My walking partner and I have decided to try some vineyard walks on Friday afternoons. OK, that's not entirely accurate, Irma, in a weak moment agreed to walk in some vineyards with me when I begged her for months on end. Today she's wondering why she ever said yes.I don't plan well. I like to go with the flow, see how things work out. It's why so much of the time I don't have a clue what is going on or where I am suppose to be. And, of course, I was giving directions. This is a recipe for disaster. I wanted to walk the path that the monks at Our Lady of Guadalupe use to walk into Lafayette. Monk's Gate Vineyard was named for this short cut, and there even is a real gate into the vineyard, and it is really used by the Monks to get into town.
Here is the only problem. I was giving bad directions. Garry, our chauffeur for the day, listens to my directions and immediately we are on the wrong road going the wrong direction. I make up for that mistake by making three more. Luckily we eventually see a sign from God (well, one of the blue road side signs that direct you to vineyards which I think are heaven sent.) Then we turn down the road to the Abby. There is only one problem. It's not on the same side of the road as the vineyard to which we are headed. So, we have Garry just drop us off on the highway. My walking companion is nervous. She has reason to be. I tell her she should write a book on "Strange Things My Pastor Has Talked Me Into." This walk wouldn't even make the list. Neither of us has ever walked this path before, we have no idea where it leads, and we haven't talked to anyone who's ever walked it. Here is the sum total of everything that we know. 1. The vineyard is somewhere over there. 2. Someone told me that a path exists from the Abby to the vineyard. 3. This old logging road seems to head off in the right direction. So, even though my companion is nervous, and even though the first thing we run into is a sign that says "No Trespassing" we head out as though we knew what we were doing.
I lead us down several wrong turns. We would have gotten there in five minutes if my walking partner would have wised up, asked me the direction I thought we should go, and then headed directly in the opposite direction. I lead us down when we should go up. I lead us north when we should go south. I lead us on a bushwhacking expedition to nowhere. Eventually we happen upon the actual gate. It's a bit disappointing. I was expecting a large wood mid-eval affair, but it's a chain link version from Wilco. That's the gate in the photo above. There is a cute little statue of a monk once you get through it, and a place to leave donations.
When we leave the woods and come into the vineyard it almost seems like it's been worth the struggle. The white wispy clouds look as though they have been painted onto a bright blue sky. The vineyard is coming to life and you can see the shoots that will become this year's grape harvest. The the one with whom I walk almost forgives me for all of the misdirection and muddy paths down which I've lead her. AND as soon as we hike down to the base of the vineyard, we get wine!!!!!
Except that no one is there. We call. We check the door to the tasting room and consider self serve, but cooler heads prevail. Eventually we decide to get in the car and head back onto the highway. Our driver asks where we should go. "Turn immediately at the next blue sign" I answer. It's the only good directions I've given all day.
