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	Back in 1775 the noble Riesling grapes ripened well during the unusually hot summer.
	story and photographs Alex Eberspaecher Overlooking the Rhine River near Mainz, the grapes on the hill below Schloss Johannisberg looked promising by fall, but for unknown reasons, the Bishop of Trier had not sent word that the harvest could begin. In those days and for the next hundred years or so, the church controlled the harvest and most of the wines were confiscated by the local houses of worship to be sold at a rather handsome profit. By late September the vines were loaded with the golden fruit, but there was still no word from the Bishop. The desperate farmers took matters in their own hands and sent a horseman off to seek permission to begin harvest. It is here that history becomes somewhat shrouded, as it appears that our dispatch rider, as many young men do, met somebody interesting somewhere along the road. Her identity was never established, but we know that the delay was considerable because when the young man finally returned to Schloss Johannisberg two weeks later with the Bishop’s permission, the grapes were over-ripe and unsuitable to make wine. In spite of the over-ripe grapes, the local farmers decided to see what could be salvaged and began a harvest that was to change the whole concept of winemaking. Instead of a spoiled wine, the over-ripe berries produce a very sweet but elegant Riesling wine that will last in good years much longer than a normal harvest. This event marks the beginning of the Spaetlese, or Late Harvest wine making, as we know it here. Today the Vineyards near Schloss Johannisberg continue to produce outstanding Riesling wines. Although many other regions and countries have attempted, usually without success, to use the name for marketing purposes, there is really no Johannisberg Riesling, other than that which is grown and produced in the original vineyard below the old castle. The Church of course no longer controls the wine industry, but the Rhine still controls very much the environment that creates splendid Rieslings. At its source, the Rhine is a small mountain brook that emanates somewhere in the Swiss Alps. From here on, downhill toward Lake Konstanz, the vineyards become more frequent and the Chasselas wines more delicious. As the Rhine enters the lake in Germany, vineyards are fairly common. The shore along the north side of Lake Konstanz, or the Bodensee as it is called in Europe, appears to be an endless sea of vineyards that produce mostly Riesling and occasionally some decent Pinot Noir wines. With a few exceptions, the wine areas along the river never end until the Rhine is joined by the river Mosel not far from Cologne, near the border to the Netherlands. Traveling westward along the Rhine from Lake Konstanz toward Basel, the vineyards are spotty. As the river changes course to are spotty. As the river changes course to the north, the vineyards of the Baden Region on the east banks and, for a good distance the rolling hills of the French Alsace Region on the west side, take over again. Riesling is still king here. Baden is also one of the few German wine regions that produce some good red Pinot Noirs. The vineyards are frequently large and located alongside the generally flat river area up to the gently rolling hills that eventually end up near the Black Forest to the east. It is not until we reach the Pfalz Region, a considerable distance downstream, that the vineyards become steeper and Riesling becomes king again. As we travel now on the river, downstream through Hessen and into the Rheingau area, the vineyards become astonishingly steep and one has to admire anybody who would attempt to cultivate the terrain. Interrupted only by sheer rocky stretches that make it impossible to be worked into vineyards, numerous medieval castles appear in the most unlikely places on both sides of the Rhine. Although many of those fortresses are now decayed into historic ruins, quite a number are still privately inhabited and a few have been restored to romantic hotels. The scenery often is spectacular as we drive alongside the river sampling wines with the local dishes. A cruise on a Rhine ship can be a fabulous and relaxing experience and staying in one of the restored castle hotels can be a story in itself. One night, well after the sun had set behind the vineyards, I was admiring my restored room that apparently was located in the tower section of the fortress. Sipping my second, or perhaps my third glass of complimentary sherry, I noticed that there was a tiny balcony that held a single chair and a small table. This was the perfect place to finish a hard day of travel and tasting wines, while admiring the moon’s reflection in the river somewhere below me. With dawn came the discovery that my small balcony was nothing more than a large slab of sandstone built into the walls of the tower a few hundred years ago. A small wrought iron railing was all that kept me from falling straight down the 200 metres, down the tower of the fortress and a rock wall that ended only in the tiny village a short distance from the Rhine. My glass and the almost empty decanter of Sherry are probably still on the small table as there was no way I would step onto the balcony that morning. Centuries before the Romans arrived along the Rhine and introduced the Riesling vines, local farmers had been cultivating the wild grapes that flourished along the river. How the wines tasted is best left to uncertainty, but it is certain that the Riesling grown along the Rhine, from the upper reaches of Switzerland, through Germany to almost the Dutch border, is the finest anywhere. Vineyards have changed; they are now larger and much easier to work, although still tiny by international standards. From time to time as we travel north by car or by boat, we can still see minuscule rows of grapes that are hewn into the rocks. Perhaps nothing has changed here and the two or three terraced rows of grapes are still grown in the same spot as the ones planted by the Romans. Techniques too have changed over the years, as have palates and trends. Riesling was not always king in our homes and restaurants, but undoubtedly the grape was always royalty, even if in waiting. A decade ago as the world was awash in a sea of wine, the wineries of Germany also suffered tremendously. Some wine was dumped and more was made into spirits. Chardonnay had become the fashion in North America and that was good for Germany, a country that produced mostly Riesling. The style changed from the sweet watery wines of the seventies and eighties, mostly the Liebfraumilch-style wines, to the more dry, very elegant and clean Riesling wines that come today in so many different categories. King Riesling was a wine in waiting. Today we see a Riesling renaissance worldwide, led of course by the noble wines that grow along the River Rhine. In Canada we still drink a lot of Chardonnay, too much for my tastes. We discovered new white wines in the Pinot Grigio, the Pinot Blanc and a few others, but much of the world is hailing the Riesling as the coming king. After all, we drink most of our wines with meals and there is little debate that any good Riesling, with its delicate balance of acidity and fruit, is the best wine to match with food, be it from Canada, Germany or elsewhere. Further down the Rhine, in the vineyard of Schloss Johannisberg, absolutely nothing has changed. Sure, there is now a sandstone monument depicting the rider and his horse, and there are the old stone markers that spot the fiftieth parallel, but the Riesling that comes from the vineyard is still the best known and probably one of the best tasting white wines from anywhere in the world. GL	"numerous medieval castles appear in the most unlikely places on both sides of the Rhine"