After 5 vintages and 17 unique releases, we’re finally breaking our own rule. We’ve always said ‘we never release the same wine twice’ and we’ve always meant it. With the type of experiments we do, it would usually be impossible to repeat. A neglected barrel in the back winery can only be salvaged once. A smoke tainted red and white blend requires a natural disaster (we can only hope that we never get to do it again.) But despite our promise, we just couldn’t help ourselves. For the first time ever, we’re doubling down. Please give a warm welcome to our second release of our Coast Range Rosé. 

In the spring of 2024, we released our first vintage of Coast Range Rosé with Dacha. It was both our first rose wine and our first time working with this particular Oregon coast range vineyard. We loved everything about the vineyard - tiny, family owned, organically farmed, cool night time temperatures, own rooted vines. And the wine we produced from the vineyard was delightful and sold out just as Summer kicked off. As per usual, we figured it was a one off experiment and that we’d have to say goodbye to the vineyard. We assumed they would probably start selling to a bigger, more established buyer. So it was a surprise to us when Isabel from Dacha reached out to ask if we wanted to buy  the fruit for a second year. We couldn’t turn it down. While we did put some thought into making something different than rose and holding with our principle of ‘never making the same wine twice,’ the realization set in pretty quickly that this was one of the first times where we actually COULD make the same wine twice. So why hold back? If there is any wine that feels like it should exist year in and year out, it’s rose, released fresh in spring and consumed entirely by mid summer.

There is something just so inevitable, so essential about rose. When spring sets in and the market is filled with fava, peas and asparagus and we are gifted our first chance at dining outside, our bodies crave rose. Crave it in the way that a baseball game makes you crave a hot dog. But why? Why do we yearn so? Are we seduced by the slick marketing of the rose industrial complex? I’m not that cynical yet. Is there some cultural component to it, the sunshine channeling every fantasy we’ve ever had about escaping our mundane lives and moving to the coast of Provence? Could be. Or perhaps it’s spiritual? Is the first spring rose something akin to a religious moment, a deep sacred yearning, our soul grasping towards salvation through refreshment? Or maybe, maaaaaaaybe….. it’s just hot outside and rose is cold and pink and pretty and we’re all a little thirsty for chilled liquids and beauty. I wish I knew the truth, but these are questions that can be answered by god and god alone (Bacchus, Dionysus, etc)

Back in 2023 Isabel got offered the chance to farm a small 2 acre homestead vineyard in the southern hinterlands of the Willamette Valley coast range. It was planted 25 years ago and had been farmed a bit willy nilly over the years by multiple different people. The end result was a vineyard in poor shape. But the allure of old-ish vine, coast range fruit was tempting, so Isabel accepted. 

After a winter and spring of rehabilitation, it was clear that this site had a ton of potential. But Isabel didn’t need any more fruit for Dacha. So she called us up and asked if we wanted to buy her first vintage of the fruit. Of course we said yes.

In our endless pursuit of experimentation, we were thrilled to explore this neglected part of the Willamette Valley. When people think of the Willamette Valley, they often picture the classic stretch between Portland and Salem. But vineyards exist in nooks and crannies all over the state. This vineyard is about 2 hours south of Portland, which means it’s really not on the radar of anyone who lives or works in the northern Willamette valley. A four hour round trip from Portland is a lot. But despite its geographical obscurity, it’s a pretty special place to grow grapes.

The potential of the Oregon coast range has always fascinated us for a number of reasons. First of all, certain weather factors make it particularly well suited to organic farming, which we’re big believers of. The Coast Range generally gets less rain (because of the rain shadow of the mountains) and also has stronger winds coming from the ocean, both of which mean less disease pressure. Less disease pressure means it’s easier to farm organically. 

And secondly, the higher elevations of the coast range are generally colder, which means brighter acids in the grapes and more freshness in the wine…overall more potential for wines that drink with zip and energy. In an era of warmer temperatures, grapes like Pinot Noir really benefit from these cooler, higher elevation sites. In hot years (heat dome, anyone?) Pinot grown on the lower elevation valley floor can easily get too ripe and the wines end up tasting like they’re from California.  But up in the coast range, Pinot can grow in its preferred environment. 

Because this place is so unique, we wanted to capture the vineyard in some kind of pure, unadulterated way, so we teamed with Isabel to pick the vineyard and make it into Rose. Why Rose? Well to me, there is something so raw about Rose. 

Drinking this rose is like drinking the Oregon Coast Range in it’s most elemental form, and we love it. 

We can do our part and make sure that in spite of our self imposed guardrails of Post Familiar, we are providing sustenance when it’s needed. For the second year in a row, we hope you enjoy our Coast Range Rose. We just couldn’t quit her.