Marca delivered Italian-sausage-stuffed mushrooms and blistered pizzas to our picnic table our children, tired of coloring, played around a giant black walnut tree and sunny-yellow chicken coop, while we clinked glasses of the 2011 Septette pinot noir, toasting to a wine country that kids and parents can both love. The affable, apron-clad owner, Dan Marca, and his wife, Cindy, moved here from Sacramento in 1999 (the vineyard’s moniker is a mash-up of their nicknames). We found one such spot at new Dancin Vineyards, a mile outside Jacksonville, with a prime view of Mount McLoughlin.
Grassy lawns beckoned families to spread out a picnic blanket, enjoy a wood-fired pizza and stay awhile. Everywhere we went, there were crayons and coloring books and toy bins. Something else struck us about these wineries: They were actually welcoming to children. Quady’s tiny brick tasting room in downtown Jacksonville, a charming Old West town. We visited ramshackle garagistas like Devitt new rustic-chic Red Lily on the river Schmidt, an old-timer with acres of blooming gardens and Quady North, Mr. Not just good, but really good, we realized as we continued cruising the valley. That is, until we came across a wildflower-lined hiking trail and, conveniently nearby, the sunny patio at Kriselle Cellar’s new tasting room, where we kicked things off with crisp sauvignon blanc and a cheese plate. Driving through Medford, we saw more fast-food-chain outlets than pear orchards, which once reigned in the Rogue Valley. We grabbed a map of tasting rooms and headed out. WHICH IS ALSO TO SAY that not all of the region is pure eye-candy.Ī few miles north of Ashland, in the Rogue Valley, we turned right past a Chevy dealership and into Lithia Springs Resort, a remodeled clutch of clapboard cottages set in a manicured garden. “The best thing about southern Oregon wine is that you don’t just taste the same grape over and over again” is a refrain I heard from local winemakers, over and over again.įor visitors, though, an under-the-radar wine country without a recognizable “brand” can be a boon, offering more accessibility and affordability than you’re likely to find elsewhere. It also means that this region has a branding challenge. Varietals like chardonnay and cabernet franc thrive in the dry, hot Rogue Valley pockets of the Umpqua Valley, which is spread across a fault line, excels in Spanish varietals like tempranillo and throughout, you’ll find albariño, viognier, malbec, gewürztraminer, syrah and, yes, more pinot noir. Southern Oregon doesn’t grow just one type of grape, but a whole bunch - and really well. From Medford and Ashland to Grants Pass and Jacksonville, all the way north up Interstate 5 to Roseburg and teeny Elkton, the region features mountains, high desert and three river valleys, which in turn means a crazy range of climates. “We have 150 microclimates south of Eugene,” she said, pouring me a Bordeaux blend. She is also a refreshingly rare sort of sommelier in an industry long dominated by buttoned-up white males: a perky Asian-American woman who wears flip-flops and greeted me with a “Hey, girl.” She splits her summers between making wine and overseeing the tasting room at Serra Vineyards and leading rustic inn-to-inn wine-tasting-rafting trips with Rogue Wilderness Adventures, which is how I met her. Wan is a walking Wikipedia of wine knowledge who serves as the de facto spokeswoman for a vast wine country without one. “Oregon is not all pinot,” said Liz Wan, nodding to the persistent misunderstanding that Oregon wine means not just Willamette, but its best-known grape.
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