How the Wine Happened

The vineyards on these slopes are newer than most visitors assume, and the reason they work here is the same reason the cherries do.

Grand Traverse Bay is deep and it holds heat. In spring the cold water keeps the vines dormant a little longer, carrying the buds safely past the last hard frost. In autumn the bay is still warm and stretches the ripening season out at the far end. That narrow band of moderated climate is what makes cool-climate grapes possible at a latitude that ought to be far too cold — this is roughly the same parallel as Bordeaux, but with a continental winter that would ordinarily kill the vines outright.

Serious planting only began in the nineteen seventies, and for years the wine was politely described as improving. It is not politely described any more. The Rieslings are genuinely good, the sparkling wines are very good, and the cool-climate reds have got much better as growers worked out which sites do what.

There are dozens of tasting rooms within a few miles of this road, most of them small and family-run, and most will happily talk your ear off about frost.

The obvious warning applies: you are driving a two-lane road with cyclists and deer on it. Pick one stop, or pick a driver, or come back tomorrow. The wine will still be here.