Last week, I briefly chronicled my history with Freeman Winery and Vineyard in Sebastopol, California. I have been going there off and on for close to twenty years now, and about halfway through, I found out that the winery’s namesake (or at least half of it), Ken Freeman, is an avid cyclist. We had ridden together before, and on my latest trip to Sonoma last Fall, I had my bike with me and decided to try to meet up with Ken for a ride.
Simple.
You’d think.
What transpired that Saturday morning was one of the oddest “group rides” I have ever experienced.
The plan was to meet at the winery at 9:00, with a friend of Ken’s, and ride for 25-30 miles. Perfect. Ken then emailed in the evening, pushing the ride back to ten, since it was forecast to be about 50° at 9:00 a.m. Even better, as I did not have any cold-weather clothes with me, and since moving to Houston almost a decade ago, I have become a bit of a wimp.
Then, a bit after 9:00 in the morning of the ride, Ken texted and said plans had changed again and that we should get riding by 9:30 at the latest; he had a business meeting that had been moved up, and he needed to get back. I was staying on the north side of Healdsburg, and the drive to Freeman would be a solid 30+ minutes.
I had to get moving.
I ended up getting to the winery by about 9:35 (I may have “stretched” the speed limit “suggestions” on the 101…), put my bike together in a hurry, pumped up the tires, and we were on the road by maybe 9:41. No problem.
Shortly after we started out, maybe 5 miles in, or about 15-20 minutes, Mike, the third person in the group, got a flat tire. It happens all the time in cycling, and usually takes about 5-10 minutes to repair. Until it doesn’t. After about 25-30 minutes of Mike fiddling with his bike and tire, Ken got a phone call and, for whatever reason, had to head back to the winery immediately.
He suggested that we keep riding, though, and while it would have been nice to chat a bit with Ken about the wine industry in general and Freeman wines in particular, it was a beautiful day, and I was hoping to get some miles in. So off rode Ken. Probably another 15 minutes passed before the tube was replaced and the wheel was back on the bike.
I had considered offering to help, but it is decidedly a one-person job, and I just met the guy; I didn’t want to come off as a know-it-all, “let me handle this” kind of guy, even though we all know that is who I am.
Well, we start rolling, and not even 50 meters later, the same tire blew (I could add a comment such as “I should have changed the tube after all”, but that would only cement my know-it-all persona, and I am trying to avoid that). To make matters worse, Mike only had that one tube, and since I was on my gravel bike, my tube was way too big for his skinny 23mm tires.
So Mike says, “Why don’t you just go on ahead? I will call my wife, and she will come pick me up. This happens all the time.” [At this point, I bite my tongue rather forcefully.] I must have had an alarmed look on my face since he added, “You know the route, right?”
“Um, no. I don’t even have the foggiest idea where we are.”
As any of my previous cycling companions can assert, I have perhaps the single worst sense of direction of anyone on the planet. Yes, I was a cycling tour guide for many years; I never said I was particularly good at it, however. Let’s move on.
So Mike says: “Well, it is pretty easy. Take this road until it deadends in about a mile or two. Turn right. Then that road dead-ends in about a mile. Turn left. Then take that to, um, Piner Road, I think? Turn left. Then you are on that for a bit and eventually turn right onto, um, well, you will know it when you see it. Then you need to make a few quick turns, which will take you down to River Road (at this point, I had already figured I was a dead man and stopped trying to remember), then you will know where you are. Easy.”
My approach to directions is rather simple: remember the first step, execute it, and then pull out my phone and try to figure out the next turn. Rinse and repeat.
The last thing I said to Mike? “No worries, I have my pho…” at which point I touched my jersey pocket where I normally keep my phone, only to realize that in all my haste to get on the road quickly, I forgot my stinking phone.
OK, this is now bad. I am out in the middle of nowhere, I have no idea where I am or where I am going, I have no phone, and the only “direction” I can remember is “turn right (or was it left?)”. Yeah, this should go well.
I really didn’t have much planned for the rest of the day, other than the tasting back at the winery with Akiko, so I headed out. I kept repeating the directions that I could remember over and over. So much so that if there had been a casual observer, I must have appeared as a bike-riding version of Rainman.
Without my phone or any clear conception of where I was or where I needed to go, I was hoping to make the first turn successfully and then hope I ran into someone with at least half a brain who could let me know what my next turn should be. Rinse and repeat.
One mile passes. No dead end. Two miles. Then three. The road gets wider and populated with more cars. Five miles. The road continues straight. As an arrow. No end in sight. At around eight miles after leaving Mike, I enter the town of Santa Rosa, and I am on Second Street (I think), which appears to keep going indefinitely. Maybe it dead ends at the Pacific Ocean, or maybe at the Mexican border, I really have no idea.
So, instead of trying to figure out if a bike can cross the international border, I stop at a hotel, one where I had stayed often during my numerous trips to Santa Rosa. I went to the front desk, clad in my colorful (and tight) cycling gear, to ask for directions back to Freeman Winery.
“Are you on a bike?”
“No, I am driving a John Deere tractor” is what I wanted to say, but I simply smiled and nodded.
“Oh, that’s pretty far away. Are you sure you want to go there?”
“Is Mexico closer?” is what I wanted to say, but I simply smiled and nodded.
She then proceeded to go to MapQuest (that still exists?) and print me out the turn-by-turn directions to find my way back to Freeman. It was just over 12 miles there, which made my entire ride just short of 25 miles and got me back to the winery in time for a fantastic tasting with Akiko Freeman, perhaps the nicest person on the planet.
“How did the bike ride go?” she asked.
“It was perfect.” And it was.
Here are the Pinot Noirs I tasted with Akiko; see my post from last week for the reviews of the whites we tasted.
2022 Freeman Pinot Noir, KR Ranch, Green Valley of Russian River Valley, CA: Retail $68. Former Keiffer Ranch. When Kosta Browne bought part of the vineyard, they trademarked the name Keiffer Ranch and wouldn’t allow Freeman to use it anymore even though KB got its start with Freeman who custom crushed their wine. Really lovely fruit of Bing cherry and eucalyptus. Lovely. Whoa. Just a fantastic wine. Rich tart, and bursting with character. Another gem from Akiko. Outstanding. 94 Points.
2022 Freeman Pinot Noir, Gloria Estate, Green Valley of Russian River Valley, CA: Retail $74. Right on the winery property, this was planted in 2006, just before my first visit, to a variety of Pinot clones (Swan, Calera, Marini, Pommard, and Dijon 115). Another whoa. Medium to light in color with that classic Green Valley of Russian River Valley gorgeous cherry with bits of black pepper, lavender, and violet. Whoa. More power and depth than the KR Ranch, and it’s a tad a bit rounder and more muscular. Whoa. Great tartness and depth. Just amazing. Outstanding. 95 Points.
2021 Freeman Pinot Noir, Yu-Ki Estate, West Sonoma Coast, CA: Retail $74. In 2007, Ken bought 50 acres of an old redwood forest above the town of Occidental. It is illegal to cut down redwoods now but in the 1860 this was cleared for sheep grazing but still surrounded by ancient redwoods (one translation of “Yu-KI” is “big tree”). Planted in 2008, this vineyard is a mere 3.5 miles from the ocean. Akiko says it’s more of an umami-driven wine and has more of an ocean influence with thicker skins. Gorgeous red fruit but a bit darker than the other two both in color and style. The fruit, although a bit more subdued than the boisterous nose, continues onto the palate, which is surprisingly round and meaty, with a salty, umami character that really comes through. Fantastic. Outstanding. 93 Points.
2022 Freeman Pinot Noir, Akiko’s Cuvée, Sonoma Coast, CA: Retail $85. Akiko’s Cuvee is always a blend of the best 15-20 barrels from each vintage, made every year since the inaugural 2002 vintage. According to Akiko, this blend typically, requires additional bottle aging to fully mature, but right now? Absolutely gorgeous. Whoa. Easily the best nose thus far, with fresh berry (cherry, straw, black) cobbler oozing over the rim. Yowza. A bit of spice and plenty of verve here; sure, this is young but oh so delicious. I would argue it could use at least five years. But simply fantastic now. Yowza. Outstanding Plus. 97 Points.
the drunken cyclist 