Alumni Wine Showcase
March was nearly over, and April was just around the corner. There was one place I had been keeping a close eye on, even though I’d left it to its own devices for a while: the section of the Silveroak vineyard I had purchased at a high price.
Months had passed since the wildfire swept through, but that area of the Silveroak property still held onto its ash-gray memories. Charred tree stumps remained scattered about, some crumbling into dust at the slightest touch of the wind.
However, thanks to the rye and barley I’d sown to survive the winter, patches of green shoots were rising, erasing the scars of the fire from the desolate earth.
“When we first bought this land, it was nothing but a pile of ash, and I was so anxious. But looking at it now, it feels different. It’s truly amazing.”
“Isn’t it?”
My father’s expression as he gazed over the sprawling land was now filled with anticipation. The image of the vineyard burned to ash was still vivid in his mind, but seeing the green landscape emerging as if to say things could change, he must have felt a sense of pride.
I knelt on the soil and pulled up a stalk of rye. As the fresh, healthy roots touched my palm, a smile spread across my face.
“Look at this. This is proof that the soil is alive.”
Dad looked at me and chuckled.
“You’re right. It’s fresh. It feels like the land is coming back to life.”
“This is just the beginning. I don’t think the land at Tokalon was perfect from the start either; it became that way because someone managed it and time accumulated. We can do it, too.”
“My son is right. We can do it, too.”
Dad soon climbed onto the tractor equipped with a Disc Harrow.
“Don’t go too deep! Please be careful not to go deeper than 20 centimeters!”
“Got it! I understand!”
The tractor, emitting a heavy roar, began to move along the ridges. The cultivator churned the rye and barley as if mowing them down, and the leaves and stalks slowly disappeared, mixing into the soil. From a distance, it looked like a green field rippling like waves, turning into brown earth.
Plowing land with a tractor might look simple, but it requires meticulous standards. Cover crops provide organic matter as they rot in the ground, but if they are buried too deeply, a lack of oxygen causes the production of decay gases. That can actually harm the roots.
“You have to watch the path and depth Dad is plowing and make sure you follow it exactly!”
When I explained the method to the workers who had followed us, they nodded.
I followed the path the tractor had taken, picked up a shovel, scooped up some soil, and placed it in my palm. The soil, which had been mixed with black ash, had now turned a soft brown, and broken rye roots and barley stalks were mixed throughout. When I rubbed it slightly with my fingers, I could feel the moist hydration.
“Good. The foundation is set.”
After the tractor Dad was driving made a turn, a worker took over. Dad, smiling at the soft texture of the plowed earth, picked up a handful of soil and let it flow through his fingers. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes.
“Honestly... I can’t believe this is the same Silveroak land that was just a pile of ash. It looks like soil ready for planting.”
I opened my bag and took out a portable soil testing kit I had prepared, and Dad watched it intently.
“Is that equipment for testing?”
“Yes. It’s best to take samples right when we’re working today. We need to know the state of the soil before we artificially interfere with it.”
I scooped up the soil with a shovel and placed it on a plastic sheet. The workers stopped what they were doing and cast curious glances. It was clear they were wondering what this young Asian man was about to do.
Dad asked with his arms crossed.
“Can you tell right away?”
“Yes. I can check the pH level simply. We’ll have to send it to a lab for precise analysis, but this is enough for the field.”
I put a handful of soil into a plastic cup and poured in distilled water. I stirred it slowly with a spoon so the soil and water would mix evenly. Once the muddy water was cloudy and well-mixed, I took out a piece of litmus paper and carefully dipped it in. A few seconds later, the tip of the paper slowly began to change color.
“Oh...”
One of the workers watching from the side let out an exclamation. The litmus paper was changing subtly between green and yellow. I compared it to the color chart and read the number.
“It’s coming out at about pH 5.8.”
When I said that, Dad’s eyes widened.
“5.8? Isn’t that on the acidic side?”
“Yes. If it were grapes, they would have been very sensitive. But fortunately, we grew green manure instead of grapes, and now if we use compost and lime together, we can bring it up close to neutral. You don’t have to teach the workers; just have them adjust the acidity with lime and silicate.”
“I was going to do that anyway. Even if I try to teach them, they don’t understand, and they keep trying to teach me, so it’s a hundred times better to just tell them what to do.”
“I suppose so.”
I collected soil from another area and tested it the same way. This time, the color appeared slightly different.
“This one is about pH 6.2. Still close to acidic, but if you take the overall average, it’s around 6.0.”
Dad looked down at the ground with a worried face.
“Then... that means this land still has a long way to go.”
“No. It’s actually in good condition. If it had dropped below 5.5, it would have taken years to recover. Now, it will come up quickly with just one year of management. As far as soil improvement goes, this is lucky.”
“Then the soil is fine as it is... what’s next?”
“After April, we’ll start with drainage reinforcement. So that when it rains, it doesn’t pool but permeates and drains downward quickly. This is the foundation of the Tokalon AVA. After that, we’ll lay gravel in sections where the gravel layer is weak.”
“The whole thing?”
I shook my head at my surprised father.
“No. Along the rows where we’ll plant the trees, about 50cm wide. We need to dig 50 to 80cm deep and lay 1 to 3cm sized gravel from a river or stream mixed with coarse sand in a 7:3 ratio, about 30 to 40cm thick.”
“Wait a second, let me write that down.”
After confirming he had written down what I said, I continued the explanation.
“On top of that, we need to cover it with 10 to 20cm of original loam and well-matured compost to create a buffer layer. If we cover the entire soil here, it becomes too big a project and costs too much, so partial construction along the planting lines is the best way.”
“So this place will become like Tokalon?”
“There’s one thing we need to add to that. We need to fill the soil with organic matter and microorganisms by using well-matured compost, Biochar Compost, and mycorrhizae. Then this land will be completely different.”
“With this much money going in, I really hope there’s a good result.”
“It will get better. We’re following the principles of science. As long as there isn’t another wildfire...”
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about! Farming goes the way you want, but wildfires don’t!”
“Haha, it’s a place that’s already been hit once. And we have no choice but to always be prepared for wildfires.”
“We should be. But wildfires are so scary.”
“I feel the same way.”
I knew that a wildfire would eventually sweep through the Napa and Sonoma regions again. All I could do was prevent the damage from wildfires as much as possible while saving money to buy the land that would be damaged and put up for sale.
At that moment, a rough voice came from far away.
“Doing well?”
I turned my head to see Elowen Pike waving from over the fence, watching us. When Dad and I approached, his face looked much better than before.
“You look well.”
When Dad mentioned it immediately, Elowen shrugged his shoulders.
“You have to forget the hard times quickly.”
It seemed his face had changed because the financial pressure that had been crushing his shoulders had disappeared after he got his hands on a whopping $1.1 million.
“Anyway, you’re working hard. Planting cover crops in winter is an excellent choice. I was going to tell you, but you’re doing well on your own.”
“My son is quite smart.”
Dad wrapped his arm around my shoulder and laughed proudly.
“Haha, that’s great to see. Yes. Keep working hard. Another wildfire might happen, but that’s the fate of us farmers. Overcoming it is also our job.”
It felt like he was teasing us, saying, 'If another wildfire happens, the land you bought will act as a shield.' Dad must have felt it too, but he brushed it off as if it were nothing.
“That’s right. In that sense, maybe because we’ve overcome it once, I don’t feel too afraid.”
Even though I had just said it was scary...
Perhaps because I brought up the fact that we had safely survived last year’s fire, Elowen’s face stiffened slightly.
“Well... do your best. I’m curious to see how this land will change, too.”
He turned his body and walked away, leaving behind the fence he had built so firmly.
When April arrived and the rain that used to fall occasionally stopped completely, making the ground dry, I visited Jacob’s farm in Sacramento again.
I slapped the back of Jacob, who was staring blankly at the rice paddy from the ridge.
“How’s it going?”
Startled, Jacob burst into a hearty laugh.
“Hahaha! You’re here? We’re doing great!”
Ever since he decided to build a distillery, Jacob had been full of hope.
“You’re very excited.”
“Of course. My heart is pounding like crazy.”
It didn’t suit him at all to say his heart was pounding with that huge frame of his.
“Don’t get too excited yet. You might lose your hair once you actually get the loan.”
“Hahaha, my dad is bald. Even if I don’t take out a loan, I’ll go bald, so it’s useless.”
“......”
When my expression sank into sadness at Jacob’s sudden coming-out,
“I’m fine with it, you know? It’s manly. I’m going to grow a cool mustache and beard like my dad later. Doesn’t it look totally tough?”
I think I know why Jacob was already so excited. Since he’s a guy who can happily accept being bald, the anxiety about the future of the distillery must be nothing to him.
“... I think so, too. It would suit you well. What about the permits?”
“For now, I submitted the DSP permit application to the TTB. And as you said, I’m applying for a grant from the USDA VAPG, and the SBA loan review is also in progress.”
Since it can take months just to process a loan review, it’s good to get the review done in advance. And it’s standard to execute the loan when the permit is issued.
“Well done. Who helped you with the blueprint design?”
“I didn’t know anyone well, so I requested it from the design department. They recommended a company called Aether & Ground Architects, so I commissioned them. Even then, since the school recommended them and I’m a student, they said they’d only charge 3% of the construction cost for the design fee.”
“Oh, that’s a relief.”
“I guess this is why connections are important!”
It was a relief that things were still going smoothly so far.
“I’m glad it’s going well. What about the sowing?”
Jacob, who had immediately changed to a serious face, twisted his white face and pointed to the rice paddy.
“As you can see here, as you said, when I induced weed germination, only the weeds came up first. So I’m killing them with herbicide.”
What I taught Jacob is a method called Stale Seedbed, where you induce weed germination first and then sow. If you fill the rice paddy with only 2 to 3cm of water to raise the temperature, the weeds germinate quickly in the sunlight, and that’s when you preemptively kill the weeds.
This method can reduce weed pressure by 30 to 40% by removing the weeds that come up first, and instead of using the same herbicide every year, it reduces the burden of herbicide by lowering the initial density, which has the effect of suppressing resistant weeds in the long term.
“What about the seeds?”
“I did this as you said, too; I soaked the seeds in 60℃ water for about 10 minutes and then cooled them. And I also disinfected them with Captan.”
This method is also the concept of Seed Disinfection that I taught him.
It’s to prevent Bakanae disease (a rice blast fungus that causes seedlings to grow abnormally tall, causing large yield losses), smut, and brown spot disease (which lowers grain quality and milling rate). In 2005, only some farmers used hot water treatment or chemical disinfection, but I told him that if he disinfected all seeds, he could prevent more than 80% of initial diseases.
Jacob’s strength was that, unlike his appearance, he was following the methods I taught him without a single doubt.
“Well done. It looks like it’s going well, so I’ll get going.”
“What? You’re leaving right after you got here?”
“I just stopped by on my way home from school. And I have to go quickly.”
“Why?”
“Because I have to prepare for the vinegar shipment.”
That’s right. The vinegar I started right after harvesting the Cabernet Sauvignon last year was finally ready to come out into the world. Shall we call it Redwood Vinegar Season 2?
“You’ve spent a lot of money so far, so it’s time to make some.”
As I started the car with a light heart and headed home, my phone rang. I answered it absentmindedly, and an unexpected voice came through.
“Brian? You know the alumni wine showcase is in a week, right?”
I tilted my head at Dean Thomas’s soft voice.
“Yes, and?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to introduce your winery’s products.”
“Pardon? It’s still... in a situation where it’s not finished...”
“Ah, I know that. You can just think of it as a place to let people know about your winery. And you have to keep this to yourself, but... everyone is curious about your winery.”
“Really?”
“Yes. So why don’t you showcase it once?”
I bit my lip slightly and then said quietly.
“I understand. I’ll do that.”
“Then I’ll look forward to it.”
The call ended, and I pressed down on the accelerator.
Since I was going to the showcase, I didn’t want to put out a wine that looked like it was only half-made.
“I’m going to have a lot to do...”