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2001 Engineer-Farmer has faith that his new vines will yield good wines By Chuck Martin, The Cincinnati Enquirer Ripley, Ohio -- Ron Barrett kneels in the tan earth, as if worshiping his first crop of grapes. His scissors dart in and out of the faded foliage of the vines like the beak of a hungry bird. Snip-snip. He lops off bunches of dusty-purple cabernet franc grapes, slightly larger than blueberries, and tosses them into a shallow plastic tray. "This is about as good as it gets for third leaf," Mr. Barrett says, admiring fruit from vines he planted less than three years ago. When his tray fills, he lugs it to the end of the row where Nancy Bentley -- his partner and companion of 11 years -- stands, snuggled in a red jacket, waiting to weigh the grapes. It's a fairy-tale morning. The air is crisp, the blue, cloudless October sky is stitched with white jet trails and a light wind barely rustles blushing leaves on the vines. But there's reason other than the elemtns for the owners of Kinkead Ridge Vineyard, near here on the Ohio River, to celebrate. Finally, after more than four years of researching vineyard locations, planting and pruning vines and battling pesky robins and raccoons, the partners have grapes to crush. In less than two years, the cabernet franc will go into bottles bearing their label. Harvesting grapes is tricky. In order to make the best wine, Mr. Barrett wnats the grapes to hang on the vine as long as possible, to mature and sweeten intensely. For this harvest, he checked long-range weather forecasts -- rain can dilute the flavor the grapes and frost will kill them. Then he measured the fruit's sugar and acid levels with scientific instruments and, more importantly, with his own taste buds. "Even the seeds in these grapes have ripened," Mr. Barrett says, explaining that green, unripened grape seeds can make red wines too puckery and tannic. Bacchus and the other gods have smiled on Kinkead Ridge's first harvest, and Mr. Barrett is justifiably pleased. More than a few might have bet against this, though -- not only because the partners are growing grapes where no wine grapes have grown before, but because of the kind of grapes they're growing. While other Ohio producers mostly grow sturdy French hybrid varieties, Mr. Barrett and Ms. Bentley planted five acres of vinifera grapes -- cabernet franc, cabernet sauvignon, syrah and sauvignon blanc, among others -- that make the best wines. The catch: Ohio's cold winters can severely damage -- even kill -- vinifera grapes. That didn't dissuade the determined, daring "Ripley Rangers" of Kinkead Ridge Vineyard, who planted their grapes on a finger of land that juts out above ravines and rolling cow pastures. "French hybrids made bad wine," asserts Mr. Barrett, who, with full brows and ample head of silver-streaked hair, looks like a gruff Garrison Keillor." Even mediocre vinifera make better wine that the best French hybrids." Following a dream If anyone can pull this off, it might be the Kinkead Ridg partners. She is a former graphic designer turned computer information specialist who later earned a culinary arts degree and worked as a chef. He was an electrical engineer for a company in Portland, Ore., before retiring to work in that state's fledgling wine industry in the mid 1980s. The couple met in 1975 while living in Oregon and married to different spouses. They renewed their relationship in 1989 -- after they had divorced and Ms. Bentley had returned from living in California. Mr. Barrett helped her move into a ski cabin in the Cascade Mountains, and they've been together since. Mr. Barrett raised and sold pinot noir grapes to wineries in Oregon's Willamette Valley near Portland until 1997. That's when the Columbus native, who grew up working on his grandfather's farm in central Ohio, came home to make wine. Ms. Bentley came with him, although she admits it wasn't easy leaving her favorite markets and restaurants for the sparsely populated countryside of near-Ripley. "I think Ron deserved the chance to follow his dream," she says. Of course, her companion is no ordinary dreamer. Instead of locating his operation in northern Ohio, where most of the state's wineries crush and bottle, Mr. Barrett wanted to move to this part of southern Ohio, where tobacco has reigned as cash-crop king for nearly two centuries. He believed the soil and climactic conditions near Ripley are best for growing red wine grapes -- and he wanted to concentrate on making red wine. "If I wanted to follow the crowd, I could've stayed in Oregon," he says. Mr. Barrett planned to plant his vineyard on the Ohio River, but discovered the land was too expensive. He and Ms. Bentley saw the Kinkead Ridge property (they named it Kinkead because it was the name of the Scottish family who settled there in the late 19th century) on an Internet real estate site. But before buying it, Mr. Barrett had to study (as an engineer, he studies everything) the location and soil to make sure it would sustain his grapes. "He wanted the right soil, and I wanted the right house," Ms. Bentley says. It was a fair compromise. An 1880 Gothic Revival farmhouse sat on the property, and Mr. Barrett was satisfied the location was close enough to the river to moderate temperatures for the vineyard. In 1997, the couple and four cats moved in to renovate the house (Ms. Bentley's priority was installing a professional gas stove) and map out their vineyard. Although her trendy haircut and gourmet cooking may seem out of place in rural southern Ohio, Ms. Bentley, who grew up in Staten Island, N.Y., and lived briefly in London, has adjusted to the country life. Now, she prefers the sunshine of the Midwest over the gray, raindy days of Oregon. "I helped a turtle cross the road and I'm taking banjo lessons," she says proudly. Getting help a challenge After getting their house in order (and conducting more research), the partners ordered several varieties of grafted grapevines in 1999. That winter, they nurtured the baby vines in the warmth of a vacant room of their house before planting the leafless sticks in May with the help of two teen-agers. Finding skilled and dependable labor is a challenge. The five-acre vineyard doesn't justify hiring a full-time worker, but the pruning, other maintenance and harvest does require part-time help. Mr. Barrett lost one of his best part-timers to the McDonald's in Ripley, but then found Gretchen Yaus, who averages 15 hours a week working at the vineyard. Unfortunately, on the day of the cabernet franc harvest, Ms. Yaus is off on her honeymoon. The Kinkead owners have brought in her younger sister, Courtnee Farrell, and three other women to help pick. Only one of them has ever set foot in a vineyard. "This isn't too bad," says Lori Godby, as she stoops to clip bunches of the jewel-like grapes. A two-time tobacco plug champion (that's sticking tobacco seedlings into the ground), Ms. Godby met Ms. Bentley at the Ripley Tobacco Festival last fall. "I just thought it was kind of interesting when I heard what they were doing here," says Ms. Godby, whose husband's family has farmed tobacco for generations. "We drove by here and I wondered what was going on." The Kinkead Ridge partners also have caught the attention of wine grape experts, such as Dr. David Ferree, an Ohio State horticulture professor in Wooster who has coached vineyardists since 1994. Growing exclusively vinifera in Ohio is risky, he says, because a cold winter can damage the vines, leaving the producer little or nothing to harvest. But he is impressed with what the man from Oregon has accomplished. "It's an ideal grape location," says Dr. Ferree. "He's done a lot of homework. I admire people who try to answer all the tough questions." Always his toughest critic, Mr. Barrett might not agree completely with that assessment. He is still figuring out which grape varieties grow best in his vineyard, mostly by trial and error. The sangiovese doesn't like the humidity, he has learned, and the merlot shivers in the cold. But he is unwavering in the belief this is one of the best site in Ohio to grow quality wine grapes. The limestone soil drains well and is just fertile enough to yield intensely flavored fruit. "This soil couldn't be more perfect to grow grapes," he says. As to the challenge of growing only fragile vinifera, Mr. Barrett recalls when he was an engineer in the 1980s that some people said the Americans couldn't make a better oscilloscope (an instrument that display electrical waves) than the Japanese. They did "A lack of progress is assured if you don't try," he says. There is so much more to do. After finishing this harvest in the afternoon, he will haul 2 tons of cabernet franc 250 miles north to a winery near Akron. There, he will work for more than 12 hours without sleep, crushing his grapes. Next spring, the partners hope to start construction on their winery in Ripley, which will require more decisions, more investments, more work. But on this stunning morning of harvest, the tireless engineer-farmer is willing to relish the culmination of his efforts and the grace of nature. "I don't think you'll find any better fruit in this country," he says, raving. Then he falls on his knees to snip more grapes.
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