Wine Openers

The uneven arrival of bud break in spring 2013 has western Colorado grape growers waiting, hoping the green returns to signal life remains in the vines after the deep cold of January.

Those shaggy-maned grape vines you see around the Grand Valley’s vineyards this spring haven’t been ignored, they’re actual serving a purpose.

It’s bud break in Colorado first AVA, a time when most of the valley’s grape growers finish pruning their winter-long vines on the bet those still-tender roseate buds will survive anything Mother Nature might throw their way.

However, with this spring a series of warm/cold, then warm-and-cold again fluctuations, nobody’s quite sure how to prune, which means growers are leaving some vines undocked until it’s known with certainty which plants survived the winter cold.

Bud break normally occurs irregularly around the Grand Valley, spread out among the many micro-environments and grape varietals dotting the area, but this year, what’s normal?

“It’s just all over the place this year,” said state viticulturist Horst Caspari. “It’s abnormal even by Colorado standards.”

He said an extended bud break isn’t unexpected “but now we’re seeing plants 100 percent out and unfolding their leaves and next to them are plants that are barely into bud break.”

When bud break starts, though, it seems to happen overnight. The first rush of growth comes quickly; vines that were winter-dormant Monday will have swollen buds Tuesday and tiny green leaves Thursday.

“It really happens fast, once it gets started,” said Nancy Janes of Whitewater Hill Vineyards, walking last week through the vineyards near her winery on 32 Road.

Some of the canes (branches) in her vineyard are whiplike and long, flocked with bits of green from emerging leaves and mini-clusters, all a bit of insurance to protect the buds closer to the main stem, she said.

“Normally we cut this off, leaving these two buds on a short cane,” she said, showing where a pruner would remove much of the longer canes. “The less vine, the more the energy goes in the grapes and not into growing the canes.”

The vines are apically dominant, which means the end bud releases a chemical (auxin) that retards the development of lateral buds closer to the stem.

If the apical bud is removed, the other buds start to grow. Controlling the growth of those lateral buds through careful pruning is how grape growers shape their vines and also how bonsai trees and espalier (growing a plant two-dimensionally against a wall) are created.

Topiary is the three-dimensional version. Think of those Mickey Mouse trees at Disneyland and you get the idea.

Tomatoes are not apically dominant, which is why they spread out instead of up. This widening eliminates competition by creating a cleared area around the plant.

Cutting the apical buds spurs growth in buds closer to the trunk or stem but once buds break dormancy they are more-susceptible to frost.

Historically the average last day for frosts in the Grand Valley is May 13, a comment that makes Neil Guard laugh.

“Yes, but Mother Nature doesn’t read the calendar,” said Guard, who grows grapes and peaches on his farm on East Orchard Mesa.

“It’s really a gamble at this point,” Guard said Sunday afternoon as he walked his vineyard. “We had the crew prune the riesling because we know that usually does fine but look at the tempranillo, there’s hardly anything there at all.”

The name “tempranillo” comes from the Spanish world for “early” but you’d never know it by looking at Guard’s vines. While his nearby rows of cabernet franc are pulsing with buds and leaves, the rows of tempranillo are showing slight signs of life, and he’s purposely left those vines long and wild until he sees what grows.

“Look here,” he said, grabbing at a nearby vine. “I’ve got vines with lots of buds and leaves right next to vines that look like their dead, which they might be after last winter.”

He sighed and stood up to survey the rows of vines.

“We’re going to wait,” he said cautiously. “We still have almost two weeks and why spend the money on pruning something when you might end up cutting it off at the ground?”

Jeff Stultz grows hybrid Norton grapes in these vineyards southwest of Cañon City, Colorado

High along Oak Creek Grade, eight miles south of Cañon City, Colo., where the pavement ends and the road melts into the Pike-San Isabel National Forest, travelers come upon an unexpected sight – neat rows of dark-green vines bearing deep-purple grapes.

Vineyard owner Jeff Stultz says many people stop to take photos, unaware that back in Cañon City, in the tasting room at the Winery at Holy Cross Abbey, they will find a wine made from those high-country grapes.

It’s a wine different from other Colorado wines, which is fitting for the singular winery rooted at a former Benedictine Monastery.

The wine is a Norton, made from the American hybrid grape of the name familiar in the South and Midwest but a commercial rarity in Colorado, where the industry is dominated by European grape varieites, which aren’t always the right match for Colorado’s cold winters and unseasonal frosts.

The vines belong to Stultz and his wife Sue Allen-Stultz and Jeff’s parents, Fred and Gloria Stultz. Jeff is the assistant winemaker at the Abbey winery and in a former life was head greenskeeper at the Steele Canyon Golf & Country Club near San Diego, where Sue was the head golf professional.

Jeff’s family homesteaded near Cañon City in 1873 and when Jeff and Sue decided in 2001 to make Colorado their home, they found his parents already had some vines at the family ranch, which sits at 6,800 feet.

Those vines also were the expected European wine grapes, including cabernet sauvignon, merlot and chardonnay, all ill-suited to what may be the highest vineyard in the nation.

On the advice of Abbey winemaker Matt Cookson and state viticulturist Horst Caspari, an outspoken advocate of hybrid varieties, Jeff planted riesling and Norton vines.

“We planted 150 Norton vines and 500 riesling vines,” said Stultz, 44. “After a winter or two, the riesling were dying and we just couldn’t kill the Norton. So we kept planting Norton and now we’re up to about 500 Norton vines and there are probably between 30 to 35 riesling vines still hanging in there.”

Norton was developed in the early 1800s by Daniel Norton in Richmond, Va. Considered the cornerstone of a burgeoning U.S. wine industry until Prohibition ended most domestic winemaking, the grape today is grown along the East Coast, South and Midwest, where it’s sometimes referred to as the “Cabernet of the Ozarks.” It’s so popular that famed Austrian glass manufacturer Riedel made a special Norton glass in 2009..

Norton is popular because it is disease- and cold-resistant and lacks the pungent “foxiness” found in other hybrids. During the 2012 Drink Local Wine gathering in Denver, several Nortons were tasted and at least one of them, from Missouri but I can’t find my notes to tell you the name, was quite enjoyable. The others were unremarkable.

Back to Stultz: As his Norton vines matured, Stultz had enough grapes for Cookson to blend some into a popular merlot-based sweet red wine called Sangre de Cristo Nouveaux.

Stultz discovered that sending the Norton juice through malolactic fermentation, which converts harsh malic acid into softer lactic acid, drops the wine’s initial acidity (and its pungency) while enhancing the grape’s dark-berry fruit characteristics.

He said the vineyard’s elevation produces smaller grapes with deeper phenolics, which affect the color, flavor and mouthfeel of the wine.

“The color is so intense, you’re totally stained after crush,” he said. “The wine is a fruit bomb with really bright flavors.”

It’s not like they’re over-run with grapes. In 2010, about three tons of Norton were harvested, enough for 65 cases.

That wine, likely the only 100 percent Norton bottled in Colorado, was released this spring and is expected to sell out quickly, said winery spokesperson Sally Davidson.

The Winery each year produces between 13,000 and 14,000 cases of wine, but don’t expect much expansion in the hybrid line.

Cookson wants to focus on his present line of wines and Stultz, who judges homemade wines at the Fremont County Fair, is blunt in his assessment of most hybrid wines.

“They don’t do anything for me,” he said. “But the Norton has been a great wine. Those trying it really like it and now we have 200 gallons of it.”

The wine is available only at the winery in Cañon City.