Friday, June 15, 2007

Two Out of Three Ain't Bad




Undaunted by our “no penguin” experience in Victor Harbor, Di and I decided to go where we would not have to depend on wildlife for a wild life. We loaded the car back up and were off for the scenic Clare Valley and its famous Riesling Trail. The Riesling Trail is a 50K roundtrip biking path dotted with over 30 wineries, all featuring the prized wine of the region, Riesling. We arrived in Clare, and after turning down a lovely two bedroom cottage right on the trail complete with two queen beds, wood burning stove, and spa bath for $65 per night in favor of the Clare Valley Lodge several kilometers off the path complete with dingy bedspreads, cramped showers, and fuzzy television for $85 a night, we were off to rent our bikes. Moments later we were off on the trail and an afternoon of fresh air, pleasant exercise, and periodic tastings. Or so I thought. After ½ hour or so of row after row of grapes and rolling pastureland, I started to develop a thirst. I stopped at the next winery I came to and waited for Di, who was just slightly behind me on the trail. “Should we stop here?” I asked. “No,” Di responded, “I’d like to bike a little more.” Fair enough, I thought, and resumed pedaling. We made our way through sheep farms and patches of gum trees, and I determined that it was clearly time for a stop. After passing several unremarkable wineries, I came to one that was originally operated by Jesuits and featured, in addition to the cellar door, a small museum and church tour. “How about this one?” I asked when Di caught up. “No,” she said, “let’s just keep going.” Along we went, spying blue and yellow parrots and a few hopping creatures who were less surprised to see me than I was to see them. We were well passed the halfway point when I spied Annie’s Lane, a well-known label in these parts, looming on the horizon. I made my way to the gate and waited for Di. “No.” she said, “We’ll have Riesling with our dinner. I just want to stay on the bike.” On our way back to the bike hire I didn’t bother asking. With dinner (a trio of Kangaroo, Emu, and Venison medallions in a stunningly sour quandong sauce), I ordered a Mclaren Vale Shiraz.

We may be the first people in history to ride the Riesling Trail and completely omit the Riesling.