Although I was pretty sure I wouldn’t fall off my bike on the Columbia Gorge highway or tip my canoe into the Willamette River during my sojourn with Zephyr Adventures last fall, I did have a spill. In fact, the volcanic splash of (very delicious) King Estate Pinot Noir resulted in special recognition. At our farewell dinner, a ‘certificate of completion’ was handed to me with great pomp and circumstance with the award description: ‘First Wine Spill.’ Yup, I made a mess of that crisp, white tablecloth on Day One, but there would be more gaffes and giggles to come as the journey continued.
For example? One fellow traveler had studied pole dancing, so we spent a good deal of time after wine-pairing dinners looking for the perfect pole so she could prove she’d really learned something. Although we never found a pole that was good enough, the trip itself was beyond good: it included private barrel tastings, intimate talks with winemakers, magnificent scenery, great food, and lots of endorphin-boosting exercise.
Fun is definitely part of Zephyr’s M.O. which also includes not taking yourself–or your wine knowledge–too seriously. The Montana-based company is perhaps best known for taking fitness junkies trekking in Tibet and skating in Holland, but has recently added wine tasting trips to its list of active vacations.
Does swirling, sniffing, and spitting count as ‘active’? Um, nooooooo, but walking and cycling between tasting rooms burns off calories, clears the mind, renews the spirit, and prepares the belly for more food and more wine. Already been to Oregon? Then consider Italy, Burgundy, South Africa, Spain or Sonoma–which are all featured on Zephyr’s 2008 wine adventure calendar.
A healthy interest in wine is highly recommended for the trips, and some knowledge of the grape is helpful but not mandatory. The viticulturists and tasting room personnel we met along the way explained the winemaking process so that wine lovers of all levels had their needs met. Rookies got the opportunity to taste right in the vineyard; seasoned oenophiles got a review course in wine 101 (a good thing!), saw new territory, and had a chance to taste wines that might not be available at retail. In addition to tasting Oregon wine, the pros at Zephyr chose a pleasant mix of casual and fine dining restaurants and oversaw our physical activities to make sure we were safe (bike helmet buckled, life vest snapped tight) and enjoying ourselves. And best of all, they wrapped it all up tight in a seamlessly planned, beautifully executed travel package.
I was one of eight wine lovers who got a taste (pun intended) of Zephyr’s new tours. The following is a peek at some of the highlights of our fall, 2007 trip to the Willamette Valley and the Columbia Gorge.
DAY 1:
Surprise! There was a thick, grey fog and a steady pelting of rain as my plane touched down in Eugene. No worries, though: the Zephyr folks had given us a packing list, and I followed it like a Girl Scout. Rain pants? Check. Rain jacket? Check. I even brought a jar of waterproofing stuff for boots in case some city slicker happened to be in our group. (Yep, uh huh, Miss Pole Dancer was thrilled to slather that silicone onto her brand new–and very porous–hiking shoes.) We loaded up into the Zephyr van and as we headed out to wine country, we passed pastures of fat sheep and acres upon acres of Christmas tree farms.
At the time of our visit (late September/early October), there were 
grapes still hanging heavy on the vines at our first stop, Iris Hill Vineyards. ‘We’re waiting for the acids to decline, for the sugars to increase, and for the seeds to mature, ‘ said owner Richard Boyles. He handed us grapes to sample with the specific instructions to taste the seeds, explaining that seed maturation really does makes a difference in a wine’s flavor.
Boyles poured the 2006 Iris Hill Pinot Gris right there in the vineyard; I loved its bracing, grapefruit-y nose and spicy sharp 
flavors. (I adore vineyard tastings, and I also really get a kick out of spitting on the ground en plein air instead of having to use a spit bucket.) We headed to the tasting room where a rowdy bridal party was just leaving. Inside, we sniffed, swirled, spat and swallowed our way through Iris Hill’s entire portfolio, from the restrained 2005 unoaked Chardonnay to the piece de resistance: the lush, elegant 2005 Pinot Noir Reserve.
Then it was time for another vineyard walk, and as we left the tasting room–as if on cue–the skies opened up. It was raining buckets and I started looking for animals walking two-by-two. But we fancied ourselves as adventurers, so we smiled and kept putting one foot in front of the other in the rich, Oregon soil. Our Zephyr hosts handed out Crayola-colored ponchos and umbrellas, which did help. Some.
But I have to say, it was a good wine day and a very bad hair day. When we arrived for dinner at King Estate, our group looked pretty pathetic. However, we were given a warm welcome and escorted into King’s cozy private dining room (the scene of the infamous ‘First Wine Spill’).
We began with plenty of snappy Pinot Gris, a charcuterie platter, oysters mignonette and a selection of local cheeses. By the time dinner arrived, my wine and food notes are meshed with book, music, and movie recommendations as our group got chummy and the haze of jet lag, fresh air, and alcohol took over.
DAY 2
After a very good, very hearty breakfast at Eugene’s Excelsior Inn, we drove north, enjoying friendly prattle as we traveled. When we reached Willamette Valley Vineyards, owner Jim Bernau gave us a casual but enthusiastic and informative grape-growing ‘class’ in his Pinot Gris vineyards. Jim’s discourse was a kind of Dummies in the Vineyard session; everyone loved it. On the road again, we crossed the Willamette River and headed to Bethel Heights winery for a walk, tasting and lunch, followed by another vigorous walk through Zenith Vineyards with co-owner Kari Ramey. Kari 
led us through an informal tasting of St. Innocent wines, while we admired the vistas, complete with a double rainbow. Later, we dressed up for dinner (I barely recognized my traveling companions, so pressed and polished were they) and supped at The Painted Lady in Newburg where the heirloom tomato salad and gnocchi with chanterelles proved to be extraordinary examples of Oregon’s autumn bounty.
DAY 3
After a big, cowboy-style breakfast, we gathered in a nearby corral and were assigned horses according to height, weight (both ours and theirs), and riding ability. Once we were all in the saddle, we were given brief instructions about going left, right, stopping and starting. My horse, Ace, was pretty zippy–a little more horse than I’d planned for–but I was determined to stay cool and calm, so I talked to him as if he were a big dog. It seemed to help. In any case, Ace and I made it safely to the charming, family-owned Winter’s Hill Vineyard’s tasting room where we (me, not Ace) tried a range of Pinots–Blanc, Gris and Noir–and snacked on local hazelnuts. Back on our steeds, our group then rode through thick hazelnut groves–ducking under low branches as we trotted along–and inhaled the evocative aromas of horse, leather, rain and autumn leaves.
After a short drive to Red Ridge Farms & Vineyards, we enjoyed a casual tasting lunch and a quick, unguided tour of the greenhouse and nursery, which specializes in lavender. An afternoon of vineyard walks followed: we trekked and tasted with Alison Sokol Blosser, co-President of the renowned winery of the same name, who talked a bit about the fact that her family’s vineyards are farmed organically and are certified sustainable. Afterwards, a quick visit to Stoller vineyards ended the day, with a relaxed tasting led by winemaker, Melissa Burr.
DAY 4
I have to admit I woke up a bit nervous, knowing that three hours of canoeing was on the itinerary. I’m an earth sign–as in astrology–and water has always humbled me. But I calmed myself down thinking, O.K., I’ve done a little kayaking, I’ll be fine. ‘No experience necessary’ says the tip sheet. ‘Please wear shoes you don’t mind getting wet. You should have sunscreen, sunglasses, a sun hat and raingear available, depending on the weather.’ The sunscreen and hat remained on land, and out 
came the raingear. The flush of pink that came to my cheeks that morning wasn’t from the sun (which did finally peek through the clouds the last ten minutes of our journey) but from the embarrassment of being a complete dyslexic in a canoe. I couldn’t figure out which way to place my paddle to go left or right. It wasn’t like kayaking at all! We had a good laugh, and needless to say, I did not get the Sacagawea award at the farewell dinner. We were damp, chilled, and hungry by the time we reached Willamette Farms where we tasted their VX wines and indulged in a superb lunch highlighting local, seasonal fare.
As luck would have it, the sun would shine on us that afternoon. After a pre-cycling sampling at Mount Hood Winery’s roadside tasting room, we were matched up with hybrid bikes according to our height. We all got a road map, a high-five and instructions about where and when to meet after our ride. I opted for the short ride (eight miles) through the countryside while some die-hards continued for another eight. Why flake out? Shopping beckoned! The town of Hood River is filled with charming boutiques and when I saw a sign that said ‘shoes and treasures’ I just had to have a little retail therapy. (Yes, bought some shoes.) A private catered dinner and bedtime at the charming Columbia Gorge Hotel were the perfect finish to a strenuous day.
DAY 5
I woke up starving, which totally amazed me. Why does that happen after four days of Bacchanalian eating and drinking? But I was truly hungry, so I downed a behemoth-sized plate of bacon and eggs in preparation for trekking up to the Gorge’s Multnomah Falls. It was drizzly and chilly, but breathtakingly beautiful; a dramatic ending to a very fine trip. The airport was our next–and final–stop. After we got through security, there were an exchange of business cards, hugs and farewells. Weary of wine, but not quite ready for the trip to end, a fellow traveler and I made a beeline to the bar: she had a beer, and I had a Bloody Mary.
And I didn’t spill a drop.
P.S. A few days later, we all received an e-mail from our pole-dancer friend. Attached to the e-mail was a photograph. Finally, she’d found the perfect pole–in Croatia.
For additional information, see www.ZephyrAdventures.com