A story about sublime beauty, land rights, and the wealthiest land owning families in America. Surely we're talking about wine country?
Taylor Sheridan's hit series Yellowstone follows the powerful landowning mafia -- I mean family -- the Duttons, and their ranch in Montana. John Dutton's control over his family, local politics, and a massive cattle ranch paint a beautiful picture of life in the American west. But what looks like beauty from a distance is, up close, a series of decisions about survival and legacy.
"When you look at that calf what do you see?
"I see a life I gotta defend until it grows up and feeds me."
"That's exactly what a cowboy should see. But a cattleman sees a $293 investment worth $1100 in seven months, whether it feeds anyone or not." - James Dutton, Yellowstone
And in much the same ways, Napa Valley landowners conceive of, protect, defend, and strategize about their own land. Recent natural disasters, like the Glass fires in 2020, or the ongoing Pickett Fire Case reflect the huge investments in the wine country and the stakes of managing vineyards, and the big business behind every painstakingly pruned vine, every drop that makes up a precious bottle. But what happens when we start to conflate "survival" and "living off the fat of the land" with our rights to grow our property-assets? And why do we travel over middle America in hopes that we will get to see our favorite winemaker in overalls?
Yellowstone centers on a cattle ranch in Montana, but it could just as easily be a story about land ownership in Texas, where Sheridan grew up, or wine country. Others have made the wine-oil-cattle ranch connection. In a listing for stunning Napa Valley ranch called Glendale Ranch, listing agent Erin Lail of Coldwall Banker Brokers of the Valley highlights its strategic positioning: "It's arguably the crown jewel of Napa Valley. This is not just a property; it’s an opportunity to invest in a legacy that can be cherished for generations to come in the heart of Napa Valley.” The listing describes the property as "sublime" and "incomparable" with 40 acres of vineyards.
Current owners of Glendale Ranch conceive of themselves as stewards of the land, much like the Duttons do:
Raw land, wild land, free land can never be owned. Some men pay dearly for the privilege of its stewardship... - Elsa Dutton, 1883
"With hundreds of plantable acres, secured water rights and a canvas that extends from the private valley floor to the ridge lines, their decisions will influence this landscape for generations to come." - Glendale Ranch owners Lindsey Wiseman, Andrew Green
The listing also details the establishment of the ranch by Daniel Fasker, Texas oil magnate, in 1938, using the refreshingly honest term, holdings. It also cites farming development for use of the George Yount family in the early 1800s, and acknowledges the long stewardship of the land by the Onasatis people.
It's interesting that, despite its current, active management, we must go back 1880s to really give credence to this idyllic vision of the gentleman farmer. It's equally interesting that this period marks reconstruction: a tumultuous period focused on reintegrating former Confederate states, reconstructing the Southern economy, and establishing the rights of four million African Americans who had never before been allowed to own property.
After 140 years of continued "stewardship", what has changed? What would it really take to hold onto this land for another century? After closing, what are the continued maintenance costs of owning and protecting something considered this valuable, fertile, and potentially exploitable? What unseemly behavior is written off as the cost of doing business of any mega landowner? And if this valuable land is preserved, would we still package it for re-sale by touting its' potential for extraction?
But for those of us that want to enjoy our trip to Napa Wine Valley, we suspend our disbelief and let ourselves be swept away by the myth of the gentleman farmer, a sharp man, rugged and untamed, who shows mastery over the elements and still makes time for family dinner. A man who no longer exists today, and probably never did. Now, If only Sheridan could find a way to bottle that up....
Try Taylor Sheridan's 1883 Reserve Napa Cab, an messy homage to extractive corporate agriculture, in partnership with Tim McGraw, a man who made his first millions selling tickets to middle class Americans who... for some reason, like songs about people who live off the land.... https://1883napa.com/
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