Wine Grapes Won't Wait: The Crush Is On In Napa Valley

Living in Napa Valley these past six months has brought with it an ever-changing array of challenges and rewards. This month, amidst a monumental heat wave -- temperatures soaring emphatically and relentlessly into the 90s and 100s -- the air conditioning in my car went out. In this land of high-cost-of-living-induced microbudgets I found myself faced with the choice of either cocooning myself in clean, cool air or being able to afford the next couple thousand dollars' worth of certification courses.

The choice was clear. I rolled down my windows, rolled up my sleeves and found out that life here would never be quite the same in a most enchanting and captivating way.

Euphoria didn't set in immediately, though. Oh no. Definitely not. With the sun beating mercilessly down, I'd find myself stuck in a Crush Season traffic crunch behind an "ag" vehicle moving at earthworm speed holding up a mile's worth of traffic heavily laden with diesel-fume-spewing grape gondolas, grape juice tankers and oak barrel toting trucks.

Summoning my most strident mind-over-matter strategies, I tried to ignore the fact that my olfactory sensitivity – which I had been so assiduously cultivating -- was being caustically assaulted by noxious vapors on a bizarrely grand scale. Oxygen suddenly a scarce and precious commodity. Sinuses raging with pain. At times I felt like I was on the brink of losing consciousness from a combination of heat stroke and carbon monoxide poisoning.