I "Almost" Opened a Winery

Glad I didn't; happy I explored

Emerging vine in Paso Robles

Ten years ago, I entertained buying a vineyard. It would have been a terrible decision. I’m lucky. I have a strong group of supportive confidants who helped me explore and ultimately make the correct decision, not to buy.

My wife and I often joke about one of the best sayings I heard in the wine biz. “How do you make a small fortune in wine….Start with a large one!”

Working in wine is a labor of love. Expecting to work hard and to earn little is likely the best mindset. Plus, it’s tough and likely getting tougher. Wine’s medicinal role has been pierced and drinking is on the decline. With consumption rates down, you’ve really gotta love it to do it.

One of the biggest reasons it’s so tough is because it’s an agricultural product. You are at the whims of the weather. Rain comes when it comes. Disease attacks when you are ready for a long weekend. You must be prepared to work when Mother Nature tells you.

In 2013 I entertained buying a vineyard in Kentucky. I was feeling entrepreneurial. I’d just returned from a sabbatical exploring wine. I was inspired from conversations with Oregon winemakers. Many of them leapt from careers in other industries to start wineries. They were succeeding. “Why can’t I?” I thought.

Here’s why…tasks, timing, and logistics. Thanks to my network, sage counsel, and some exploration, I made the right decision: to stick with my day job. Here’s how it played out.

Check Out This Vineyard For Sale!

I love my mom. She is a career adventurer with a joie de vivre and affinity for entrepreneurship. We routinely “ideate” on a variety of topics during morning commutes.

In the early 2010’s, she knew I was exploring the wine business. She wanted to help. I’m pretty sure she had the wine jobs url bookmarked just like me. Life as a Finance Director with Procter & Gamble was perfectly fine, but I thirsted to do something more aligned with my interests.

One day she told me about a vineyard for sale near Lexington, Kentucky. She’d seen it on some random commercial real estate site. It was “only $500k,” which I didn’t have lying around but still seemed “affordable.” My ears perked up. I suddenly started dreaming of running a winery.

I tapped into my expertise in business case analysis and pro-forma building, honed over a decade as a finance leader. I built a rudimentary, non-investment grade P&L as a sense check. The numbers didn’t seem crazy. I was excited about the romantic possibilities of becoming a vintner and producing world class wine. So I took the next step.

Get a Look Under The Hood

Filled with excitement, I arranged a visit with the broker. I made a critical decision, aided by a suggestion from my best friend. I brought him and a friend of his to look at the property. We thought it would be good to have a collective set of eyes on the place.

At first glance, the property looked good, manageable. It was open with great airflow, which would minimize disease pressure. It was close to I-75, which would make driving access from Cincinnati easier. The barn looked great and could definitely house a “garage-like” production operation. The vines looked serviceable assuming constant TLC. Yet, problems were starting to pierce the aura of excitement.

“Problems” Arise

The vineyard was cute. It could be a good little operation. After reflection, there were three strikes which made me realize I would not be building a detailed business plan and seeking a loan.

Most of the vines looked pretty good. Yet, a number of them looked rotten, almost as if they had black rot. I’m not an expert vintner, but I do have a horticulture degree. As a golf course superintendent, I had seen and treated my fair share of fungal pathogens. I immediately was transported back to long, restless days of spraying fungicides and being beholden to the weather. I didn’t want to go back. Strike one.

Next, my dad asked if the timing was best. My dad suggested the timing might not be “right” for one good reason: I was going through a divorce with my ex-wife. It was pretty amicable and definitely the best thing to do. Yet, I was in the midst of one of life’s biggest changes.

I can’t remember the root of my Dad’s concern. He’s generally risk averse, perfect in this scenario. He likely was concerned about having too much going on in addition to the risk of a side hustle that would require a pretty size-able investment. Strike two.

I was still feeling good about the possibility of becoming Paul Fisher, vintner extraordinaire. I was daunted by the idea of learning to make wine, I’d taken a class. I wasn’t daunted by the financial risk per se. Lexington, Kentucky is home to some pretty great wineries. But, after revisiting my P&L and reflecting further, strike three emerged.

The distance was too great! Cincinnati is about 90 minutes from Lexington. My mind started racing. To truly commit to this, I’d have to be at the vineyard at least every few days. I’d need to be on site after work to work. On weekends, I’d need to prune, monitor, and more. I’d need someone else in the venture to do this. Reality set in. I would not be buying the winery.

Found a Smaller Test

Maybe it’s more accurate to say that I dreamed of buying a winery. I still do. I know it would be hard work. I also know it might not be the biggest commercial success. I still dream of it because it combines my loves of wine, nature, and business. Plus, exploring lead me to a smaller test.

A few months after walking away from the winery, I volunteered at a vineyard much closer to my house in Cincinnati. I spent the summer tending vines. I’d prune, train, and harvest grapes after work and on weekends. I didn’t get paid.

Time in the vineyard was relaxing. I’d put in my head phones and listen to music while walking the lines. I’d snip shot berries and clusters. I’d train growth on the trellis. My parents even joined me one Saturday and found it to be enjoyable.

Also, I performed a real life experiment. I tested whether I’d even like viticulture. The answer was maybe. But doing this was far smarter than just leaping into vineyard ownership.

A Polite Decline

At the end of the summer, I politely told the vineyard owner I was not interested in taking over operations of his vineyard. He was in his 70’s. He’d planted about four acres of vines on his property about seven years earlier. At that time, he’d thought planting some vines, caring for them, and selling the grapes would be a good retirement investment. It was more work than he’d planned.

Now, he was considering ripping out the vines, unless he could find someone to tend them. He had asked me if I was interested. I “was”, just not under those terms. I saw how much work it was and heard him discuss how difficult it was to find a buyer for the grapes.

The Lessons

I learned a few important things from this foray into wine. First, be open to opportunities and explore. You can always say no. But, half the fun is in evaluating new things.

Second, the right opportunities take a solid triumvirate: team, timing, and tenacity. You will not find perfection. But, interest alone and a decent idea on paper do not suffice. We all must have the right team of confidants, helpers, seers, whatever, to help. Plus, timing must be right. Sometimes the stars just ain’t aligned. Last, good things take hard work, tenacity. If it will not be easy to put in the work, think long and hard about the opportunity.

Third, find a great way to test your idea. This means volunteering or shadowing. Whether it’s an entrepreneurial adventure or a new gig at your company, take time to understand the work before committing, assuming you have the choice.

Take time to explore. You don’t have to buy. You will not regret having done a little window shopping. You will regret never looking.

Thanks for reading!

Paul G. Fisher