Saturday, June 24, 2017

June is Concord Month!

As any loyal reader of my blog knows, I do not drink sweet wine. I opt for Norton, Chambourcin, cheap Cabernet for my house wine. I do collect Oregon pinot noir and Missouri Nortons and will open one on special occasions, including one occasion which involved the coming of my house wrens to my wren box. These are special occasions. When the katydids start calling I'll open another one. I have great hopes of making my own wine, not for apocalypse planning but for my own edification. So I had to start somewhere. Missouri seems like a great place for making wine.

And so, last July I placed an order for Norton juice from a St. James area vineyard that cannot produce wine. They grow grapes and can sell juice, but can't make wine. When I finally arrived in mid-September, they only had Concord juice, sold as juice, frozen to kill off the wild yeast. I reconfigured my recipe with champagne yeast to make Concord wine, preferably a dry wine that didn't taste like all the commercial Concords that are palatable to college-aged girls and sweet wine lovers.

A family friend gave me two glass carboys, my partner gave me the fermenters and airlocks, along with a great book on making wine. Special thanks to professional winemakers who gave me more advice than I even understood, I made my first batch of wine: Concord, with regular wine yeast and champagne yeast as a finish. The wine turned out vaguely effervescent, but flavorful. I have given it away to friends who drink sweet wine and have given tastes to friends who support my plan to make supple, dry wines out of Missouri-grown grapes. But June is designated as Concord Month by the Missouri Wine and Grape Board, so I celebrate my first venture into making wine. I have yet to actually drink anything more than a taste of the wine I made. I plan to improve my skills with better juice secured from a winery in Osage County. In the meantime, visit Missouri wineries this summer! Concord is a good place to start. Usually folks will drink sweet wine and then matriculate to dry wines. Concord is traditionally so damned sweet but it's a good gateway wine for anyone wanting to go from beer or liquor to wine.

Saturday, June 17, 2017

Three Days on the Current River

I set out early on Monday for a three day birding event in the Current River country. I hadn't visited the area since the last big flood, the one that sent buildings downstream, ripped roofs off of float outfitters and shut down the river to recreation for almost an entire month. The streambanks have been shredded. Volunteers and hired hands spent a month clearing downed logs to make the river passable for floaters by cutting up the snags into firewood and sending them downstream. But the streambanks look like a tornado went through them.

Streambank natural communities are accustomed to, and in fact dependent on disturbance such as from intermittent flooding. But to what degree of disturbance? This megaflood ripped mature trees and sections of bottomland woodlands out of the way which has now widened the river in some places, filling the river with sediment and more gravel, making it look like the sections of river where jet boats cause significant sheeting and degradation of the streambank. The flooding sent all of the fish hatchery trout downstream on the Current, little guys, voracious feeders of native fauna. Before Welch Spring I noted large patches of bright green filamentous algae, a sign of pollution from the watershed. All the fertilizer from pastures, manure and flooded bathrooms and latrines sending high nutrient loads downstream. I have seen the same on parts of the Jack's Fork River from horse manure, areas that were cordoned off from full body contact with the water, but that was in a stagnant July.

Cliff faces must be the most sturdy of our natural communities associated with Ozark streams. The Southern Maidenhair Fern persists despite the roaring river waters. Gravel bars have been reshaped, the river is widening and sediment sloughing off. Gravel accretion occurring rapidly. Unfortunately, I doubt this can be classified as a once-in-100-years flood event.

I woke every morning at 5:30 to the sounds of cerulean warblers, almost too many to count, and yellow throated warblers, Louisiana waterthrush with their dulcet call, even one blue-winged warbler on a shrubby streambank. Maybe it's the scale of all of that protected land that allows for so many breeding birds, signs of nests and visions of orioles taking out the fecal sacs from their nests. Despite the sad state of shredded streambanks, birding in the Current River country is certainly rewarding.