Colorado Getaway

Terroir. That’s what the French call it, right? I bite a faceful of dusty Colorado soil and come up with a huge grin. Brushing myself off and collecting my mountain bike from out of the sagebrush, I carry my full-suspension rig past the rock drops that bucked me off and mount up for a re do. Whatever the extraordinary nature here of the terroir-that complex combination of soil, microclimate and topography that oenophiles go on about-it still took a human hand to sculpt it into this elaborate trail. I take a moment to appreciate the desert canyon views and give silent thanks to those who cultivated the earth to bear such lush single-track fruit.

The vineyards of Grand Junction, Colorado

Colorado is internationally renowned for its mountain biking: Crested Butte, Durango, Telluride are all pilgrimage-worthy destinations. And here where I am, near Grand Junction, are two areas on that ultimate tick list: Fruita and the Lunch Loop trails. But it isn’t just the riding that brings me to the western edge of this Four Corners state-it’s also that other product of its fine terroir, the one that’s earning some favourable buzz as a respectable emerging wine region.
A couple of days earlier, I sit down to dinner in Grand Junction and meet some local winemakers. Nancy Janes of Whitewater Hill Vineyards raves about the calzones that her husband John makes on their hut-to-hut backcountry ski tours. Nancy herself looks tough enough to haul in some fine bottlings for pairing. Glenn Foster of Talon Winery, who looks like Ron Howard with more hair, prefers falconry to the standard Colorado skiing, biking or paddling. He’s from California and the son of the Ravenswood Winery founder, W. Reed Foster. His sales manager, Pat Kennedy, is a native of Colorado and, as it turns out, a former executive of the Colorado Plateau Mountain Bike Trail Association.

Over the past 20 years, the group built and maintained 75 trails-more than 1,500 miles-across Western Colorado. It was also about 20 years ago that the Grand Valley gained the coveted AVA (American Viticultural Area) designation. Before that this terroir was just dirt. No one rode it. Vines were a novelty. The wine industry in Colorado had long been decimated by Prohibition. But by the late 1970s, vineyards had reemerged and fat tires made bold forays over the landscape. By the mid 1990s there were a handful of wineries in the Grand Valley and around a dozen in the entire state. Now there are almost 100 in Colorado, with about a third of those situated in the valley. The state had bypassed its historical high point of grape production since before Prohibition-nearly three million pounds (still a blip compared to California, Washington or Oregon).
The next morning, I’m met by my cheery blond guide, Jennifer, and we head out on rented cruisers to hit the wineries of the Palisades, an area 20 minutes east of Grand Junction along the Colorado River. The sky is azure, the vineyards leafy green and the surrounding mesas desert-sandstone red. As I learn later, the 2,000-foot Book Cliffs to the north aren’t just a pretty part of the landscape. Their faces radiate heat, fuelling warm "million-dollar breeze" that sweeps down into the valley, so called because it keeps frost at bay to yield an extra two weeks of growing season.

We spend the morning spinning between a few of the area’s highlights: Plum Creek, Garfield Estates and Grande River Vineyards, all an easy ride from each other. The tropical fruit notes of the viogniers and citrus palate rieslings, the soft-tannin cab francs and intensely spicy syrahs blend together to form one lush sensory memory.

Paonia history

One afternoon, I make the 50-mile journey to the other major wine region in Colorado, the West Elks AVA, fed by the north fork of the Gunnison River. I pass through rocky desolation, then onto side roads with signs well ventilated by shotgun blasts. "What we call crossing the moon," says Anna Hanson, of Jack Rabbit Hill Winery and Peak Spirits Distillery. "People on the highway to Aspen can’t believe that we grow grapes here." But vines flourish in the hills, where Hanson and her husband operate a 70-acre farm turning out biodynamic wines, vodka, dry gin and eau de vie. These are some of the highest vineyards in the world, and the differential between cool nights and warm days allows sugars to develop and the acidity to catch up. The growing areas are small: the production for their 1,500 cases of wine is done in Hanson’s basement, and tastings take place on their front porch overlooking the vineyards, with the chirp of crickets and warble of meadowlarks.

Twenty-five miles east is the epicentre of change in the area. In Colorado political terms Paonia is a bright blue gem in a region of red. The former coal mining community is now a hotbed of both culture and agriculture. Orchards grow remarkably sweet peaches, cherries, apples and…other crops. (Paonia Purple made the High Times list of top 10 strains back in the 1970s.) The town of 1,600 is home to a couple of Nobel Laureates, a good number of artists, and such highly regarded winemakers as Eames Petersen of Alfred Eames Cellars, Bill Musgnung of Bethlehem Cellars and Brent Helleckson from Stone Cottage. Visitors are in distinct danger of becoming residents, as the community tends to draw in like-minded people attracted by this version of utopia and land of plenty.

Slow food and great wine

Birds of a feather flock together and tonight they’ve come to roost in the garden of Dava Parr, proprietor of Fresh & Wyld Farmhouse Inn. Parr, a chef with over 25 years of experience under her apron, has converted this century-old farmhouse into a vibrant seven-room B&B, complete with its own produce garden. Many in this party of slow-food fanatics and small-batch wine producers have moved here from various parts of the country for what this land and community have to offer. Which, I discover, includes some exceptional single-track carved into the hills nearby.

But I have an appointment back in the Grand Valley on my last day in Colorado, a final tasting tour, this time on knobby tires. I sample some of the best riding that this land has to offer: Horsethief Bench near Fruita, Free Lunch and Holy Cross in the Lunch Loop. It’s a tornado tour and I rush to the airport, laden with bottles and fresh bruises, and some of this area under my skin. Not just the dirt embedded in my trail rash, but a new appreciation for the alchemy of these people and this place. wl