Beechworth, a small town three-and-a-half hours northeast of Melbourne in the state of Victoria, is a land of flaxen hills amid granitic outcrops set in relief against the ascendency of the Australian Alps, diminutively referred to as the “Snowy Mountains” in local parlance. It is a beautiful town by virtue of its natural attributes, vineyards and stately architecture, the latter bequeathed by the discovery of gold at Spring Creek in 1852 and the wealth that came with it, shaping the local demography much like the Gold Rush of California. Optimistic prospectors descended on the town and its environs from the United States, China, England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales, bringing the population above 20,000 inhabitants by 1857. Today, though, many visitors come for the wine.
I made my umpteenth visit to the region in late January, tasting the best expressions from Beechworth and neighboring King Valley, a similarly sub-alpine region marked by the kinship of a continental climate, forceful winds and the inherent diurnal shifts of temperature that help to retain natural acidity in the grapes.
Unlike Beechworth’s more dramatic vineyards, however, this is a bucolic vineyard scape that runs contiguous to the King River, a sinuous flow from its upper reaches in the Alpine National Park, due north of the small city of Wangaratta, to a broader river basin in the north around Milawa and Moyhu, before growing in trajectory amid steeper alpine slopes in the south at over 800 meters.