I remember the first wine trip the husband and I took. We were barely 21, easily intimidated and had no clue what we were doing. But we liked tasting wines, seeing the beautiful vineyards, and road trips. So we started going regularly, with our friend, the official wine-tasting third-wheel. And pretty soon, we had a system down -- where to stay, where to eat, what music to listen to, what snacks to bring (gold fishes are a favorite), and how to charm the pourers into bringing out their reserves. The three of us, we ruled the tasting rooms.
But with time, things changed. Our palates, our friends, our expectations. With our third-wheel moving out of state, wine tasting also moved on. New friends, new routes, new wineries. Although the mission of wine tasting is still intact -- have fun, drink wine -- and we do this well, I do get nostalgic for the feel of the trips with our third-wheel friend. All this reflection is probably due to my recent aging milestone, but whatever the reason, I do miss our friend.
And now back to present-day wine tasting. Paso Robles is beautiful in the Spring. Green and warm, with fake-looking skies of cottony clouds. We usually stay in Cambria, on the water, where it's cool and foggy, and the lagoon monster, that only the husband has laid eyes on, lurks. This trip, I got a chance to explore the seashore, late at night and early in the morning, and the coast is painfully breathtaking -- scary and stunning at the same time.
The last few times, we've traveled new roads to new vineyards, shielded by shade, and surrounded by melancholy walnut trees, covered in droopy, grey moss. My new favorite part of the trips is seeing these trees, fuzzy and motionless, standing their ground.
Below are photos from a recent trip; new memories for nostalgia down the road.
Cruisin' in the Benz.
A new favorite, Sea Chest Oyster Bar.