This is a hike to the Windy Oaks Estate Vineyard & Winery within the foothills of the Santa Cruz Mountains, a journey that features walking through damp forest with coastal mist. Northern California was hit by storms this winter, and at one point along the best way, a little bit of asphalt fell right into a soggy stream. A carpet of moss covered a stone bridge in-built 1939, and its markings at the moment are barely legible. It was as if nature had chosen its way back. The oak trees and picket fences—even the old parked motorcycle—were eaten away by lichen.
But beyond the mottled sequoias and moss-covered oaks, rows of vines appeared on the sunny hillside of Corralitos, where windy oaks it was built on a former apple orchard with stunning views of Monterey Bay. Windy Oaks is one among the growing mosaic of vineyards an hour’s drive south of Silicon Valley that produce and serve the estate’s award-winning chardonnay, pinot noir and other vintages. If winemakers within the Sonoma and Napa Valleys further north are seen as sophisticated siblings, the wineries within the triangle formed by the towns of Corralitos, Morgan Hill and Hollister are their relaxed rural cousins. They are related to one another, but each has their very own quirks.
There is an idyllic charm to those less traveled alleys. Local beekeepers sell honey from the back of semi-trucks. Bags of Meyer lemons, $5 each, are stacked in self-service roadside lockers. Goats graze almost in every single place. And should you take a mistaken turn, you could find yourself in Gizdi Ranch in Watsonville, where you possibly can pick your personal blueberries and eat a slice of apricot pie.
But most of all, newcomers are delighted that the rowdy tourist buses that clog the Silverado Trail in Napa Valley in the summertime don’t exist here. This means you possibly can enjoy a peaceful picnic in the course of the vineyard. Who knows? Maybe the server pouring the wine that day is perhaps the winemaker herself.
In Windy Oaks, I used to be greeted by Cookies, a stout cat who followed me to a table at the sting of a row of vines. Two couples arrived before me and ready a feast of cheese and sausages Corralitos Market & Sausage Co. One of the picnickers offered me a Polish sausage, wealthy and peppery, that paired nicely with the 2020 Henry’s Block pinot noir I used to be tasting.
In 2001, Windy Oaks founder Jim Schultze and his wife Judy released their first 36 cases of pinot noir. The Henry block I sampled got here from the unique three-acre vineyard planted in 1996 and named after Judy’s father. The Schultzes now farm 27 acres and produce 5,000 cases of wine a 12 months, buying grapes from nearby Monterey County to make up for what they do not grow.
My waitress, Elaine, took her time explaining that the grapes had been processed with minimal intervention as is finished in Burgundy. As a bonus, she offered me a tasting that shouldn’t be on the menu: Judy’s Block estate pinot noir from 2018. Grown on half an acre and aged in a single barrel, only 24 cases of this wine have been produced. (It costs $110 per bottle.) I purchased a sparkling pinot noir and after one last massage of Cookie’s tummy I went to the highest of the hill where I watched the sailboats exit to sea.
About 20 miles east of Corralitos, along the southernmost tip of the Santa Clara Valley, group of vineyards is sandwiched between Gilroy and Morgan Hill – from small businesses to award-winning professionals. In the mid-nineteenth century, the valley was outstanding producer from grapes. However, a long time later, most of the local vineyards were devastated by phylloxera, an aphid-like insect that devours the roots and leaves of the vine. Farmers switched to growing plums and apricots within the twentieth century, in addition to garlic and tomatoes, before urban sprawl and later Silicon Valley displaced most farms. However, there are still wine-producing areas.
A recent wine cooperative opened in Gilroy in 2021 to cater to a growing class of local vintners. It was founded by Tim Slater, the owner Sara’s vineyard, which sits at the bottom of Madonna Mountain, a preferred mountaineering destination with 200-foot-tall redwood trees and miles of wooded trails. Sarah was in-built a low valley where the spring green fields turn crisp and golden in July. Breezes blowing from the Pacific Ocean cool the nice and cozy inland air, allowing the grapes to develop.
Sarah’s was busy once I arrived on a Sunday and a lot of the 15 or so tables were filled with groups or families. Father and son were playing bocce on a close-by field while the 2 girls sat quietly on the table with their parents, eating carrots and coloring books. I ordered a $30 reserve flight which included 4 red wines: two pinot noirs, a cabernet sauvignon, and Sarah’s Nuit d’Enfer, a mix of cabernet franc and merlot.
Service was stalling though, so I asked my waiter to bring all 4 wines at the identical time. And a few of the staff seemed unprepared to reply even basic questions based on basic wine notes. Even so, the flight was quite expensive and the views of the valley were lovely.
And Geoff and Chantelle Mace, the owners Calerrain wines, greeted guests last Saturday at their tasting room in the course of a tiny vineyard just outside Gilroy. Mr. Mace offered to pour 2021 pinot noir from grapes grown within the Paicines area, about 55 miles away. Like many local vintners, Mr. Mace sources grapes from growers in several regions and produces his own wine.
Perhaps it was the flowers Mr Mace said they’d recently planted, or perhaps since the tasting room is behind the home where he and his wife live, however the experience jogged my memory of rustic family vineyards I visited in southern Italy.
About 10 miles away, the tasting room at ul Lightpost Winery in Morgan Hill might be present in a boring office park. But what it lacked in a pastoral atmosphere it made up for in mental stature. There I met Sofia Fedotova, an electronics recycling entrepreneur who made his money in technology before becoming a winemaker. In 2018, she opened Lightpost and partnered with Christian Roguenant, who grew up in Burgundy and is Lightpost’s principal winemaker.
Lightpost established a vineyard in Morgan Hill seven years ago, but for now harvests grapes primarily from growers within the Santa Cruz, Monterey, San Luis Obispo, Russian River and Paso Robles regions. Mrs. Fedotova poured me a taste of her favorite cabernet sauvignon. We discussed what to serve it with (she said steak, I suggested lamb grill) and for the subsequent 20 minutes we discussed the region’s weather conditions, soil chemistry, and the challenges of farming in today’s climate.
Of course, one would expect a vintner to know more in regards to the area than the typical visitor. But the staff was equally competent. Vivian, the manager of the tasting room, also gave us an impromptu lesson by comparing the differences between grapes side by side by vintage. A bigger, more corporate tasting room could be hard to spare. The young vineyard is already attracting attention; his reserve 2018 Cabernet Sauvignon from Paso Robles won state competitions. A friend and I stayed for nearly two hours and between us we left with three bottles of their 2018 La Grande Sofi Sparkling Rose ($44 each).
Bay Area wine lovers who enterprise this far south are sometimes on the go Calera Wine Co. in Hollister, a pioneer of American pinot noir. In 1974, Josh Jensen bought a limestone-rich plot near Mount Harlan in San Benito County. His wine mentors in France told him that Pinot Noir and Chardonnay grapes needed a lime-rich soil to supply truly great wines. In 1975, he began with 24 acres of pinot noir on three separate plots, naming each plot to indicate that they might produce their very own distinct wines.
The winery was built midway between the Harlan and Hollister Mountains, within the foothills of the Gabilan Mountains. To get there, I drove across the straw plains east of Highway 101, where cows grazed and patches of yellow mustard and Queen Anne lace brightened the awful landscape. The mood modified as I drove through the foothills to Calera. A ribbon of oaks snaked down the sunken valley. Hawks soared high within the sky. In East of Eden, John Steinbeck described the Gabilan Mountains as “filled with sunshine, beauty, and a form of invitation.” The winery was inviting.
Calera had a more polished, corporate feel than other wineries I’ve visited. This is probably not a surprise as Mr. Jensen sold Calera to Duckhorn Portfolio in 2017, which owns several other well-known Californian vineyards. (He died last 12 months.) I took a seat on the porch overlooking the lake, next to a few who said they arrive every Sunday for a glass of wine. The breeze smelled of fresh hay and wildflowers; blue jays flew under the wisteria cover. It was blissfully quiet. No cars. No mindless conversations or beeping cell phones. Only the soulful cawing of a crow in the gap.
The waiter delivered five glasses stacked on a metal tree to my table together with a sheet of tasting notes that explained each wine. I enjoyed the chenin blanc, nevertheless it was the pinot noir (as you’d expect) that basically stood out. As I drank the last sip, about three dozen sparrows flew right into a nearby bush, jumping and flapping their wings, vying for space on the pencil-thin branches. I believe I finally found the cork.
Follow New York Times Travel ON Instagram AND subscribe to our weekly Travel Dispatch newsletter for expert advice on traveling smarter and inspiration on your next vacation. Are you dreaming of a future trip or simply traveling in an armchair? Check out ours 52 places to go to in 2023.
