Harvest 2026 Reflections
The Lost Vintage.
As the Hunting Moon rises over the farm, the 2026 harvest is behind us. The grapes have been picked, the sheep have settled back into the vineyard for winter, and everything this difficult season gave us is now in the cellar with my sister Lisa.
On April 21, a historic spring frost swept across our vineyards at Burnt Hill Farm and Old Westminster Winery. After weeks of unusually warm weather, the vines had awakened early, their tender green shoots carrying the promise of another vintage. Then, just before sunrise, temperatures fell into the twenties and stayed there for hours. By mid morning, nearly every primary bud was gone.
In sixteen years of farming, I'd never witnessed anything so destructive. We estimated the loss at upwards of 100 tons of grapes, roughly 72,000 bottles of wine that would never exist. An entire season's potential, gone in a single night. I called it The Lost Vintage. And for a while, that's exactly what we thought it would be.
But grapevines are remarkably resilient. In the weeks that followed, secondary buds began pushing new growth. The vineyards slowly turned green again. Some varieties showed little promise of fruit, while others surprised us. Regent, in particular, demonstrated the value of fruitful secondary buds in a season like this.
Our team kept farming. Managing irregular canopies, working the soil, and caring for vines that might give us little or nothing in return. The work doesn't stop when the crop is lost. Those efforts are essential to the health and productivity of the vineyard in years to come.
By late August, we were harvesting. Cool mornings, soft light across the hills, and small clusters of beautiful fruit. Gamay, Pinot Noir, Cabernet Franc, Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, Petit Verdot, and Regent all found their way into Lisa's cellar. Ultimately, we harvested roughly 20% of what we brought in last year. A small fraction of a normal vintage, but a harvest nonetheless.
Every growing season leaves its fingerprints on the fruit. The weather, the soil, our farming decisions, and the things beyond our control all become part of the wine. Lisa says the young wines have a beautiful energy. Her work now is to understand their character and bring out the best in them, rather than trying to make them resemble another vintage. That's the art of wine growing.
Beyond the cellar, this season has brought greater clarity to how we want to farm. For generations, the wine world has defined greatness largely through famous European grape varieties. We love those grapes, and we've built much of our work around them. But great wine must also reflect a responsibility to the place it's grown. We're exploring new genetics that combine wine quality with cold hardiness, frost resilience, and disease resistance. Regent, Cabernet Volos, Merlot Kanthus, Floreal, and Voltis represent possibilities for a more adaptive, environmentally responsible future.
On one particularly steep hillside, the frost devastated a block of Champagne-clone Chardonnay. We removed the vines and trellis, prepared the soil, and planted buckwheat in their place. What had been a vineyard became a flowering field, feeding pollinators, protecting the soil, and giving the land a season to recover. Eventually, a new vineyard will take its place, planted with a clearer understanding of what belongs there.
These are long decisions. What we plant today may still be growing when our children inherit the farm. We want to hand them a place that's more resilient, more beautiful, and better adapted to its environment than the one we inherited.
Farming requires optimism, but also the humility to recognize that nature doesn't always cooperate. We can't change what happened in April, and the financial consequences are significant. But we can respond thoughtfully, adapt where necessary, and keep building something worthwhile.
I'm grateful for our vineyard team, who worked just as hard through a season that offered so little. For Lisa, who now has the delicate task of turning this small harvest into beautiful wines. And for our community, whose support makes it possible to keep farming through years like this.
Not the vintage we hoped for. Not the vintage we would have chosen. But perhaps the one that taught us the most.
-Drew Baker, farmer & founding partner
A look back at the 2026 harvest. A story of resilience, gratitude, and making the most of what nature gives us.