One more time . . .
I arrived in the Carolina mountains in time to see the snow melt fill the creeks and feel the warm winds of spring.
A brief stop in Atlanta on Saturday to visit with Mike Evans and friends got this next wine tour off to a fine start for me. Among the casualties of Saturday night were a couple of Giacosa, Barolos from the ’89 and ’90 vintages among many assorted fine red Italian treats. But my favorite wine of the night was a single vineyard, late-harvest Soave which I think I drained (not that everyone else didn’t have their chance, but I think they were more interested in the reds). White Italians – I learn something new everyday.
Bob will be over Tuesday night and then, Wednesday morning, we head north to New England for about three weeks of imposing ourselves on others with an at the door greeting of “Hi, we’re here to drink your food and eat your wine; can we come in?”
We are proof positive that there are some very good hearted people who frequent these boards.
This is the third year running the Colonel and I have struck out to see America through blood-shot eyes. Two years ago, it was the Midwest; last year, the far west; and this year its Red Sox, Philly steaks and a New York state of mind on the agenda.
Bob will be your faithful scribe and will also carryout the navigator duties as he has in the past. I don’t write much along the way - participation over observation – though, I’ll have a few comments at the end.
But, for me, these treks have become more about the people than the wine. And, God, this country is something to see.
So, the truck is ready to go, the good stuff is packed and we are prepped for another opportunity to make being retired the finest thing either of us could imagine. We look forward to putting names with faces and experiencing, first hand, this community we all talk about.
Man, I just love this stuff.