Hey, guys, we just got back from Kathy’s 30-year high school reunion in Omak, Washington. This is a burg at the far northeast of the state, an hour from my Canuck border into Penticton, British Columbia.
When we lived in the little house in Seattle, we were minutes from SeaTac airport; Kath on a biz trip could phone me at the house to pick her up, and I’d be there as she wheeled her carry-on to the arrival curb.
Not here chez Oakley, mein friends. One hour minimum driving to get to a Park&Ride lot at Oakland airport, then the livery gavotte to TSA humiliation.
Kathy’s brilliant plan (no sarcasm; she has brilliantly researched it), is based on prices. She had been watching one-way flight segment pricing, trying to hook up with the best fare. At a certain time, one must pull das trigger. Kathy done good.
Flying closer to the reunion would have cost much more; renting a car at the airport would have cost $100 more. And we wanted to go wine tasting, which, if we wanted to buy, would have cost us mofo in shipping.
Southwest! The one last airline that allows one to check 2 “bags” free of charge. We checked 3 empty Styrofoam professional wine shipper boxes on the flight up to Seattle (between the two of us), with the intention of shipping them back full.
We get the car off-airport-site, in Georgetown and, in an effort to break up the 5-hour drive to Omak, we stop to taste around Lake Chelan.
Lake Chelan is a real region: multimillion dollar vay-cay residences. But damn if the surrounding wineries did not band together and petition for a distinct American Viticultural Area (AVA). For AVA status, one must prove to the feds that your soil, weather, moisture and sun exposure differentiates from a neighbor.
And I am so envious that Oakley can not get it together like this. Farmers, unite! (Even if you have to hire a winemaker).
We tasted some old faves on this leg, such as Tildio, but could not believe this model of lake, vineyards and view, all at Lake Chelan AVA. Sigh
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