Shake Ridge in general: “Readers will find a nuanced, aromatically intense Syrah built more on elegance than power."
2022 Winds of Change Syrah
The 2022 rendition of our noble cellar defender and fan-favorite “Winds of Change” is once again predominantly Syrah and labeled as such. This is perhaps the most mission-driven wine that we make; made (and priced!) with the intention of turning wine lovers everywhere into ardent Syrah lovers. I adore Syrah, and think it’s a fabulous grape for California across much of state, evidenced by the fact that we launched Desire Lines in the first place to make Syrah (from Griffin’s Lair and Eaglepoint Ranch, and later Shake Ridge Ranch). I love that the grape manages to absorb the beautiful California sunshine without losing its trademark floral and savory notes, and that it does so in distinct ways all along the windy California coast, from the brackish, red-fruited and nervy Syrahs of Santa Barbara County to the dense and mineral expressions from the coastal mountains of the North Coast. The wine is our ode to California’s cool and windy places, told through the lens of Syrah, and captures so many wonderful journeys in one bottle.
We’ve lovingly referred to this as our “back the truck up” wine, and we’ve been absolutely thrilled to see what folks have been saying about previous vintages of Winds of Change on CellarTracker:
“Like the 2019, this is absurdly good. This is both more immediately delicious and ageworthy than much of what comes out of Napa at the $100 price point.”
“This is absolutely delicious again and still the best QPR I know in California.”
“Amazing value! Will become a regular in my cellar!”
“This wine is an incredible value, I should have bought more than 3… A young wine with great structure and age-able…if I hide them from myself. Wow.”
Soon after its release, the 2021 received a 94+ review from Antonio Galloni, who called it “fabulous… bursting with flavor and freshness.”
Despite the attention the 2022 harvest heat dome received in the national media, we think 2022 was a vintage with a number of strengths, even if it wasn’t entirely free of stress during harvest. It was a relatively cool summer following an early and dry spring, producing balanced crops featuring freshness and dense flavors. For a number of our sites, which are explicitly chosen for their cool and windy locations, the heat towards the end of harvest was the only thing missing to push the sugars across the finish line. The result is a classic Winds of Change in our book, head-lined by gorgeous fruit from Bennett Valley and leavened by plush, lithe fruit from Santa Barbara County. As always, the wine was raised in primarily 500-liter barrels without racking, fining, or filtration, and bottled after 15 months, capturing the joy, effusiveness, and complexity that defines good Syrah in California.
2021 Cat Canyon Vineyard Chenin Blanc
This is unfortunately our last rendition of our Chenin Blanc from Cat Canyon Vineyard. We released a 2020 Chenin Blanc from the vineyard in February 2022, and to our delight, it was universally beloved, most notably by Emily’s mom (we love you Lisa!), a passionate cohort of wine nerd friends, and our beloved mailing list members.
The vines at Cat Canyon Vineyard were planted in the early 1970s and are rooted in sand and calcareous shale, just downhill from White Hawk Vineyard. The vineyard is gloriously scruffy, and it reminded me of Cole Ranch the first time I saw it – not so much that the vines look similar, but for the sense of remarkable unrealized potential. It’s a cool and windy part of Santa Barbara County; the vineyard shares a wind gap with the famed Riesling site Kick-On Ranch (though Kick-On is closer to the ocean, and thus colder).
In 2020, we were surprised by the strength of Cat Canyon’s reductive nature during fermentation; I wrote at the time that we quickly pivoted from thinking of the wine as strictly a Chenin-analog and more as a White Burg-facsimile. With that in mind in 2021, we went a step further and did a full Kongsgaard-ian Death and Resurrection fermentation and élevage with a portion of the wine. For those unfamiliar with John Kongsgaard’s wines and his distinctive winemaking practices: the SparkNotes version is that the wine is left in barrel for over a year, untopped and unsulfured, before being sulfured to bring the wine back to life from the brink of utter oxidation. The practice tends to yield especially long-lived white wines (what more is left to oxidize, after all…) and brings a fascinating flesh to the mid-palate. Accordingly, our 2021 Cat Canyon Chenin Blanc remains salty and savory, with beautiful floral and green orchard fruit aromas, but has an extra depth and dimension relative to the 2020. It’s a charming and serious Chenin Blanc, sharing the same vocabulary as the wines from the hill of Breze by the likes of Thierry Germain, Romain Guiberteau, and Brendan Stater-West that I love so much.
2022 Wiley Vineyard Riesling
Wiley Vineyard, in the deep end of Anderson Valley, has perhaps my favorite driveway of all our vineyards. You turn left off Highway 128 just before you get to the gate to Bearwallow Vineyard across the road (and before you get to Kiser and Wendling vineyards), and after unlatching the gate you wind slowly uphill through a thick forest of Douglas firs and redwoods. The top of the ridgeline stands a few hundred feet above the highway below, and after unlatching a second gate at the top of the ridge, you come upon the vineyard on a gently south-facing exposition, with a beautiful view all the way back down Anderson Valley and to the top of Signal Ridge to the south.
Sometimes it’s sunny, but as often as not the marine layer sits thick on the vineyard, especially in the morning or late afternoon in the summer. The moderating influence of the nearby Pacific Ocean, which is less than 10 miles away, keeps temperatures in a narrow band at Wiley Vineyard: rarely below 40F or above 80F. By contrast, Cole Ranch is both colder (in the winter and at night) and warmer (during the day), which helps to explain the distinct personalities of our two old-vine Mendocino Riesling vineyards.
Our 2022 Wiley Vineyard Riesling was whole-cluster pressed and fermented in tank at cool-ish temperatures (60-64F). After fermentation the wine was racked to smaller vessels, but contrary to most years, we raised the wine in 60-gallon barrels made of stainless steel, rather than the usual neutral wood barrels. The choice was inspired by the wines and winemaking practices of Shafer-Frolich in Germany’s Nahe Valley, whose wines I deeply admire. And, if I flatter myself, I see some kinship with their wines and our Wiley Vineyard Riesling. Wiley tends to push reductive during fermentation, developing flinty aromas and a steely tension that tempers the floral, citrus zesty effusiveness the wine otherwise flaunts. The more reductive élevage in stainless steel barrels leans in to that tendency, rather than trying to fight it, retaining all the nuance and precision that the wine so naturally expresses. Like being a parent, it’s such a pleasure to be amazed by one’s wine (or child!), and I am just dumb struck by this iteration of Wiley Vineyard Riesling. Unfortunately, the vineyard was hit hard by a spring frost, suffering a 60% loss of yield, so our production is down significantly – I expect this wine to sell out quickly.
"The 2022 Riesling Wiley Vineyard is a gorgeous, translucent wine. Green pear, jasmine, crushed rocks and mint are all delineated. Airy and intensely mineral, this Anderson Valley Riesling is so charming. Time in the glass brings out lovely floral overtones and just a touch of mid-palate sweetness." - Antonio Galloni, 92 points