by Andrew Morrison |  I’ve just arrived back from a weekend up at Silver Star Mountain for the Okanagan Summer Wine Festival. One of the organisers of the festival, Blair Baldwin, picked me up at the Kelowna airport and gave me a lift and the lowdown on the way up. Really great guy.

On the way through Vernon I noticed that one of the main arteries divided the Okanagan Springs Brewery from the building housing the maker of Taboo absinthe, Okanagan Spirits. I suspected the space between held some sort of divine portal to a Vortex of Permanent Inebriation, and was glad Blair drove through at speed. There were no pedestrians around. All presumably disintegrated.

Installed and post-properly hot-tubbed at the Snowbird Lodge, I went for a walk around the little gingerbread village and along a few trails to get what I could of my bearings. After an hour or two of wandering through alpine meadows smelling of bees, the wind changed direction and the first whiff of the distant forest fires hit the nose.

There were signs everywhere warning that smoking was a no no during the high alert for forest fires, as well as instructions explaining what to do in case a blaze should start on the mountain. If I remember correctly, when the siren sounds one waits ten minutes for two short siren blasts. Or maybe its when the siren sounds twice for two minutes one waits for ten more. Something like that. Either way, it was a perfect time to start tasting.

Like the even more remote  Tofino Food & Wine Festival, the OSWF runs for a weekend and is made up of a mix of indoor and outdoor tastings and seminars in the day. Wine-themed dinners keep it up in the evenings.

With the mountain and its current, gorgeous summer dressings within spitting distance and legions of burly mountain bikers decked out in full body armour wandering around like gnarly sentries, it also shows something of the same wild feel. You’d feel like a bit of a jackass if you wore a suit and tie.

After an entertaining seminar pairing several red and white varietals with a range of Cadbury chocolates (Milk, Fruit & Nut, Burnt Almond, Dark), I went for a run/hike to counter the ridiculously strong high that had predictably ensued, listening to up-tempo cinematic tracks from Battle of Britain on my iPod, convinced that – should a bear sneak up on me – I could terrify it with a quick cocoa-fueled Stuka siren imitation.

Several hours later I sat down to a surprisingly fine dinner with Quinta Ferreira winemaker Mike Ferreira and Lindsay White of Tinhorn Creek at Silver Grill. Two very charming strangers. By the end of the night they’d been stripped of all their wine by the assembled group of 40, and there was hardly a pout. I don’t think a drop of their juice was spared.

Dinner was very good. For those of you who are into that sort of thing: deliciously spiced tuna ceviche; casually composed local strawberry and baby spinach salad with goat’s cheese and champagne vinaigrette; a massive Alberta beef tenderloin capped with a fat slab of Roquefort butter next to a tiny pâte feuilletée filled with wild mushrooms; and chocolate pot du creme flavoured with espresso.

Back in my hotel, exhausted, I was reminded of where I was again by the evocative smell of distant forest fires. I’d left the windows open when I’d gone down to dinner, and the smoky zephyrs had permeated everything in my absence. It was a very natural smell, one readily recognisable for those raised in BC. It was the smell of a fire that wasn’t supposed to be there. It made me sleepy. And I was gone.

The next morning was a welcome rush. It began with a coffee and wine tasting for breakfast. Later came another chocolate and wine tasting for lunch, this time with varying % of dark Poulain chocolate paired with robust reds and dessert wines. Both were entertaining shocks to the system.

Another run about the mountain followed, this time at double speed, listening to  and on the double extra especially vigilant alert for any disagreeable bears lighting forest fires. You can never be too careful.

It was then time for the main event, a progressive tasting featuring dozens of Okanagan wineries poured from tables set clear through the village throughfare. A massive crowd appeared as if from nowhere. All went well.

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Unlike most other wine festivals I’ve attended, this one was remarkably informal and relaxed. There wasn’t a massive media “usual suspects” contingent or crowds of food and beverage industry people swapping business cards and getting loaded. I don’t think I saw a single suit worn, nor anyone exchange a business card. The crowd was all ages, with a healthy contingent of 25-40 year olds. There were a surprising number of Americans up for a weekend lark, but the majority appeared to be locals from Vernon and Kelowna. A walk through the car park also showed many Alberta plates. In other words, it wasn’t a “scene” in the least. It was a celebration of Okanagan wine, pure and simple.

Very refreshing.

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