In Vino Veritas II.

So, maybe a little later than we should have, we racked the Pinot Gris yesterday, i.e. transferred it from one five-gallon glass carboy to another, leaving two inches of sediment behind. The juice right now is incredibly sugary and sweet without, Stewart thought, a whole lot of depth of flavor. Hopefully that will come as we tend to it and age it. We also added the yeast, which will kick in the fermentation and get the real show on the road. Now, we wait.

A side note to the home winemaking: I stopped in at Bridgeview Beer & Wine Supply, 624 Main Street, Oregon City, to get a few supplies for the evening's work. Packed with seemingly everything the homebrewer or winemaker could possibly need — malt, hops, presses, crushers, yeasts, buckets, bottles, caps, corks, huge pots and books and grain mills and hundreds of different kinds of bottled beer and wine from around the world and on and on and on — the store is a fantastic resource for supplies and knowledge. One of the owners shared valuable advice on our winemaking progress to date, and they had everything I needed for this next stage.

Perusing the aisles of Bridgeview, checking out the cans of malt, taking in the aromas that permeate the homebrewer's kitchen, I may well have caught the homebrew bug again. A few years ago I tried my hand at it, brewing up several batches of mediocre pale ale that never quite tasted like anything other than mediocre homebrewed pale ale. It was hard to justify the time and effort with such a cornucopia of stellar beers on just about any store shelf across the metro region.

But I was younger then, and maybe not so attentive to sanitation or sobriety during the brewing process. Perhaps another go at it is in order this winter. If nothing else, at least my kitchen will take on that heavenly aroma again, but after that trip to Bridgeview yesterday, I'm hoping for more . . .

In Vino Veritas I.

Over the past maybe five years or so, my wife, Amy, and I have really gotten into wine. Not only do we live in one of the richest wine regions in the world, but I've had some great experiences that have opened my eyes to how truly incredible wine can be. The most memorable of all was an informal wine class given to me by my sister- and brother-in-law for my 29th birthday. That December night in Atlanta five years ago, their friend and a true oenophile John opened my eyes to the joy of great wine: the appreciation, the pairing, the gratification. Since then, I've looked at all kinds of vino with an entirely new set of eyes; one that longs to learn, to expand, to take in and experience.

This fall, a couple friends — Stewart and Steve — have invited me along to make some homemade wine with them. In the interest of learning more and trying out something completely new, I've gladly accepted.

Through Stewart's connection at McMenamins Edgefield in Troutdale, we were able to pick about 30 gallons of Pinot Gris grapes on Tuesday night. Though Pinot Gris is a white wine, the grapes are purplish-gray on the vine. (Gris is French for gray; Pinot is roughly pinecone or pine, in this case a reference to the grape clusters' pinecone shape.) Last night we had a crush party, where we pressed the grapes into about 6-and-a-half gallons of juice. Now we'll let it settle for a few days and then it's on to the next step: adding yeast and such to kick in the fermentation.

More to come on this one for sure. Looking forward to it. Cheers.

Steve picking Pinot Gris grapes just before trespassing into a nest of bees — and getting stung in the eye.

Welcome

The Enchantment Lakes Basin of Washington's Alpine Lakes Wilderness.

Welcome to Reflections in Ink, a.k.a. the Ink Blog, my first stab at adding a blog to my writing repertoire. For more than eight years now, I have been writing for a living: for newspapers and magazines, web sites and newsletters, companies and clients, and, most of all, for myself. And for 20 years I have been writing in journals, penning hand-written notes to my closest friends and family, and writing songs and stories, some of which see the light, others which may never find their way in front of any other eyes but my own.

Now I'm adding a blog, and while this first step is exciting, I can't say that I know exactly what I hope it will achieve. I don't expect crowds, but certainly I'd love to attract more readers — and, secondarily, maybe even some prospective clients — to my words. It's something that I'm sure will evolve and grow on its own as it matures. I want it to be a place where I can put down the thoughts in my head that I want to share with other people; those thoughts that I'd love to be able to say out loud eloquently but, because I am a writer and not an orator, never can. To be honest, this will also serve as a place for me to publish the writing of mine that for one reason or another doesn't catch the attention of whatever publications I've pitched it to. It happens to all writers, but that doesn't mean the stories aren't deserving of a bigger stage. This will be mine.

And finally, I also envision the Ink Blog as a resource of sorts for anyone looking for thoughts on the written word, the great outdoors, music and literature and wine and travel and home improvement and Oregon, the Northwest, the Midwest, and life with a beautiful wife, a cherished daughter and a black lab unlike any other. And that — and this — is just the beginning . . .