Stuck in the mud.

Freeing Yankee.

Dear Reader,

Since I last wrote to you, we have had more rain.

Xavier came down from Gualfín to fix the acequia, water canal, with the backhoe.

Xavier in the backhoe. Photo credit: Mariah.

The river is too high to cross by car, so that leaves the hanging bridge. My husband Adrien devised a system where we leave my car on the San Martín side of the river, otherwise known as “our side”, and his truck, whom he christened Yankee, on the La Arcadia side.

Yesterday morning he rose at half past five in the morning. He was going to accompany Xavier, also our truck driver, to deliver grapes freshly picked from the vineyard in Angastaco, to our winemaker in Tacuil.

Tacuil is owned by Raúl Davalós, who makes the Tacana Malbec from grapes at our high altitude vineyard in Gualfín, called Pucarilla. But it is said that our Torrontes grapes, grown in Angastaco, are some of the best in the Valley.

We usually just sell the grapes to wineries who make a delicious white wine with it, and put their own label on the bottle. So we thought, why not make our own white wine? Perhaps we’ll call it Tacana Too.

Since Adrien set up the deal, he wanted to be there to make sure all went smoothly. But when he got to Yankee, parked right on the other end of the bridge, he discovered that she would not budge.

He walked up to La Arcadia through the sludge to meet the truck driver. Xavier, however, was unsure if they should make the expedition. With all the rain, he was concerned about state of the roads.

But after a few phone calls, they determined that it would be all right, and off they went.

During the day, our friend Tom, visiting with his wife and three children, made the thoughtful suggestion that we rescue Adrien’s truck.

I called our capataz, foreman, Antonio, who said he’d send Pablo with the tractor. He’d be there in twenty to thirty minutes.

Tom called his kids, thinking they’d enjoy the adventure.

“Is Ramona coming too?”, Penny, the youngest, wanted to know.

My pup wagged her tail. I smiled.

“Looks like she wants to come.”

So all six of us set out in the heavy heat of the afternoon. When we arrived at the bridge there was no sign of Pablo, or Antonio.

We thought we’d try unsticking the truck ourselves. Finding some stones nearby, we wedged them under the wheels. I got in the drivers’ seat and put Yankee in four wheel drive. Tom and his two boys, Dusty and Miles, got behind and pushed while I revved the engine. The wheels just spun in place.

Getting ready to push Yankee. Photo credit: Mariah.

At that moment, Antonio came puttering along on his moped.

“Ya viene el tractor, Señora”, he called.

“Ah bueno”, I said, relinquishing my place in the drivers’ seat.

Pablo hooked a chain under the truck, and Tom hopped in to guide the wheels. Dusty sat in the bed.

Soon enough, Yankee was in the clear. Tom perched her on a dry bank. We thanked Pablo and Antonio, and made the hot walk back to the sala, the main house.

Pablo pulling Yankee out. Tom is in the drivers’ seat and Dusty in the bed. Photo credit: Mariah.

Late that night, Adrien returned, reporting that all had gone well, except for a flat tire along the way.

Today we’ll head up to Gualfín, stopping for lunch and groceries in Molinos.

Stay tuned for news from up there.

Abrazos,

Mariah

P.S. The afinadores, tuners, left our piano in fine fettle. Here’s Miqueas playing her once the work was done.