We have been doing this for a very long time. Farming is definitely not a weak man’s sport. At least for those who are dedicated to growing, producing and making something very worthwhile. Once you come to the point of no return, you will do anything to get to the peak. Much like heli-snowboarding in the untouched mountains of Norway. You either do it or don’t go home.

Farming is a devotion to many things.. It’s a devotion to a plant, your place and land, and typically a good wife keeping you nourished (and hopefully her husband will feed her too!). Winegrowing is unlike any other profession. The rhythm, the seasons, it’s all a part of your own circadian rhythm. Each will not work without the other. And such a delicate balance.

Long days in the hot sun. No end in site for the end of your vineyard row. Hand hoeing vines in the 1970s... these were our summers. Tasting the dust in your mouth, dryness in your nostrils, and undeniable thirst for water... as the minutes become hours, you begin to think of many other things. Life, friends, love... it all starts to feel a bit like ping pong.

Without the experiences of simple good hard work, we would not appreciate the incredible place we stand today. Justin and I work with our hands each and every day. He more than I, I will admit. His strong dirty farming hands show an incredible story of the crazy dedication to this thing... this thing called farming.

We say it’s a good crazy.