Ancient Cellars & Urban Markets

Suddenly, I found myself battling balance on an old railroad track. My arms were outstretched in hopes of wooing gravity so it would not pull me to the ground. How did I get here? Footing met failure, and I went down. But instead of hitting the dusty trail beside me, I was swallowed by a deep hole. Am I having an acid flashback? When I emerged from this much deeper fall, I found my feet buried in soil that lurked in a lost time. Finally, I found what I was looking for.

A blast to the past. Men gathered in front of DeTurk Winery in the late 19th century. | photo: The Press Democrat

There were shouts exploding from every direction. Various men bustled about, toiling with barrels of wine, pushing them into looming cellars. The Santa Rosa I knew had disappeared and was replaced by barren, rolling hills; fresh soil emanating off their surface and into my nostrils. This was the winery I had been in search of—Bennett Valley's first.

DeTurk Winery was built by Isaac DeTurk in the 1860s. Its sheer greatness accommodated the large amounts of fruit production that the fertile hills provided. Within a decade of opening the winery, DeTurk was crushing anywhere from 300 to 350 tons of grapes every season. The crisp smell of Zinfandel and Mission varietals spliced with the fresh soil and danced with my nose, but was brutally interrupted by a loud steam whistle. A freight train thundered nearby, and in its wake, I noticed a glistening barn. Upon investigation, I noticed that inside lurked a small throng of thoroughbred racehorses. Then time halted and distorted.

The streets of Santa Rosa swirled back around me, and the loud horse stable was replaced by the DeTurk Round Barn, a historical building for the public's enjoyment. I turned around and was surrounded by merchant stands of all sorts. It was a gathering of farmers and vendors from all over Sonoma County, A.K.A. the West End Farmer's Market.

The first stand that caught my eye was a small coffeehouse. However, as I followed the smell of fresh brew, I was distracted by a frosty glass jug of watermelon mint water. It was a mere dollar, and delicious to top it off. As I enjoyed my refreshment, I stood in a trance, just taking it all in.

There were stands and stands of organic produce that had been grown locally. There were chiropractic therapy booths, cheese-tasting stands, and wine-tasting tents. Not far off, I could sense BBQ that smelled like heaven on a bone being devoured in a nearby seating area. Oh, how I wished that I could have partaken in such activities, but I was broke. This is no place for empty pockets AND a vacant stomach. Not a good mix, I thought to myself. So, I took off.