Two Days In Temecula
I woke up in the driver seat of my pick up truck having drove through the night to make an early morning rendezvous with Brookelynn. I made good time, so I slept for an hour, but neither the one hour or the driver seat left me feeling particularly rested. In fact I felt so tired that it hurt. That kind of hollow ache that boarders on nausea. Truthfully, after working until 3am the night before, I should have called the whole thing off.
The destination, wine country. Ah, not Sonoma or Paso Robles, we were headed to Temecula. Although it doesn’t boast the fame of its northern cousins it does have the climate to produce wine. In fairness, I am not a wine connoisseur, and do not have a sophisticated palate, so you won’t hear me pontificating on notes of black cherry and pepper when I taste a glass of Petite Syrah. What I will say is that finding a good glass of wine can be tricky and that what has made it onto your grocer’s shelves or even the well equipped liquor store shelf is quite good.
Just because wineries are producing it, doesn’t mean they are selling it. However, whether you like the wines or not there is no equivalent to siping the fermented grapes in cellars and cask rooms or strolling, glass in hand, through the vineyard. There is a childish enjoyment in plucking a wine grape from the vine and tossing its plump sun bathed body into your mouth. Pop one between your teeth and you can taste their sweet beginnings.
Most of the wineries are positioned along a loop — Rancho California Rd. to Glen Oaks Rd., Glen Oaks to De Portola, then Anza Rd. and back again. In that loop alone there are over a dozen wineries. Some inspired by white minimalist Scandinavian farm houses and others adorned like Tuscan villas perched above the rolling vines. After the first day of tooling around and getting are bearings we settled in at Callaway to watch the sunset with a glass of their Sauvignon Blanc. As the sun set the contrast between strands of vivid green and dark shadows grew. If you listened carefully the you could hear the buzz of diligent honey bees and the call of red tailed hawks above. My favorite character in all this a fiercely painted and proud looking American Kestrel perched atop a little white bird house. His size not in sync with his lethality. The birds of pray are welcome residents, keeping rodents and other pesky birds from having their way with juicy bundles.
That night we stayed with our friends at the Namaste Ranch. Sleeping in a trailer reminiscent of what I would image a luxury stage coach would have been like. Red velvet seats and a bed piled with tasseled throw pillows. The gentle sounds of actual sheep lulling us to sleep. The roosters and peacocks gave us an early morning wake up call and we took our coffee with the rest of the menagerie. Dolly the guardian Great Pyrenees keeping us company as we said our hellos and our goodbyes.
In the afternoon we sat down for lunch and another sampling of wine at Ponte winery, by this time an orange haze from a near by forest fire had enveloped the sky. Full on charcuterie and crisp calamari we stopped by a few other honorable mentions Danzo Del Sol and Wilson Creek. Danzo Del Sol boasting the title of having the oldest Sauvignon Blanc vine in the area which dates back to the early 70’s and they also hold the distinction of serving me my favorite wine, a bold and full bodied Petite Syrah that hit all the right notes for me personally.
We wound our selves through the hills of De Luz for a little glamping getaway. What a departure from the rolling hills east of Temecula. As you head west into De Luz the terrain steepens drastically, covered in a patchwork agricultural treasures. Hills of avocado trees heavy with prized fruit and other sections covered in dense carpets of blue eucalyptus — their familiar aroma filling the air. I almost regretted that we had split our time, because as we entered this new terrain I realized we had stumbled into a whole new adventure one deserving of time and exploration.
In hindsight we had bit off more than we could chew. I always believe I am going to get more done than I can. And what ends up happening is that in the effort to check things off my list I end up losing sight of why I had traveled there in the first place. It was a wake up call. This trip forced me to reconsider the what and the why of my travel.
Only as a result of writing this blog have I come to the realization that less is more. An art teacher in elementary school used to say that and I have often repeated the phrase and found it applicable in so many different realms of my life. becomes difficult to focus the subject when you have skipped around too much. It also becomes difficult to share any meaningful experiences when I am really only experiencing the place at a surface level.
I want to my travel exeriences to serve as inspiration for someone to come and see for themselves. So much of my travel has been consumed by timelines and to-do lists… “Trying to make the most of it…” Only now I’ve realized. I’ve missed so much. Temecula taught me to keep it simple, to listen to the buzz of the bees in the vineyard and the hawks calling overheard, to feel the presence of present company, and to savor the warmth of a waining sun.
