You have a very unique opportunity to get involved in the wine industry here in Arizona. If you haven't noticed, there are wineries popping up all over the state and there is no hotter area than the Kansas Settlement located around Willcox. Right now, thanks to the economy, prime vineyard acreage is still extremely reasonable - but that will not remain the case for long. But don't take our word for it, I've copied a fantastic article published on the AZCENTRAL.COM website on November 2, 2009.
Dick Erath confident Arizona wine can excel
by
Richard Ruelas - Nov. 2, 2009 02:08 PM
The Arizona RepublicArizona attracts retirees, and Dick Erath, who was a pioneer in
creating Oregon's billion-dollar wine industry, had certainly earned
the right to relax in his Green Valley home and enjoy the fruits of his
vineyard labor.
But Arizona also attracts those seeking reinvention, and that's the
path Erath chose, both for himself and the land around him. Erath
bought a plot of desert in a remote section of southeastern Arizona and
started growing grapes on it.
"I like a challenge," the 74-year-old said with a twinkling smile. "And you get them here."
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Erath started coming to Arizona in the early 1990s to escape the
rain in Oregon. The idea of growing wine grapes here seemed impossible.
But, over time, he studied the terrain and soil and became convinced
southeastern Arizona provided one of the planet's best climates for
grape growing.
He feels blessed by the vines, but he also is helping the area by
his mere presence. Other Arizona winemakers believe the Erath name -
recognizable from wine bottles stocked on grocery-store shelves
nationwide - could help convince the wine world that Arizona wine is
worthwhile.
In Arizona, Erath sees hints of what he saw in Oregon during its
initial years as a wine producer. It's a largely undiscovered growing
region that has the potential to produce wines coveted for their unique
flavors and textures. Just as a serious wine list now must include an
Oregon Pinot Noir, within the decade, he predicts, those lists will
have to include an Arizona wine as well.
"We're just scratching the surface here," he said.
Arizona has produced wines commercially since the 1970s, but the
quality began improving significantly in the early 1990s, after wine
from Callaghan Vineyards in Elgin was praised by noted wine critic
Robert Parker.
There now are more than 30 wineries in the state, from the high
country up north to the grasslands of southeastern Arizona. Wines from
Arizona have been poured in the White House and have earned praise by
national wine magazines.
Just a gimmick?
Still, the state suffers under a stigma: the notion that wine can't
be made in the desert. That Arizona wine is a gimmick that belongs in
the gift shop with the scorpions embedded in Lucite. That it's a
novelty, like pineapple wine in Hawaii or blackberry wine in Tennessee.
The state's winemakers say even Arizona residents register skepticism
that good wine can be had so close to home.
For those wine snobs, hearing that Erath - the man whose elegant
Pinot Noirs have been lavished with praise - has chosen an area near
humble Willcox for his vineyard could get their attention.
"Maybe in some small way I can help out this area," Erath said.
Erath still spends his summers in the Dundee Hills of western
Oregon, which means he misses the Arizona growing season. When he
landed in Arizona in late August, it was time for the 2009 harvest, and
Erath wandered through his Cimarron Vineyards, located in the farming
community of Kansas Settlement, to see how his grapes were doing.
He was dressed in a denim shirt and blue jeans, shielded from the
intense early-morning sun by a beige hat. He plucked a purple grape off
a vine, put it in his mouth and chewed. His face held a look of
concentration.
He later described his grape-tasting routine: hold the grape against
the palate with the tongue, break it to taste the juice, then chew the
skin. He declared the grape ready to be picked.
"Intense flavor," he said, spitting the seed into his hand for
inspection. The grape was a Montepulciano, an Italian variety. "We
probably want to plant more of this one."
Erath stands more than 6 feet tall but walks in a perpetual stoop
through his vineyards, so his head is always just beneath the canopy
created by the leaves on the grapevines.
His hands reached quickly to snag a grape to taste. It was a
Tempranillo, the grape that Erath thinks has the best potential in
Arizona's harsh climate.
"They taste like they have a lot of sugar," he said after his sample, "but not a lot of flavor."
Learning the way
Walking alongside Erath was Todd Bostock, 32, owner of Dos Cabezas
WineWorks in Sonoita, who has agreed to make wine out of Erath's
grapes. Bostock had the vineyard map that showed the dozen or more
varieties of grapes planted in Erath's 40 acres. He also was quietly
soaking up Erath's vineyard knowledge.
"He's a problem solver," Bostock said. "You come to him with an
issue and, two days later, he'll say he's been thinking about it. . . .
'This is what your problem is and here's what I would do.' "
Erath has had plenty of problems of his own to solve on his new Arizona vineyard, which he bought in 2004 and planted in 2006.
First, his vineyard manager, Juan Alba, told Erath he was having a problem with rattlesnakes.
"The reason the snakes are here is we have all these little ground
squirrels," Erath said. "So we'll put in an owl's nest, and the owls
will eat the ground squirrels and the snake population won't explode on
us."
The owls' nests, wooden boxes perched high on poles, are all occupied, Erath said. He's now installing more.
There also were the rabbits, which had been munching on the bark of mesquite trees.
"All of a sudden, they wake up one morning and dine on grapevines,"
Erath said. "They think, 'My God, this is heaven on Earth. Call
everyone in the county.' "
The 2-foot-tall rabbit fence went up shortly afterward, but a new problem emerged.
"It was a dry spring," Erath said, "and a herd of 14 deer started roaming through, saying, 'Wow, this tastes good, too.' "
The 8-foot-tall deer fence followed.
Timing is all
On this day in late August, the harvest was Sangiovese grapes.
Bostock, clad in shorts and a ball cap, brought some freshly cut grapes
to Erath.
Bostock wondered whether he should have waited a little longer to pick.
"It's a good color, and they're popping right off (the cluster)," he said.
An analysis of the sugar level also showed the grapes were ready.
But these grapes didn't leave a telltale stain on the stem when
removed, as do other ripe grapes.
"So how long do you wait?" Bostock asked.
Erath popped one in his mouth. It tasted promising.
"Maybe they don't do much staining on the stem," he said. "It's not a high-pigment variety anyhow."
Erath has high hopes for Sangiovese grown in Arizona.
"I call the Sangiovese sort of like the Oregon Pinot (noir). It makes a more elegant wine," he said.
He spit out the seeds and skins and inspected them before brushing them off his hands.
"Well," he said, "I don't have much experience with them."
Erath bottled his first wine made entirely with Arizona-grown grapes
in May. It's under his Cimarron label and called Monsoon Red. And
although Erath made this wine to be fun and simple, it garnered 85
points in Wine Spectator magazine.
Erath expects his age-worthy bottles will be phenomenal.
"I'm very enthusiastic about what's going on down here," he said.
Widely respected
And other Arizona winemakers are enthusiastic about Erath's new venture.
"I about fell down," said Rod Snapp, owner of Javelina Leap winery
in Cornville and vice president of the Arizona Wine Growers
Association. "Dick Erath picked us? ... It's like, 'God bless you,
Dick.' "
Snapp said winemakers already felt fortunate that Maynard James
Keenan, the lead singer of the hard-rock band Tool, had become a
vintner in Arizona. He has the name, and resources, to sell wine
nationally and generate publicity.
In a similar way, Snapp said, the state can benefit from Erath's reputation.
"We got a wine star," he said. "We've got Dick Erath."
Erath, before he became a noted winemaker, was an electronics
engineer in California. He acquired grapes from a friend who had a
vineyard in Oregon's Willamette Valley and made his first barrel in his
garage in 1965. That's when he became a believer that Oregon could
produce world-class wines.
Three years later, he planted a vineyard in the Dundee Hills. Within
two decades, the region was ripe with vineyards, as his Pinot noir
gained critical acclaim. His 1984 bottling was named best in America by
Wine and Spirits magazine.
But the transplanted Californian grew weary of Oregon's rainy skies.
A cousin who had retired to Sun City West invited Erath to visit and
enjoy the sunshine. He took her up on the offer in 1991, stopping off
at the Phoenician resort for an event put on by area wine distributors.
Although he liked the weather, "I didn't like Phoenix," he said. "It was too big a place for me."
He favored the Tucson area.
"Tucson reminded me of Portland," he said. "Same kind of town (that) you could get your arms around."
Sunshine prescription
He kept coming back to Arizona when he needed relief from the rain.
In 1995, he bought a house, where he planted his first vines.
"I kept looking at this blank wall in my backyard," he said, "and
there's nothing growing against this wall. I've got to do something.
Everybody else is putting in flowers and stuff."
In 1997, Erath planted six vines of Sangiovese grapes, two
Zinfandels and one Nebbiolo. He made some wine out of it and became
intrigued.
"I got interested in why weren't people growing wine down here," he said. "I found out there were some small wineries."
He said he wasn't too impressed with what he tasted. Most of the
wineries, he said, were growing Chardonnay and Merlot grapes because
that's what sold in the supermarket.
At one farm, he remembered, he asked a worker about the vineyards.
"And he said, 'Oh yeah, we've got these grape bushes here,' " Erath recalled. "I said, 'Whoa, I'm in trouble now.' "
Sarcasm aside, Erath was impressed by the soil, the climate and the terrain of southern Arizona.
Plunging in
That same year, he discovered a test vineyard and winery operated in
Tucson by the University of Arizona, under the direction of Professor
Mike Kilby. He also met Frank DiChristofano, who was working with Kilby
at the UA project and making his own wine in his backyard.
By 2004, Erath wanted to start an experimental vineyard. He asked
Kilby to help him find land. Kilby took him out to Kansas Settlement,
where Erath took the first piece of property Kilby showed him. It was a
slope with good soil and a natural wind pattern that would hold off
frost.
"You're not going to find a better place," Kilby told Erath.
The vineyard, Kilby said, might be small by California or Oregon
standards, but at 40 acres it was one of the largest in Arizona.
Kilby said he had known Erath only by his name on the bottle but was excited that he was looking to come to Arizona.
"It was like, 'Dick Erath wants to come here, woo hoo,' that type of thing," he said. "It really gave us a boost."
Rise in land prices
Once Erath bought, land prices in the area went up.
"Which is kind of nuts," Erath said. "I haven't done anything. I'm
trying to do something, but I haven't. I can't say I've proven the
area."
Erath said his initial vineyard in Oregon was done, by necessity, on the cheap and with some improvisation.
"I had $7,000 in my pocket and I had to do everything from scratch," he said.
This time, though, he has the resources to apply three decades of knowledge into his Arizona vineyard.
Erath sold his namesake winery to mega-winemaker Chateau St.
Michelle in 2005. The wine world had seen an increase in Pinot Noir
sales following the success of the 2004 Oscar-winning film "Sideways,"
and Chateau St. Michelle had none in its portfolio.
"After I sold the winery, I had a few bucks, and I thought I could
come down here and do things right," Erath said. "Do the right systems
and don't take any shortcuts and see what we can come up with."
Unlike his Oregon wines, Erath doesn't expect his Arizona-grown
Cimarron wine to be nationally distributed to grocery stores. He wants
his winery to remain small but desired.
"Notable," he said.
Oregon upside down
Erath is continuing to experiment with what grows well in Arizona's desert climate.
"You take everything you learned in Oregon and turn it upside down,"
Erath said. "You try to figure out how to extrapolate it to Arizona."
One thing he quickly learned: His beloved Pinot noir, the grape that
put Oregon, and himself, on the wine map, was not going to work in
Arizona.
"It ripens too early," Erath said. "High sugars, not much flavor."
In Oregon, Erath figured out what would grow by looking at other hilly, wet climates.
"I spent a lot of time in France and Germany and Alsace to see how they grow the varietals there," he said.
So for Arizona, he started looking at hot places: southern France, Spain, Chile and Argentina.
"You're selecting a grape variety that will fit the growing season
you have," Erath said. He has tried several varieties new to Arizona,
including Tinta cao, Souzao and Picpoul blanc.
Once a grape starts maturing, Erath said, the acids inside it fall and the sugars rise.
"If that all goes very fast, the flavors seem not to develop very well," he said.
The idea is to get the grape to ripen slowly, over the summer months of the growing season.
"Think about simmering something on the stove for a long time," he said.
The area tucked between the Dos Cabezas and Dragoon Mountains, bordering the Willcox Playa, provides just that simmer.
"Those mountains were probably 25,000 feet," Erath said. "They've eroded down and made all this."
The land slopes slowly, Erath said. When heavy summer rains come, water roars across his land but drains quickly.
Ripe with possibility
Erath's vineyard has neighbors. Across the fence is Arizona
Stronghold Vineyard, planted by Eric Glomski of Page Springs Cellars,
in collaboration with Keenan and his Caduceus label. Across the way is
Sam Pillsbury's vineyard and winery. Down a dirt road is Sweet Sunrise
Vineyard, which provides grapes to the Canelo Hills winery in Elgin.
It feels familiar. It's just like the Dundee Hills of Oregon. The state feels ripe with possibility.
For now, most state wineries are remaining small, making a profit by
selling to mainly Arizona residents who venture out to the tasting
rooms. But a decade from now, Erath said, the area could see
large-scale vineyards growing acres of Tempranillo "or whatever we get
going," he said.
Erath's original plan was to buy 240 acres in conjunction with a
partner, but that didn't work out. So Erath tapped Bostock to make his
wine.
Quick learner
Bostock, a Phoenix native, started as an apprentice at Dos Cabezas.
He remembered bagging some dirt for Erath because the legendary vintner
wanted to take it back to Oregon and test it out.
"It's exciting," Bostock said. "He was supposed to retire, but he couldn't help it."
Bostock had worked at Dos Cabezas for just eight months when
DiChristofano left. Bostock, who had made only one batch of wine
before, found himself the chief winemaker. A few years later, his
family bought the Dos Cabezas name, the equipment and the barrels of
wine Bostock had made. Bostock found himself owning a winery much
sooner than he had expected. And, now, that winery is processing grapes
planted by Dick Erath.
This day's harvest is put in covered bins to keep cool and trucked from Willcox to Bostock's winery in Sonoita.
As the grape clusters tumble in a de-stemming machine, Erath leans
on a bin, watching the machine spin the grapes free. A fine mist of
grape juice rises toward his face.
"This is satisfaction," he said. "Seeing things like this happen."
He isn't referring to the empty clusters shooting out of the
machine, but to the growing number of people growing grapes and
producing wine all around him.
"Not a lot of people take Arizona wine seriously," he said, with a broad smile. "I take it seriously."