Mayacamas Vineyards has been producing mountain-estate wines since 1941. Not a misprint: 1941.
Forty years ago, when I first started writing about wine, there was a group of Bay Area wine writers—there were barely a dozen of us in those antediluvian times—who would routinely show up for any new winery opening. It was a rare occurrence and (let’s be honest) we had nothing better to do.
Today, wineries sprout up like mushrooms after a December rain and it takes half a dozen superlative vintages to begin to pique our interest. The system is running on full overload and it’s nearly impossible to keep up with all the “flavor of the month” newbies.
In that context, it’s an absolute pleasure to sit back and luxuriate in the presence of a winery that’s not only paid its dues—in this case, with many dozens of successive superlative vintages—and offer obeisance to a winery that’s quietly gone about the business of producing singular mountain-estate wines since…1941. Not a misprint: 1941.
Bob Travers and his family have been sailing this ship known as Mayacamas Vineyards since 1968, and have a resounding string of excellent vintages that speak forcefully about their credibility. Their philosophy is basic: “We’re just the size we want to be,” says Bob, a lean ex-basketball and tennis player (golf now—the knees, don’t you know) who did his schooling at Stanford and his life experience in the Air Force. “The trouble with trying to get bigger, for us, is that you end up spending every penny on that growth. You don’t really get anything useful out of it. For us, it’s far more interesting to try and make wines that are better, more complex and more interesting. For us, 4,000 cases annually is economically viable.
“I think the question you finally have to ask it this: What do you want to spend your time doing? If you’re an absentee owner, it wouldn’t work at this case level. But if you don’t mind being—and are maybe even intrigued by being—vineyard manager, winemaker, sales and marketing specialist, well then, this works just fine. Assuming, of course, you’re not dead set on getting rich!”
The marketplace, the wines
“The ‘market’ is, of course, a large and diverse creature,” Travers adds. “Basically, we’re trying not to make more than the market wants. We don’t use as many avenues as a lot of places do to get to it, but we do use several. Our newsletter is important, we feel, as are face-to-face contacts during winemaker dinners, sales meetings with distributors and store and restaurant visits. Getting people to come to us is very effective due, in large part, to our unusual location with its natural charms. Actual sales visits aren’t a big part of our budget, averaging only around 5 percent of revenues. My son Chris does, however, spend most of his time on sales and marketing. I spend very little.
“We’ve found that, especially in recent times, our situation is of interest to many. Small, old, family-owned and -operated wineries have a broad appeal, and not all the attention is being paid to the new [wineries]. A track record of style and quality is just what many seem to be looking for. This isn’t a totally new development, but it does seem to have grown in importance lately.
“In 1968, Zinfandel Rosé was our biggest item, nearly one-quarter of our production, Chardonnay a little less and Cabernet Sauvignon about half of that. We had 20 wines on the shelf, not all made by us and some imported. Today, Cabernet Sauvignon is close to half of what we make, Chardonnay about one quarter, and Sauvignon Blanc, Merlot and Pinot Noir vary quite a bit to make up the rest.”
“The identity, I think, of Mayacamas in today’s world of wine is wrapped up in the authenticity of expression of our land here on Mount Veeder through old-school winemaking techniques,” says sales and marketing maven Chris Travers. “Essentially, that comes down to an approach that emphasizes balanced ripeness in the vineyard—rather than the hyper-ripeness that’s been prevailing elsewhere lately—and nonmanipulated wines rather than the manufactured quality that defines so many of today’s wines. So, where some other Cabernet Sauvignons, for example, might be almost syrupy or Port-like, our Cabs have fruit, tannin and acidity in a classical equilibrium. What results is a wine that goes very well with food and that you can also lay down for a long time and see transform into something greater, and more complex, than the younger version of itself, without losing its vibrancy and its core of fruit. That’s what Mayacamas wine has always been about.”
Newsletter as a marketing tool
One of the marketing tools that’s been employed by Mayacamas since the outset is a quaint, folksy newsletter. Co-owner Mary Taylor penned the first one in November 1949, opening with this classic sentence: “Our first planting was destroyed by deer, the second by rabbits, the third by grasshoppers and the fourth by a particularly voracious type of small blue jay, but we confidently look forward to having our first crop in 1950 and will make our first white wine [Chardonnay] from it.” There’s your overcoming-all-odds in a nutshell. (Taylor later penned a memoir about her family’s early days of frustration-turned-success, titled Ten Cents a Grape, the implication being that they could never charge enough per bottle to recoup that extravagant outlay.)
Chris says he still relies on the precepts Mary Taylor set down with her newsletters. “I think it really helps us maintain our identity in the contemporary wine world and all that that implies. My approach has been to maintain the 70-year tradition of the Mayacamas newsletter, which goes back to the beginning of the ancien regime of the Taylors, and communicate the style and essence of Mayacamas, as a winery and as a family home, in my natural voice. I usually try to tell a little story or give a little insight as to what is going on at the winery or with the family at the time. People always seem to really connect with a good story—it’s built into our DNA, I think. The Internet now gives us a chance to have that newsletter more visible than was previously possible; we can communicate our entire historical narrative and include some photos of the place. It’s usual, I suppose, in that everyone does this, but I feel we have an unusually compelling story to tell. It all helps to forge a connection with people.
“On top of that, I’m constantly traveling to different markets and meeting individual wine customers at small events, winemaker dinners, pourings in wine bars and the like—shaking hands and kissing babies. I frequently visit our distributors, tell our story to sales teams and ride with them to meet and taste with the wine buyers and sommeliers at shops and restaurants. I strive to constantly make that personal connection and use those opportunities to explain why our wines are the way they are and why we believe in them so much. In sticking to that authentic explanation—and by just being myself—the difference between ourselves and other wineries becomes evident. When you’re not pulling anyone’s leg, they instinctively get it. All they see, I guess, is this guy with a healthy beer gut walk in the door and tell them they should check out this old-school, traditional, classically structured wine. I tell them how it’s made and then we drink together. I think they can tell I mean it when I say I don’t know what the heck Robert Parker makes of our juice these days—and I don’t really care. We’re making wines we believe in, because they’re good.”
An interesting life
Chris was born in 1970, two years after his folks, Bob and Nonie Travers, bought the estate from the Taylors. “All of my earliest memories are of Mayacamas,” says Chris, who earned a degree in Romance Studies (Spanish Literature) from Duke University in 1993. “Part of my studies included a year in Madrid; then I went to Chile to work on a farm where they grew tomatoes, peaches and other crops, including table grapes. I eventually came home and went to work as a white water river guide in the Sierra Nevadas for a summer. “In the fall of 1994, I went to France to work the harvest and then pruned all winter at Chateau La Tour Blanche in Sauternes. After a harvest at home at Mayacamas in 1995, I returned to Bordeaux in 1996 to work the harvest at Chateau Margaux. During my time in France, I explored the wine regions of the country extensively—Bordeaux, Burgundy, Champagne, the Rhone and then a trip south to Rioja, and then on to Porto and the Vinho Verde region [Amarante] in Portugal—in an old Citroen I bought on the cheap.” The next few years he spent selling Mayacamas throughout the United States while renting a studio apartment in San Francisco. “I’d come back to Mayacamas to work at the ranch when needed, and for harvests. Then, in 1999, I left for another stint abroad, this time to work the crush at Mount Mary Vineyard in the Yarra Valley of Australia. “After my time in Australia, I took a year off from the wine business to backpack around Asia—climbing mountains in the Himalayas, catching a ride up the Mekong River in Laos on the top of a cargo barge, generally traveling on a shoestring, all the while deepening an interest in Asian culture, especially Buddhism. Since then, Buddhism has been a major focus for me. I married my wife, Dolma, who’s from Nepal, after having met her in Kathmandu on one of my many subsequent trips there. I’ve been back at Mayacamas in a full-time capacity since 2006. I’m now vice president, vineyard manager and associate winemaker. I also manage sales and marketing and frequently travel to markets around the country to promote and sell Mayacamas wines.”
The voice of experience
Sacramento wine retailer Darrell Corti (Corti Brothers) is the most knowledgeable, informed marketing man I know; his judgment is unassailable. “Mayacamas is a unique Napa Valley estate. Since 1968, when the Travers took it over from its founders, the winemaking style hasn’t changed much, if at all. Its Cabernet Sauvignon remains one of the longest-lived mountain-grown Cabernets of Napa Valley. When looking at the wine, I’m reminded of what Napa Valley wine tasted like before the long hang-time, before the high brix and before new wood took over Napa Valley winemaking.
“There are people who want to have a wine be expressive of where it comes from. Most consumers don’t care where a wine comes from, but are cognizant of what score it got. To me, it is far more important that the wine ‘speaks to a place’ with little [winemaking] intervention. Mayacamas wines take their own time to develop. They last a long time and speak of a place, of their mountain vineyards, the hardscrabble growing cycle and of simply good winemaking without too much falderol and time.”
As a retailer, Corti has admiration and respect for the fact that “Mayacamas holds back a certain quantity of Cabernet for re-release at a later date. This way, if one wasn’t provident enough to lay down a vintage, it can still be bought [at a higher price, of course] and enjoyed when it’s much older. There are very few in Napa Valley with this sense of customer accommodation.
Much the same thing can be said of Mayacamas Chardonnay, which, in some respect, speaks to its roots even more than Cabernet. At 10 years of age, Mayacamas Chardonnay is just losing its baby fat and gaining in bouquet and flavor. Most Napa Valley Chardonnays at that age are simply shot. At Corti Brothers, we’ve sold Mayacamas wines since 1963, since before the Travers bought the winery. In some respects, it’s the oldest California wine producer we sell. The wines were good then and are good now. Who else has that continuity or longevity?”
True value
One question fascinates: What would, say, the Cabernet Sauvignon have to sell for if someone bought the property at today’s prices? “That’s a tough one,” says Bob fretfully. “Decent appraisals cost a lot of money and take some time. Horseback guesses can be way off the mark. Just to make a stupid guess, I’d say our prices might have to be nearly double what they are, maybe more.”
“Oh, I think the sky’s the limit!” weighs in Corti. “It would probably be impossible to plant a vineyard such as theirs for any reasonable sum of money. And building the buildings, who knows? The farming costs alone would be outrageous given the terrain and slopes. It takes dedication to do real mountain farming. In Italian, it’s called ‘heroic viticulture.’
“Here’s the thing you have to understand about Mayacamas: Its wines are done out of love and respect for the land and a way of life. Since it’s fallen through the cracks, Mayacamas is one of the un-thought-of wineries now, with a loyal clientele that keeps on buying and consuming the wines. If Bob Travers were to be like more of his colleagues, he should charge twice (or thrice) what he gets now. But I think he’s happy with what he gets and it doesn’t bother him. This is real old school Napa Valley. Being off the valley floor—and without a tasting room along Highway 29—Mayacamas is simpler and more natural. If you want to get there, you can. But like most of the really fine things in life, it takes a bit more effort.”
In the end, it’s about a true and abiding appreciation of the 400-acre estate, both for its vinous personality and for its wild and primitive beauty. Standing on a basalt rim rock ledge above one vineyard bowl, the whole of the Bay Area sits at your feet, from the twin peaks of Mount Diablo in Contra Costa County, past the twin towers of the Golden Gate Bridge to the sweeping headland that reaches its peak at Mount Tamalpais (a skyline profile that reminds me of the old Pontiac hood ornament). “Most nights, come rain or come shine, I hike up there,” says Travers softly. “This is primal, wild country. That, and the quality of the Chardonnay was what first caught our fancy back in 1968. Still does.”
Ah, the Wines (All Napa Valley/Mt. Veeder appellation)
Sauvignon Blanc 2010: Quince, sweet celery and lime, with an oily, mineral-based texture that spreads out all over the palate.
Chardonnay 2005: Butter and bread dough aromas that are beguiling and inviting. Rich in texture; ripe in flavor; ready to go right now.
Chardonnay 2009: Crisp and lively with Fuji apple and a hint of pie crust. Tasty!
Pinot Noir 2007: Ripe plum and black cherry fruit that’s forward and charming at the same time. Class tells.
Merlot 2007: Green olive and cassis, with a touch of gunpowder and green tea to knit it all together.
Cabernet Sauvignon 1999: This was a favorite even when it was younger, with silky, plush violets, black currant and toffee. The wine is beautifully rounded out now, with blackberry and violet fruit that extends on the palate almost endlessly.
Cabernet Sauvignon 2006: Still young, this wine has that meaty, mineral quality that makes the blackberry, cranberry and black currant fruit that much more pronounced. And that little bit of anise on the edge. Be patient.
A former private pilot—like Bob Travers—Hinkle is the author of nine wine books, has written winery newsletters for multiple wineries, and takes on business-writing projects of all sorts. You can see his work at www.RichardPaulHinkle.com.
