Chapter 13: Early Spring Preparations (1)
TL: Hanguk
Around the time when the warm energy of early spring was spreading throughout Napa Valley, my father and I were leaving our farm work behind and heading somewhere.
“Do we really need to go this early?”
My father, who was driving an old used pickup truck we had bought secondhand, looked annoyed, but I firmly objected.
“Farming is about connections too. Especially wine. It’s not like we just taste it and set the price if it’s good. Wine is also a product, and trust in the brand is just as important. Sales are decided by how we market it.”
“Well... I guess that’s true.”
“That’s why we have to make sure to show our faces and attend events like this, and leave the impression that we’re constantly working to make good wine. Think about it. A farm that stays completely quiet and suddenly releases wine, versus a farm that keeps promoting that it’s making good products and then releases wine. Which one would you buy?”
“You’re definitely right.”
My father, who was striving for success, immediately accepted my words and wiped away his look of annoyance.
The morning of the event was bright and clear. As if today’s seminar were heralding a bright future for Napa Valley, the Vineyards spread out on both sides of the road toward the venue shimmered with green leaves, showing off their fresh vitality.
Dad and I parked the car in front of an old winery building in Sonoma County where the Napa Valley Vintners seminar was being held. From the entrance, I could see various farm owners and local experts who had come for the event warmly shaking hands and chatting.
“Wow, there are really a lot of people.”
Dad looked around with a somewhat surprised expression. Since this was his first official event since entering the wine business, I could feel his tension. I smiled slightly as I patted his shoulder.
“The information you get from seminars like this is really useful. It’s a good opportunity, so don’t be too nervous.”
As we entered, an outdoor garden bathed in warm sunlight and an old-fashioned brick building behind it unfolded before our eyes. The seminar venue was a cozy auditorium where old bricks and wooden pillars blended together, and it was already bustling with many people. The atmosphere, filled with jokes and laughter exchanged among people who seemed to know each other well, gave off both seriousness and warmth at the same time.
At the front of the auditorium, a large banner reading [Sustainable Viticulture and Winemaking, Napa Valley Vintners] was hung prominently, and on the stage, the seminar presenters were checking their presentation materials. Seeing even local broadcasting station cameras set up made me realize once again how important this event was in the regional agricultural community.
When the seminar began, the host greeted everyone with a bright smile and a calm voice.
“Thank you all for taking the time out of your busy schedules to attend the Napa Valley Vintners seminar. Today will be a valuable opportunity to share various ideas and information for the development of Napa Valley’s wine industry.”
With applause, the seminar got into full swing. First, a soil science professor from UC Davis, where I hoped to enroll, came out and clearly conveyed the regulations local farms must follow while emphasizing recently researched soil and water quality management methods and the importance of environmentally friendly organic farming.
The next speaker was the representative of an environmental protection organization, who strongly appealed that competitiveness could no longer be maintained while ignoring sustainable farming and environmental protection, mentioning the recent incident that occurred at Silver Oak Farm. Especially when his sharp remarks came out, a tense atmosphere spread among the audience along with quiet murmurs.
“The incident at Silver Oak Farm is no longer just a problem for one part of our region’s agriculture. If sustainable farming practices are not followed, it could deal a major blow to the reputation of the entire region in the long term. This is the time for everyone to be vigilant.”
As soon as this presentation ended, Dad and I used the break time to head toward the back of the auditorium. At that moment, a familiar face appeared at the edge of my vision.
“Huh? Dad, that person...”
“Ah!”
It was Elowen Pike, the owner of Silver Oak Farm. And beside him stood Elaina, whom I had seen at school, along with a boy who looked about my height.
Elowen looked shockingly haggard. Even if not to the extent of Jacob, he had once been a large man with a confident air, but now, as if he had suffered severe emotional distress, he had lost a great deal of weight. It was easy to guess just how much damage he had taken from this incident.
He seemed to have noticed us as well and approached this way with a hesitant expression, and although he had lost weight, the condescending look in his eyes was unchanged.
“It’s been a while. What was your name again?”
“Woody Choi.”
“Ah, Woody. That’s a name that suits Redwood well.”
Dad extended his hand out of courtesy, and I also gave a slight bow. Only now did he ask my name, then he turned his gaze to me.
“Good to see you again. I hear you’re quite smart?”
“......”
“Thanks to you, two hundred thousand dollars just vanished into thin air.”
My father, who had been listening, stepped in.
“Are you saying that was because of my son!”
“Ah, ah, don’t misunderstand. After listening to the seminar presentation earlier, I realized a lot. Our farm made a big sacrifice for Napa Valley and California, but as a result many farm owners will become more vigilant, so I thought it actually turned out well. Of course, since this outcome came about thanks to your child, I thought I should at least let you know.”
It was blatant pressure, but instead I smiled.
“I see. That’s unfortunate. Next harvest, you’ll be able to get a high price with good wine, so in the long run, it will come back as a big benefit to Napa Valley.”
In short, it meant that I did not know or care that he was screwed, and that things would be good for us anyway, so he looked like he had just taken a direct hit.
“... I suppose so.”
“We were hit hard by pests and disease last year, and Silver Oak Farm had bad issues due to pesticides, so this year we should be able to compete fair and square. I’m already looking forward to how the results will turn out. What do you think?”
“What did you say? You want to compete with us?”
“Yes. We’re planning to enter our farm’s grapes in the Table Grape category this year as well.”
A fierce heat flared up in Elowen’s eyes.
“That sounds interesting. Let’s see who wins.”
“I’m really looking forward to it too!”
Cheerfully getting under Elowen’s skin, I avoided the sharp glares of his children and led my father away from the spot.
After that, at the seminar, I met many people involved in winemaking and distribution and exchanged business cards. Although grape distribution would be entrusted to the former farm owner John Anderson for two years, it was still good to secure plenty of contacts just in case.
And most importantly, it was necessary to plant the perception among them that the owner of Redwood Farm had changed and that it would produce grapes of much higher quality than before.
After finishing all of that and heading back to the farm, I spoke to Dad.
“Please take me to UC Davis.”
“Why there?”
“There’s something I need to pick up.”
“Alright.”
The campus, bathed in California sunlight, was lively with the arrival of spring, and the agricultural biology department’s research building was bustling with students coming and going.
“Wow, universities really are different.”
Suppressing my excitement, I walked down the laboratory corridor. In front of the tightly packed lab doors lining both sides of the narrow hallway, various posters and research papers were posted, and from all around, I could hear researchers earnestly discussing things.
At last, I found the lab with a sign that read [Soil & Plant Microbiology Lab]. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
A soft, gentle male voice came from inside. When I opened the door and stepped in, a middle-aged professor with silver hair and a short beard looked up at me from between stacks of documents piled on his desk.
“Oh, are you a student? How can I help you?”
“Hello, Professor. I’m from Redwood Farm in Napa Valley. I’m here to receive the pure microbial culture solution we discussed over the phone last time.”
As I spoke carefully, the professor nodded with an “Ah” expression and flipped through his papers.
“Ah, right. Brian Choi? You said you were a high school student?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
The professor set the documents down, slowly stood up from his seat, and walked over to a refrigerator on one side of the lab. After a moment, he returned holding three small glass bottles taken from inside the fridge. Inside the bottles were clear liquids, each bearing a label: ‘Azospirillum (Azospirillum brasilense: nitrogen-fixing bacteria)’, ‘Bacillus subtilis (Bacillus subtilis; hay bacillus)’, and ‘Fluorescent Pseudomonas (Pseudomonas fluorescens; fluorescent bacteria)’.
“Here, these are the pure microbial cultures you requested. But I’m curious, why would a high school student want to take something like this?”
The professor asked while looking at me with curious eyes.
For a moment, without panicking, I naturally brought out the answer I had prepared in advance.
“One of the projects our school’s Agriscience Club is working on is researching the soil improvement effects of microorganisms. The role I’m responsible for is experimenting with how much the grape cultivation environment can be improved using microbes.”
The professor raised his eyebrows slightly, as if intrigued.
“Agriscience Club, huh... that’s a good activity. I didn’t know high school students these days were doing research like this. Who did you say your supervising teacher was?”
Momentarily flustered, I quickly smiled and made an excuse.
“It’s Teacher Miller, who’s in charge of agricultural classes... He emphasized that this kind of research is absolutely necessary for our club.”
The professor nodded, carefully placed the bottles containing the microbial cultures into a protective foam box, and handed it to me.
“Alright, make sure you store them properly on your way back. Don’t forget to maintain the temperature and environment. Especially Azospirillum is sensitive to oxygen conditions, so be sure to take extra care to prevent it from coming into contact with air.”
“Yes, Professor. Thank you.”
I quickly took the culture box, bowed my head, and hurried out of the lab, running toward the pickup truck where Dad was waiting.
“Let’s go!”
Dad, not knowing what was going on, got me into the truck and started driving.
“What did you bring out?”
“I’ll show you later.”
After we arrived home, I called out to my father and mother, who were taking a short rest.
“Mom, Dad. Please gather for a moment. I’ll show you one more new thing.”
My parents, already aware that I would not be farming using only commercially sold fertilizer due to the biochar compound fertilizer, came out with curious expressions.
“Is it what you brought earlier? Is there something new besides the biochar compound fertilizer?”
Thinking that their son was about to teach them something new again, Dad came out holding a camera, and Mom had a notebook and pen in her hands.
“The biochar compound fertilizer is basically like a smart sponge you bury in the ground. The charcoal powder holds onto moisture and nutrients for a long time, while fully matured compost supplies organic matter and microorganisms, boosting the soil’s overall vitality.”
“And?”
“What we’re making this time is a bit different. It’s sort of... an air fertilizer pack, I guess?”
“Air fertilizer pack?”
“Me saying we’d go out and win at the Table Grape competition wasn’t just empty talk. You know what factor has the biggest impact on fruit quality, right?”
“I know. Isn’t it nitrogen?”
I smiled and pointed to the plastic bottles I had brought.
“Yes. The air fertilizer pack we’re about to make adds nitrogen to the soil.”