Walk #120: Looking for Beltane and the IWW in the Napa Valley

May Day. A day of celebration for both Socialists and Pagans. I set out on my walk in St. Helena looking for both. I decided that I would fully investigate the first reference either to the Pagan or Socialist holiday I came across.

First, I decided to walk to the Charles Krug winery, from the library in downtown St. Helena. No life there. It's a rainy day and the workers at Charles Krug have absolutely nothing to celebrate. After all, the Farmworker's union was busted up a couple of years ago, after a hard fought battle in the 70's. Gone are the decent wages; gone are the health benefits. Up go the Peter Mondavi families profits. Sad.

And still no reference to either Pagans or Socialists.

I stop into a restaurant to grab one of the Napa Valley's most expensive burgers. Only a couple restaurants actually have a bar where a I can sit alone. I bring a book by Hunter Thompson. The host of the restaurant recommends a wine. A Rose'.

Just then the spouse of the winemaker of the recommended wine walks up and says: "It's May Day".

My ears go up like a curious dog, as now the spell has been cast. I have heard the blessed words: "May Day" though not from a Pagan or a Socialist. I decide that this counted; I decide to investigate further and order a glass of their wine.

I'm not terribly fond of Rose's. They, to me, are a hint of being what they should be. They aren't red. Nor are they a white. I usually pass on a request for this. But the winemaker is present at the restaurant this evening (a youngish handsome fellah from France). The Winemaker and his spouse are sitting next to me and they tell me the story of meeting in France and moving to the States to start making wine. Every wine needs to have a "story" to sell it. This is theirs. The story seemed even more tailor made for me as they tell me they live in the Sierra foothills, where they grow sixty percent of the grapes for their wine (Syrah, by the way). The other forty percent coming from the Rutherford region of the Napa Valley.

I try the wine. It is actually quite good. Fruity. Has a nice finish. Not too hot with the alcohol. Fresh, with a hint of pineapple.

The restaurant is sponsoring a tasting this evening of three blush Roses'. I taste the other two-- which are not near as good as the one made by my new friends sitting next to me. One of the competitors blush wines is made by the famous Heitz winery.

I tell the young Winemakers I like theirs best. I could do so with authenticity and honesty.

If you are ever in the Napa Valley, and you are sitting next to the many winemakers who inhabit the valley like zits on a teenagers face, it is always a good idea to tell him or her that you love their wine. This will usually lead to an evening filled with Bacchus like cheer; your cup will runneth over!

Mine did.

The evening wasn't quite a Pagan Beltane. Nor a Socialist Eugene Debs march. It was a mixture of both. Bacchus meets small family wine owner. More E. F. Schumacher in Nature. And I liked it...
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As a footnote to the mountain lion and dog bites child story, here is the Oroville Newspaper's report of the event. Rednecks like Wolf type dogs. The dog was placed in a quarantine. Can you imagine a mountain lion ever being placed in a quarantine after biting a child?