Cool Climate Winemaking in California: The True Sonoma Coast

By Jonathan Swinchatt
August 31, 2009

 

David Hirsch was looking for a quiet retreat, a place removed from the competitive stress and superficial values of the women’s fashion business, which is to say that he sold fine dresses to affluent women. He had enjoyed his twice-yearly trips to Paris, essential to staying current and keeping his customers content, but the travel was getting old and the effort was taking its toll. He needed to find a piece of land far from the apparent glamour of his business, a site on which he could explore a new-found interest in growing trees, an endeavor that seemed to promise the kind of balance he was seeking. Eventually he found 1100 acres of rugged land on the north coast of Sonoma County, California, distant enough from his home in Santa Cruz, a place that was becoming, for him, too crowded and urban. The year was 1978.

Hirsch did not rush to plant trees. Generations of sheep grazing on the cleared ridges had ravaged the land, accentuating its native tendency to slip and slide, to slowly slouch into the steep ravines. Much of the cleared land has the look of a hip-hop fashion plate, the mantle of earth rolling in irregular folds down the hills as if it is too big for the frame beneath. Hirsch looked, and wondered, and talked to experts, and then one day visited the land with his friend Jim Beauregard.

By that time, Hirsch had made the passage, as so many do, from the wines of Bordeaux to those of Burgundy, guided by John Horgan, a wine importer who had provided Hirsch with access to some of the finest producers, including Domaine de la Romanee-Conti. Not surprisingly, given his elevated exposure, Hirsch quickly took to the wines of the Cote D’Or, which became something of a passion. Then, on the day in 1980 that he and Beauregard stood atop a ridge on his 1100 acres, his friend said “If you plant Pinot Noir here, it will be world famous.” Given his passion for Burgundy, and perhaps with a vision or two of Romanee-Conti and Chambertin, he seized the idea and planted his first vineyard block that same year. In 1988, he increased his plantings to 47 acres, mostly Pinot Noir in a variety of clones. Then suddenly, in 1994, winemakers began to call, fine producers of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay such as Williams Selyem and Kistler, and the then new, now renowned, Littorai. Just as Beauregard predicted, Hirsch’s vineyard became a star on the wine map. Its reputation would continue to grow as more and more producers of fine Pinot Noir sought his grapes.

The serendipitous character of Hirsch’s tale is not unusual in this land that is distinguished by its wine denizens as the “true” Sonoma Coast. Much of it is a land for the self-contained, for those who have little need, at least day to day, for the glitter and glamour that so often accompany wine where it chooses to settle and evolve. And much of it will stay this way even in the light of growing public acclaim. The land is rough and difficult of access, not readily adaptable to the wishes of those who are attracted to the more superficial aspects of the vinous life — it would take an articulated limo to maneuver the switchbacks and hairpins that mark most of the roads. Growing grapes in land like this requires a different kind of dedication, not just the normal passion for wine but also a willingness to put up with the inconvenience and solitude of semi-isolation. You can see the vineyards of a neighbor on the ridge six or eight miles distant but borrowing a spare part for your tractor, should one be available, will take an hour or more of slow and torturous driving. Such conditions choose their inhabitants, and there are not many, only a few dozen vineyards, though more are being developed as the region’s reputation explodes. Most of the wine is made offsite, both by those who grow the grapes and others who buy them. So far, the region is known best by way of its small production winemakers, though their success has tempted larger outfits to try their hand at growing grapes in one of America’s more challenging regions. All have learned that it is unpredictable country that demands attention, dedication, and a mind freed, at least partially, from the presumptions of education or experience elsewhere.

 

The Place : Sonoma County and the “True” Sonoma Coast

            America’s most visited wine region — the Napa Valley — has become a destination for millions of wine-imbibing tourists not only because of its fine product but also because it is an easy place to visit and understand, at least superficially. A distinct valley bordered by linear ranges, it has a visual integrity that pleases the eye and relaxes the mind. Drive its two main roads, Highway 29 on the west and the Silverado Trail on the east and you will have seen, and had easy access to, the bulk of its vineyards and wineries. Look at a map of Napa AVAs (American Viticultural Area)— the fourteen that exist within the umbrella Napa Valley AVA — and they are laid out in front of you with a distinct sense of order, suggesting a degree of rationality that implies a geographic and geologic distinctiveness that imparts to their wines something characteristic of the AVA. That this is not necessarily so is overshadowed for most by the ease with which they can travel through, and experience, Napa and its wares.

            In anarchic distinction, Sonoma County, Napa’s immediate western neighbor, shows no such order. The irregular and overlapping boundaries of its 13 AVAs reflect a geography that defies easy understanding or efficient travel. Perhaps reflecting its diverse geography, Sonoma is a funkier place than Napa with ethnic and economic diversity that is foreign to its tonier neighbor to the east. In decades past, Sonoma was perhaps best known for Zinfandel and Chardonnay, its Cabernet Sauvignon not often reaching the heights of crowd-pleasing ripeness and power that have attracted such attention to Napa. Over the past 15 years or so, however, attention has been increasingly focused on Sonoma Pinot Noir, particularly from the Russian River Valley but over the past few years with growing interest in the even cooler climate of the Sonoma Coast, most notably that part of it north of the town of Bodega and within just a few miles of the ocean, the region now known to an increasingly devoted clientele as the “true” Sonoma Coast (called here also “the True”).

            The distinction is a matter of geography. The Sonoma Coast AVA covers 750 square miles, running from the shores of San Pablo Bay near San Francisco northward to the Mendocino County line. Narrow in the north, the AVA jogs inland and widens south of the small town of Bodega (location for Hitchcock’s film “The Birds”), extending eastward to include the low-lying land south of the city of Santa Rosa. As is true of many California AVAs, the Sonoma Coast encompasses a broad range of topographic, geologic and climatic conditions — distinguishing its narrow northwestern corner as the true Sonoma Coast is recognition that this piece of land is uniquely different from the remainder of the AVA.

            This is a young, dynamic, and restless piece of Earth — David Hirsch calls it a “…land of geology in motion.” Flying into San Francisco or Oakland from the north, even an untrained eye can see the slash of the San Andreas Fault that separates Point Reyes from the mainland and forms the linear valley of the western reaches of the Gualala River, the main drainage in the northern part of the True. Most of the land is wild and rugged, shaped by forces that raised this portion of the California Coast Ranges beginning some three million years ago. At that time, several thousand miles of the Pacific Tectonic Plate had already slid beneath North America, renewing itself all the while through addition of new crustal material at the mid-ocean ridge. As the Pacific Plate plunged downward, the edge of the continent grazed its surface, acting like a giant earthmover, scraping off soft ocean floor sediments and breaking out chunks of hard ocean crust, plastering them onto the edge of the continent, forming a chaotic assemblage of diverse rock types — sand, silt, volcanic lavas and metamorphic schists — called the Franciscan Melange. Compressive forces associated in part with the San Andreas Fault raised these deposits into a series of ridges that lie parallel to the coast. The mixture of soft ocean sediments and hard chunks of crust forms a distinctive landscape, with smooth, soft-appearing slopes punctuated by hard, jagged, chunks of rock from a few to many tens of feet in extent. Sliced through by a variety of faults that parallel and cut across the hills, abrupt changes in bedrock create a patchwork of different soils. Commonly, they form only a thin cover over decaying bedrock, much of their original volume lost to post-logging erosion. David Hirsch maintains that without that loss he would be growing mushrooms in the vigorous humus derived from temperate rain forest.

To the south — between the Russian River and Bodega Highway, the southern border of the true Sonoma Coast — the land changes, from the steep and rugged hills and canyons of the north reaches of the True to a gentler, more rolling topography. Here grapes grow on the Wilson Grove Formation, rocks made of sand and silt derived from volcanic deposits that were forming between 3 and 8 million years ago in the eastern part of Sonoma and western part of Napa Counties. Over time, these sediments — particles of volcanic ash and lava — have weathered into Goldridge soils, well-drained material with just enough clay to maintain moisture during much of a long growing season. Wilson Grove sediments, and the associated Goldridge soils, also occur as ridge-top patches in the northern part of the True, where they support the vineyards of Peay, Hartford Court, Artesa, and others. While a single name, Goldridge, suggests a significant degree of uniformity, in reality these soils show considerable variability in texture and structure that seems to be reflected in the wines they produce.

Ted Lemon (Littorai Wines) came to the True in part because of the geology. He had traveled the west coast from Washington to Mexico, seeing many good small patches but concluding finally that there was no “holy ground” for Pinot Noir. Understanding the Earth dynamics that had formed the topography, Lemon imagined the Sonoma Coast as a deck of shuffled cards — layers of diverse geology creating an unpredictable mix of materials. He was intrigued, by the land and by the potential in the wines then being made. Together, they suggested a place with a future.

Most have come to the True, however, not for the distinctive geology but for a climate that promises to grow — for those with sufficient focus, dedication, and discipline — grapes that will produce the balance, structure, and intensity of great Burgundy in an American Pinot Noir. And from the evidence that is accumulating, winegrowers of just that type are producing wines that, more than a little, reflect the climatic promise. The key lies in a relationship between ocean and land that provides daytime temperatures 15 to 20 degrees (F) lower than those just a few miles inland, cool nights, and a long growing season that begins in February and ends in September or October.

The hills of the True rise from a coast that is bathed by the California Current, a southward moving stream of cold water that, together with dominant onshore winds, cools the adjacent land. These conditions also create a dense bank of coastal fog during the growing season. The ridges of the True lift most of the vineyards above that fog bank, exposing grapes to warm, often hot, days tempered by cool nights that allow the fruit to maintain acid levels that can produce wines of structure and backbone unusual in America.  The long, cool, growing season also promotes slow maturation that allows development of subtle qualities of aroma and nuance that set wines from the True apart from the more fruit driven style that so many Americans identify with Pinot Noir.

Rain is the biggest challenge. Periodically in the spring it arrives in monsoon-like waves, stripping vines of blossom and potential fruit, leaving paltry yields — in 2005 a mere half-ton per acre. More commonly, rain falls from January to March, 100 inches or more, enough volume to make this a land of temperate rain forest, reflected in the stands of towering Redwood and Douglas Fir. The soils, while generally porous and well drained, contain enough clay to store sufficient water to allow some to dry farm, others to come close to that goal, part of an ethic that stresses natural process and non-additive farming.

The People

            Looking northwest from David Hirsch’s vineyard, a flash of brilliant gold catches the eye on a ridge a couple of miles distant. It is the eighty foot high gold-leafed stupa at Odiyan, a Buddhist retreat and temple complex inspired and built by Tarthang Tulku Rinpoche, one of the first Tibetan Lamas to come to the United States after the Chinese invasion of Tibet in 1959. Tarthang Rinpoche arrived in Berkeley in 1969 and began building Odiyan in the 1970s on the first ridge above the Pacific. When asked what is unique about the true Sonoma Coast, Hirsch replies “The same thing that brought the Lama here, the power of the land, only seen from a viticultural and winemaking perspective.” The comment has a bit of a mystical cast, but primarily it reflects Hirsch’s deeply intuitive connection with the land. He says that he came here wanting to possess it, that it “…took a long time to shed my baggage, all the attitudes, concepts, and assumptions that I brought with me, and just learn from the land. I’m far more naïve, innocent and open than I was when we planted most of the vineyard in 1990. Eventually, we had to let the land possess us. If you’re going to develop a site, where do you go if you have a question? You have to refer to the site, let it talk to you over time.”

            Hirsch came to the True originally to grow trees; most of his colleagues came to grow grapes and make wine. They approached from a variety of directions but all with the same notion, to make Pinot Noir true to the cool climate character of the grape, emphasizing aromatics, nuance, and elegance within an envelope of power and intensity that does not overwhelm those more subtle qualities. A surprising number — including, by chance, most of those interviewed for this article — are originally from the east coast of the United States where they developed a familiarity with, and love for, French wine, particularly those of the Cote d’Or. Several — Ted Lemon, Eric Sussman, and Ehren Jordan among them — went on to apprentice in France. Lemon ended up as vineyard manager and winemaker at Domaine Guy Rulot of Meursault, the first American to be chosen for such a position. Burgundy is their model, but their inclination is to respect rather than emulate. As Eric Sussman puts it “I look to Old World reference points. Winegrowing requires a lot of detailed work but it takes mainly stepping back and letting a natural process happen on its own. So much in the world is no longer that way, we think we can do better so we tend to interfere. I’d like to preserve what others have shown me. Yes, it’s a different setting from where I was trained but I see it as just bringing what I have learned to a new platform.”

For the most part they are a soft-spoken group deeply committed to growing Pinot Noir that carries with it the essence of place, and vinifying it in a way that reveals the most accurate and intense expression of that essence. They speak of interfering as little as need be in natural processes that appear to work best when interfered with the least. Hirsch talks of being “Active in a responsive mode.” Sussman says that “The hardest thing is not to do anything, to step back and listen.” This approach — non-intervention — is as slippery and difficult to grasp as the Zen notion of the action of non-action. Neither expression conveys the experiential heart of the idea, which depends on highly focused awareness, mindful attention, and the courage to withdraw from the human tendency to attempt to control natural events. It is a concept particularly difficult to understand in the context of an endeavor — winegrowing — that requires multiple choices and decisions every day. As we take a brief look at what they do, remember that their actions are only the surface manifestation of a much deeper process and a way of knowing and working that, at its heart, is truly ineffable.

            These small production winegrowers — David Hirsch (Hirsch Vineyards), Ted Lemon (Littorai Wines), Nick Peay (Peay Vineyards), Ehren Jordan (Failla Wines), and Eric Sussman (Radio-Coteau) — are something of a maverick bunch, largely unconcerned with media coverage and content to limit their production to levels — less than 6,000 cases — that allow close contact with the land they farm or lease and the vineyards from which they buy grapes. They share a profound respect for the land, which they farm biodynamically, organically, or as close to those ideals as they think they can, given the demanding nature of a marginal climate. They believe strongly that irrigation and the use of manufactured chemical fertilizers seriously affect the expression of terroir. Their goal is to dry farm, but they irrigate to establish vineyards and get them through heat spikes that overly stress vines growing in well drained, low nutrient, soils. Eric Sussman, who presently buys grapes from small vineyards in the True and adjacent AVAs, spent two years scouting sites that had the potential to dry farm or use minimal irrigation, “…sites exposed to the elements in a manner that vines could grow without a lot of input.” Lemon farms his home vineyard and two others biodynamically, using compost made from a mix of plants — oats, barley, red rye, vetch, native radish and others — grown on his 30 acre “integrated farm.” For Ehren Jordan the difference between a good vineyard and a great one is “…as slim as the margin between a winner and loser in the Indianapolis 500.” The difference lies in the details, the aggregation of small acts such as removing lateral shoots in the fruit zone, seen by many growers as too much work for too little return.

            Nick Peay sounds abjectly apologetic when he speaks of periodically having to use pesticides, organic when they will suffice, always searching out the least harmful. Jordan farms organically to “create a healthy vineyard for myself — I work in it — as well as for my family, and my wines.” Many of them speak of working for the future, of preserving methods developed over centuries rather than moving too quickly to new, technology based approaches. As he gets to know his sites, Sussman feels increasingly less compelled to change anything unless absolutely necessary, wanting to “…maintain the pedigree of the site. You can always get more uniformity, but it’s also a choice to work with what you have, to express that personality. The hardest thing is to step back and listen — to the people who work the vineyards, the weather, the vines. You need to have great confidence in the process not to react quickly and interfere with the natural course of things.” These non-interventionists work in a different world from those who practice “precision farming” but their meticulous attention to detail — possible because they choose to limit their production — is perhaps the most precise of all.

            They have the luxury in the True of letting fruit hang and develop mature flavors without risking excessive ripeness — in most years they pick between 22 and 25 brix. “I look for balance and vibrancy,” says Sussman, “I want to capture freshness in the vineyard, and the site expression and complexity that tend to get lost in super-ripe fruit.” Sorting is painstaking, in the vineyard as well as before and sometimes after destemming. The choice of destemming or whole cluster fermentation depends on the year.

            They prefer native yeasts that encourage slow fermentation at lower temperatures and lead to interesting texture and more subtle, layered wines. When problems arise during fermentation, Jordan tends to walk away and let the wine “…work it out itself. You need to know what’s going on but also you need to avoid the tendency to validate your existence by doing something.” Sussman admits that “Stepping back, letting the wine do its thing is risky business. With each vineyard at the start I feel like I need to control everything, but each year it gets easier to let go.” He seeks to “…let the wine evolve naturally, with at most a gentle human fingerprint.”

Of Place and Wine

            On a regional scale, the True is known in part on the basis of wines from this small group of east coast Francophiles who chose the region for its potential to produce classically styled Pinot Noir. These wines are distinguished by their intensity and balance, by their fresh acidity, and by nuances of flavor and aroma not found in their richer cousins. But just across a small drainage from David Hirsch and on the same ridge sits Marcassin, the home vineyard of Helen Turley, who is known best perhaps for producing some of the Napa Valley’s most rich and powerful wines. Her Marcassin Pinot Noir and Chardonnay, available only to the members of a mailing list as closed as the latest hot hedge fund, reflect the same approach. They are reported to be big, fruit forward wines that wow the new world palate and get scores from the wine critics that, were they course grades, would win her every academic accolade at the most prestigious of universities. Turley also makes wine for Martinelli, whose Charles Ranch property abuts both Marcassin and Hirsch. The juxtaposition of Hirsch, who prizes his wines for their structure and acid balance, and Turley, with her focus on coaxing from the grape every drop of fruit that she reasonably can, reveals with sharp distinction that the True, cool as it might be, has the potential to manifest wines of diverse and contrasting styles. And so the stage is set for the next evolutionary step of a young terroir.

            A spate of new labels is due to arrive shortly from the True, the outcome of projects put in place by a variety of long-established California winemakers, mostly of modest size but including the ever-expanding Kendall-Jackson. Jason Pahlmeyer bought into the True after tasting Turley’s Pinot Noir. Brice Jones came after losing control of Sonoma Cutrer. Craig Williams, director of winemaking at Joseph Phelps, was looking originally for a few acres on which to grow Chardonnay to add new character to their Ovation label but ended up with 20 acres of that variety and 80 acres of Pinot Noir near the town of Freestone, adding a winery that will be home to their new Freestone label. Steve Kistler is nearby, on 20 acres near Occidental. How these, and other, newcomers will affect perception of the True awaits their first vintages, but they are California winemakers almost surely with a different perception of the potentials of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay than that of those who were weaned on the wines of the Cote D’Or. (Note, however, that Don Blackburn, winemaker for Brice Jones’s Emeritus Vineyards, was trained in Burgundy and Bordeaux).

The relationship between wine and place — the notion of terroir — is scale dependent, however, and the regional view is only the most general. A variety of efforts are now seeking to define place in the True on a finer scale. The most advanced is the petition for a Fort Ross-Seaview AVA, covering the mid-section of the True, the area just north of the Russian River inland from the coastal village of Fort Ross and near the tiny town of Seaview. Hirsch is in this area along with Failla, Marcassin, Martinelli, Flowers, Wild Hog, and a few others. In the north, another cluster of vineyards — including Peay, Hartford Court, Artessa, Brice Jones, and Pahlmeyer— surround the town of Annapolis. And south of the Russian River, near the towns of Occidental and Freestone, a third cluster includes Freestone, Sonoma Coast, Kistler, and several highly prized vineyards including Summa, planted in 1975, and Theriot. Most vineyards in each of these areas are only a few years into production, so attempts to identify defining characteristics of these three divisions of the True are premature at best.

            On the scale of individual vineyards, however, perceptions are beginning to focus and clarify. In addition to their defining acidity, Hirsch sees his wines as “brooding,” adding that some winemakers “…have not been able to handle…” the character of his fruit. Wines made from Hirsch fruit are often described as more tannic and masculine than those from vineyards such as Peay and Theriot. Lemon says that wines from Summa are “…rounder, lusher…” than those of Theriot, which are “…less tannic, more peppery with notes of orange peel.” The two vineyards are separated by a road and a few hundred feet; both are on Goldridge soils. In 2005, Vanessa Wong, winemaker at Peay (and married to Nick Peay) decided that areas within their 33 acres of Pinot Noir (out of 48 total planted) had developed enough distinctive character to warrant two bottlings rather than a vineyard blend — the vines were planted in 1998. With one or two exceptions, the oldest vines in the True date back to just 1990; many are a decade or so younger than that. The general expectation is that with time and older vines, tannin profiles will evolve and the wines will become more complex, with greater depth and distinction.

            The complexity of terroir, however, can prove daunting. Recent detailed soil studies at Hirsch, undertaken while he extended his plantings to a total of 72 acres, revealed such extreme variation that Hirsch has now defined some 25 blocks, some with sub-blocks as small as one fifth of an acre. He intends to continue to vinify the sub-

blocks separately, blending to find the most distinctive and characteristic wine the property can produce. In 2005, the blend of all lots seemed to be the best but he and his winemaker thought they might achieve something spectacular by eliminating the least enticing barrels. After several attempts, they gave up — the final wine contained elements from every lot.

Some Final Remarks

            The true Sonoma Coast is an edgy and risky place. At Freestone Vineyards, low enough in elevation to be caught in the morning fog, Craig Williams works with vines planted on slopes about 8 miles from the ocean, at a gap in the coastal hills formed by the Salmon Creek drainage. Strong winds from the ocean blow through the gap, making it one of the coolest spots in the True. Williams was worried about the ability to ripen fruit under these conditions, but he has seen consistent production of mature grapes at 25 brix or less. But difficulties remain — they have had to develop vineyard management techniques to prevent infection with the mildew and fungus that thrive in the cool and moist conditions. Williams imagines that the best vintages will be limited in number, perhaps 3 or 4 out of ten, but of a quality that will seduce the memory and allow the lesser years to disappear into some black hole of the mind. Up on the ridges, above the fog, the gamble is not quite so stark, but everyone in the True knows that they have chosen a place in which quality depends on a clear eye and persistent vigilance; under these demanding conditions, even a minor distraction can lead to a loss of quality sufficient to preclude the heights they seek.

One project to watch is focused on Balistreri vineyard, less than a mile west of the town of Freestone, on the lower slopes of the hills and the flat land adjacent to Salmon Creek. Many consider these low elevations too cold even for Pinot Noir, but Sonoma Coast Vineyards has chosen Balistreri as their home vineyard and has produced from it several vintages of lean, tightly structured Pinot Noir more than reminiscent of good Burgundy. Balistreri, in its extreme climatic position, may be a bellwhether to climate change in the True. Ted Lemon wonders how long the exceptionally cool conditions of the True will continue to hold. As climate continues to warm, will he be able to produce Pinot Noir of the character he seeks five years from now? Ten? If not, he is ready to bud over to other varieties, most likely the more adaptable Syrah, rather than move north to British Columbia. Ehren Jordan thinks that in his lifetime he will not be faced with these decisions. Extreme sites such as Balistreri might provide early signs of marked change. On the other hand, Sonoma Coast winemaker Anthony Austin — a Californian to the core — is entirely ready to acidify if that’s what’s needed to produce the structure he seeks, in which case how would we know?

            The True is a relatively small area with a topography and climate that limit the area suitable for high quality vineyards, but these are not the only controls on future development. Residents of the True prize their isolation and quiet — they have become increasingly active in the effort to limit development even for vineyards that do not attract many visitors. Permits require months or years of time, mounds of paperwork, and the expense of the lawyers who are needed to sort through and understand the byzantine environmental and zoning regulations. These conditions have discouraged several vineyard owners from expanding and others, no doubt, from considering coming to the True. It’s difficult to imagine, however, a wine region of such obvious potential not continuing to grow. If the wines due to come on line soon match or exceed in quality those already being produced, surely the motivation will be in place for others to overcome the obstacles in order to try their hand at producing the still elusive great American Pinot Noir.

Acknowledgements

My thanks go to Terry Wright, formerly of Sonoma State University, for sharing with me his knowledge of the geology of Sonoma County, on which the descriptions herein are partly based. John Haeger’s “North American Pinot Noir” served as a fine initial guide to the True. Most of all, I express my appreciation to those who took time from demanding schedules to meet and talk with me. If American Pinot Noir is ever to achieve broad recognition as being of great quality, it might well come first from this focused and determined group.

 

Wineries of focus in this article:

 

Hirsch Vineyards, David Hirsch (www.hirschvineyards.com)

Peay Vineyards, Nick and Andy Peay, Vanessa Wong (www.peayvineyards.com)

Failla Wines, Ehren Jordan (www.faillawines.com)

Littorai Wines, Ted Lemon (www.littorai.com)

Radio-Coteau, Eric Sussman (www.radiocoteau.com)

Sonoma Coast Vineyards (www.sonomacoastvineyards.com)

Freestone Wines (see www.jpvwines.com)