We planted our vineyard in 2006 on Rock Flour Hill in the Columbia Valley AVA, just outside The Dalles, Oregon. It’s big land, steep and dramatic (Scott says, “Pleasantly curvaceous”), a place of bright sky and wind from April through October, and cold winters, often with ice and snow. It’s clear the vines do not love it here; it’s more like an acceptance. But oh, the grapes they grow.


Out in a spirited, Western landscape the dream of a grown-up Kansas farm kid finally takes shape: a small, family vineyard planted in a sea of wheat, waiting, waiting, for the wines that will come from it.


Our wines were never meant to emulate, never meant to be the same year in and year out, but simply be an extension of ourselves, our land, and always unmistakably The Grande Dalles.


There is more to terroir or placeness than a patch of land. It’s also the heart, soul and dreams of the people farming the vineyard and making its wine.


Dare to venture off the well-worn path and it might lead to such a ruggedly grand adventure, and to the people, place, and wines that make it so.