Champagne would have been appropriate as we bombed towards Jenner beach in the Russian River Valley blasting Chromeo on repeat in our rented white Chrysler Sebring convertible. It's not a super fancy car - but a novelty against the citicarshare scions or Ford Focus which are more reasonable weekend warrior road trippers.

Once in Russian River Valley we stayed in a charming little camp ground - the majority of which was filled with mobile homes (the majority of which didn't look so mobile anymore). Trying not to disturb this unique community was a priority so we stuck to wine as we sat around the campfire. First off the block was a Keenan Merlot - it was delicious - dry, good tanin, powerful. I will repeat that nearly any Merlot from the Spring Mountain District will fool you into believing that it is a Cab - and I'll never stop going back there for these wines. If you get a chance - call ahead, and visit this small not to be underestimated sub-region of the Napa Valley.

After this wine we moved on to an historically crowd pleasing bottle. 2007 Maritma Sangiovese "The 4 Old Guys". Usually this wine blows us away at it's price point of 8 dollars, however this most recent vintage - the 2007 - left us wondering if the old dudes got distracted. The wine had a disticnt enough flavor - but it was week, almost watery - perhaps it was harsh to stand it up against a spring mountain merlot.

We finnished up with this guy - the 2004 sere from Spain - we think it's a tempranillo - it's a great value wine I picked up while drooling my way through wholefoods last week.

The next morning we lit out of Jenner beach, where the Russian River meets the Pacific and lifeguards actively stop people from going into the water because of the hardcore undertow - apparently it will mess you up. We spent just enough time there to get sunburns and sand in our ears and pockets before we realized the time and got hungry.

On the way home to SF there was only one place we really wanted to investigate (as this was not a vino-centric trip). We left the valley as we had entered, with Chromeo (a disfunctional attempt at 80's funk you shouldn't die without hearing) blasting out the drop top chrysler winding into the hallowed grounds of Korbel. We all owe them something - they are our first champagne - our mimosa champagne - our pour this all over myself and get sticky champagne. And yet, only Gabe went into the tasting room to try it - and it was, well, Korbel.

What was excellent was their deli - the sun and sea take a lot out of a body and for 13 bucks I had a killer tri tip steak sandwich on a soft french roll with carmelized onions and gorganzola, an applewood smoked sausage pasta and a fruit covered cheesecake thing. Korbels deli brought me back to earth - just long enough to hobble over to our topless rocket and blast off back towards the San Franciscan mothership - it was a good weekend.