The Steamboat Pilot & Today

Toward the end of April, I found myself sitting on the patio of a four-star resort outside of Palm Springs, Calif., eating breakfast from a needlessly expensive buffet line with a friend from college.

Both dressed in old T-shirts marked with holes and ratty shorts streaked with acrylic paint, I would like to think we stood out pretty badly as we drank freshly squeezed orange juice and pondered which berries to put in our brunch parfaits.

We pulled this off — being tactful in a resort that our traveling buddies who we didn’t really know, had chosen, a resort we couldn’t afford but had been offered reservations on an insane, closeout discount — for about 5 minutes.

Then, my friend dropped a fork that was intended for fruit, salad, meat or some other part of a meal with several courses, and said, “I am so out of my element,” before busting up in laughter that eventually caused us to have to leave the patio.

Walking into The Wine Festival at Steamboat last weekend, I was expecting to relive this experience, or at least to rehash the feeling of being so completely out of my comfort zone I had no idea how to behave rationally.

That worry turned out to be completely unfounded. Granted, I sacrificed the paint-covered work clothes for something a little more presentable. But I am relatively sure that, at least for Friday’s Stroll of Steamboat — where most everyone was dressed casually in shorts and non-collared shirts — being presentable qualified me as being overdressed. I was still out of my element, but not as obviously so.

Being that I only caught the last hour or so of the downtown stroll and Saturday’s Toast of Steamboat Grand Tasting, it’s hard to judge the overall festival atmosphere. I do know that I had meant to do more strolling Friday, that I felt a little crowded at Torian Plum Plaza on Saturday, and that I drank some great wines — and a good dose of disappointing ones — at both.

Drinking wine is something I’ve always liked. And I do mean actually drinking and tasting it, and occasionally trying things that do not come packed inside a bladder packed inside a box.

Drinking wine with lots of people who have paid to come to a festival to do that, however, is beyond me. I’m guessing it’ll be years before that becomes something I’d be likely to do again, or at least anytime soon.

— Margaret Hair, 4 Points