There are several vineyards that I want to study while I'm on Sabbatical. Each has a unique quality that has caught my attention, and caused me to want to learn more about them. One of those is Witness Tree Vineyards which is just east of Amity. It was named after the huge oak tree which dominates the hillside about half way up the vineyard and is used as a surveying point. I wanted to do some preliminary research on a wine they have provocatively called "Chainsaw Red". I just love a winery that celebrates a form of cultivation on a wine label. I want to get a look at the vines that produce this wine. Specifically I want to look at the mature Chardonnay vines that were lopped off with a chainsaw so that Pinot Noir vines could be grafted onto them. There are two things about this process that fascinate me. First of all that you can do that. Just top off a mature vine and graft a different varietal onto it. And, secondly, I'm amazed at how vineyard managers make decisions like that. "OK, lets bring in the chainsaws, wipe out these vines and do something completely different." As someone who works in a church this kind of decisive leadership is impressive.
So I dropped by anonymously early on a Thursday to do some research before I bother the vineyard manager. I've already contacted Steven Westry by email, and he graciously told me to call him directly, but I want to know a bit more before I deal directly with him. I love this winery. There is something magical about the wines that come from this part of the Eola-Amity Hills AVA (American Viticulture Area). To me there is also something understated about the tasting room at Witness Tree. It's friendly and welcoming, and unlike some other wineries in the area they have some wines that are within my price point. Chainsaw Red Pinot Noir is one of those wines. So, I introduce myself to the young woman who is behind the bar, give her one of
my cards and ask a few questions. She puts up both hands and says immediately, "I'll get Steve." 
Before I can object Steven Westry is standing in front of me. He's just returned from a sales trip somewhere down south and he's tired. He is also one of the most gracious and welcoming wine makers I have every met. I ask about the chainsaw vines. I had thought that they were American root stock, grafted with Chardonnay, and then re-grafted with Pinot Noir. It turns out that a lot of this vineyard was planted with self rooted vines. That is a problem. There is a little root louse called phylloxera that kills European root systems like Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. I know that another vineyard just up the hill has the problem, and, it turns out, so does Witness Tree. I can't imagine the pain of seeing large swaths of your vineyard go from green, well producing vines, to practically dead, non producing ones.
Steven takes me out and shows me one of the Chainsaw vines. You can see it in the photo above. The two shoots at the top of the vine are the new varietal which was introduced after the old was topped off. I learn some really interesting things right away. The most amazing to me is
that the Pinot Noir on Chardonnay root stocks produce larger clusters of fruit than the the ones
that are self rooted. (That's a cluster of these grapes in the photo to the right.) Chardonnay roots just send more energy, water and vitality to the grapes. That blows me away. I ask Steven why they did this. It turns out that when the original owner of the property went to get a loan to plant a vineyard (of all things) the wise bank officials insisted that they had to have "bankable" varietals on the property, if they wanted to mess around with this unproven Pinot Noir, that was fine, but half the vines had to be Chardonnay. So, as over time Pinot Noir became "THE" grape, the vineyard found itself with much more Chardonnay that they could effectively market. So, out came the chainsaws. It was a specialty company from California that did the work. Steven explained that this was a stop gap measure. It's not the best way to grow Pinot Noir, but when you pull out the old vines and plant new it takes seven years for the new vines to produce usable grapes. With this method they were producing a full crop the next year. Steven explained that these vines are at the bottom of the property in the "Missoula Floods" soils. These are not the soils that grow great wines. Those soils are up at the top of the property. I ask about those, and Steve asks if I want to go up on a tour. Oh hell yes. So we drive over to one of shop buildings, grab a "Gator" and are off.
I can't believe I'm getting to do this. Two things about these upper vines just jump out at me. First of all the clusters are much smaller. (That's one to the left.) Secondly, at just a few hundred feet of elevation gain the grapes have about half as much color as the ones down the hill. The best wines are made from these upper vines. The ones on the Chardonnay roots at the bottom of the hill in the alluvial soil make perfectly acceptable wine. But these vines that have to struggle, that will barely become ripe by winter, that have so little fruit per shoot, these will produce the complex, many layered wines that will set you back $60 and more.
Steven has been away from the vines for a bit. He is closely examining each section. They have tried various ways of dealing with the problem of original root stocks. There are several four acre sections that have been torn out for a new start. There are sections where they have planted new vines on American root stock in between the self rooted vines.
As we head up the hill I'm amazed at how different the soils are. Some are the red "Jory" type of soils. A bit higher the soil is filled with rocks and is more brownish. Each brings a different note of flavor to the wines of the estate.
I didn't get a chance to do a tasting, but I will be back. Steven is a gifted wine maker and I feel so blessed to have been able to get a tour and ask an endless series of questions. I want to come back and get a few of those upper level wines and lay them down in my cellar for a few years, then bring them up to celebrate some important event, or to give to someone I love. They will taste even better knowing the story behind them and the person who tends the vines and makes the wine.