Working Tourist

For the last several weeks I have put my job on hold to volunteer at a local winery during the harvest. In the months leading to this life changing experience, I begged the owner/winemaker to let me help. He cautioned me that the work would be hard and dirty. We would be working long hard days with little to no time for instruction but if I thought I could tough it out, he would allow me to help. I had no way to understand what I was really in for but I was excited nonetheless. I am a hard worker and am accustomed to long days, but it was as hard if not harder than they described it to be.

Those of you that may enjoy a good wine may have some idea of the time it takes for the wine to become the final product but until you are shoveling eight tons of fruit, preparing it for fermentation, you are unaware of the amount of human labor required. Arriving at quarter to six and picking grapes in the dark until the sun finally comes up, you begin to live life in the unglamorous, little recognized world of wine.

There is much that happens in the cellar before it goes to the bottle and I saw and did it all. Fermentation, pressing, barreling, racking, and cleanup. Constant cleanup. Everything is scrubbed and hosed down several times over. You get to a point where you don't even care how wet you are or how black your hands are stained by the grapes. (You have not experienced wine until you have had "harvest hands".) It was all so amazing I can hardly describe it in this tiny blog. But if you ever have the chance, take it. Jump in with both feet and go with it.

I was not paid for my time but I wouldn't trade the lessons I learned in that field, in that cellar, in that tasting room, or in that press (yes, in the press. it has to be cleaned somehow.) for anything.