Napa Day 2: Giving Zero F*cks
What happens when Mandell-Rice sisters go to Napa? We go hiking, naturally.
Today, we trekked out to Armstrong Redwood Forest in search of steep hills and big ass trees. We found both. On the way there, however, we also found GF crackers, GF donuts, about a pound of cheese, and fig and apricot paste. All of which was delicious.
The hike itself was... well... interesting. Despite being a heavily visited area, signage was lacking. We had a map courtesy of the ranger station, but nevertheless ended up on multiple diversions through the woods.
After a approximately one mile jaunt up an access road, only to turn around and realize that if we'd walked an additional 20 feet or so, we'd have found the right trail (because FML), we got back on track down to the main attraction: big fucking redwoods.
That is a picture of Jenna in front of a redwood that was not as impressive THE REDWOOD, which was nearly 15 feet in diameter. To put this in perspective, that's about 3x as wide as the stump in the following:
Of course, we also found some other randomly huge trees. Because, you know, unlikely in a Red Wood forest.
After finally making it down the mountain, we ate some cheese and hit the road. There are places in California that need stop lights, not stop signs. The mile long back-up resulting from a stop sign was some epic bullshit.
Anyway, on the way back to Napa proper, we decided to stop in at the Carneros Estate, which as it turns out is owned by the Taittinger family. And was way classier than we expected. For fuck's sake, our waiter had a British accent.
Of course, we rolled up to Carneros/Taittinger covered in the sweat and grime that comes with a 7 mile hike in 85 degree heat, wearing gym clothes. The Brit waiter actually kinda thought we were locals because we weren't adorned in the usual "I'm in Napa" attire. As we sipped expensive sparking wine in gym clothes whilst stinking of sweat, we began referring to the "tasting" as the "giving zero fucks" happy hour. Here are some pictures to corroborate our story. We were super proud of ourselves. And our grossness.
Don't worry. Tomorrow we're not hiking. We're getting really drunk.
Sorry mom!
Today, we trekked out to Armstrong Redwood Forest in search of steep hills and big ass trees. We found both. On the way there, however, we also found GF crackers, GF donuts, about a pound of cheese, and fig and apricot paste. All of which was delicious.
The hike itself was... well... interesting. Despite being a heavily visited area, signage was lacking. We had a map courtesy of the ranger station, but nevertheless ended up on multiple diversions through the woods.
After a approximately one mile jaunt up an access road, only to turn around and realize that if we'd walked an additional 20 feet or so, we'd have found the right trail (because FML), we got back on track down to the main attraction: big fucking redwoods.
That is a picture of Jenna in front of a redwood that was not as impressive THE REDWOOD, which was nearly 15 feet in diameter. To put this in perspective, that's about 3x as wide as the stump in the following:
Of course, we also found some other randomly huge trees. Because, you know, unlikely in a Red Wood forest.
After finally making it down the mountain, we ate some cheese and hit the road. There are places in California that need stop lights, not stop signs. The mile long back-up resulting from a stop sign was some epic bullshit.
Anyway, on the way back to Napa proper, we decided to stop in at the Carneros Estate, which as it turns out is owned by the Taittinger family. And was way classier than we expected. For fuck's sake, our waiter had a British accent.
Of course, we rolled up to Carneros/Taittinger covered in the sweat and grime that comes with a 7 mile hike in 85 degree heat, wearing gym clothes. The Brit waiter actually kinda thought we were locals because we weren't adorned in the usual "I'm in Napa" attire. As we sipped expensive sparking wine in gym clothes whilst stinking of sweat, we began referring to the "tasting" as the "giving zero fucks" happy hour. Here are some pictures to corroborate our story. We were super proud of ourselves. And our grossness.
Don't worry. Tomorrow we're not hiking. We're getting really drunk.
Sorry mom!
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