Imagine arriving at a vineyard and discovering that the grapes are somewhere above your head. Not just above your head, actually. Somewhere up a tree.

In Meskheti, southern Georgia, this is a real possibility. Old grapevines climb fruit trees, sometimes reaching astonishing heights. Elsewhere, narrow stone terraces follow the mountainsides like giant staircases.

Georgia's National Wine Agency records vines growing between 900 and 1,700 metres above sea level, although that upper figure doesn't establish the altitude of today's commercial vineyards.

At these heights, grapes face a rather inconvenient problem: they need sunshine to ripen, but the mountains aren't always willing to provide enough warmth.

Cooler temperatures slow ripening and can help preserve acidity. That's potentially excellent news for a wine's freshness. Less excellent if autumn arrives before the grapes have developed enough sugar and flavour.

High altitude offers opportunities, along with a fairly unforgiving deadline.

WHEN NOVEMBER BECOMES HARVEST SEASON

Giorgi Natenadze, who collects grapes from old vines in Meskheti's mountain forests and abandoned villages, sometimes harvests well into November.

According to his winery's account, some berries may freeze naturally before picking.

Late harvesting can increase concentration, particularly if grapes lose water while hanging on the vine. Sugar and acidity may become more concentrated, although the final balance depends on ripeness, berry condition and the weather.

Freezing is more complicated. If grapes are pressed while frozen, some water can remain behind as ice, producing more concentrated juice. But grapes that freeze and later thaw don't necessarily produce the same result.

And a little mountain frost doesn't automatically make ice wine.

These late harvests describe Natenadze's particular practice, not a rule for every Meskhetian grower. The finished wine may be dry or sweet, lighter or more powerful, depending on the fruit and fermentation.

So much for a leisurely September vintage.

THE SUNNY SIDE WINS

Meskheti has a wonderful historical detail. Local growers distinguished between the sunnier slopes of the Mtkvari valley, called Zvare, and the shaded side, Chrdilis Mkhare.

According to research documented by the Georgian Wine Association, the sunnier slopes encouraged earlier growth and greater sugar accumulation. The shaded vineyards had a harder time reaching the same ripeness.

Even at identical elevations, two vineyards could produce noticeably different grapes.

More warmth generally offers more opportunity to accumulate sugar, potentially leading to higher alcohol. Cooler conditions can preserve acidity but also increase the risk of underripe flavours.

It's a useful reminder that knowing a vineyard sits at 1,200 metres isn't enough. The direction it faces can change the whole equation.

WHAT'S UNDER THE VINES?

The mountains present another complication: the ground isn't uniform.

Natenadze describes basaltic rock and limestone in the mountain areas where he gathers grapes. These observations don't establish the geology of every vineyard in Meskheti, but they help explain some of the growing challenges.

The differences matter because water doesn't behave the same way in every soil.

Shallow, stony ground may drain quickly and hold relatively little moisture. Deeper soils with more clay or organic matter can store more water for roots, although drainage depends on soil structure and the underlying rock.

Too little water can slow vine growth and restrict ripening. Too much may encourage excessive foliage that shades the grapes.

Historic stone terraces helped growers retain cultivated soil and reduce erosion, making it possible to farm difficult slopes.

And no, basalt doesn't automatically make a wine taste smoky. Geology influences the conditions in which grapes grow; it doesn't transfer the flavour of rocks into a bottle.

AND WHY ARE THE GRAPES IN TREES?

Long before modern vineyard trellises, growers in Meskheti trained vines into trees, often apricot trees.

Some surviving vines now climb high through branches or spread across abandoned landscapes. Natenadze has spent years finding and documenting them.

Growing this way changes how the vine receives sunlight and air. Clusters may be shaded by surrounding leaves, while exposed fruit can receive better ventilation. Pruning and harvesting become considerably more difficult.

None of this guarantees better grapes.

The importance of these old vines lies partly in their survival and the rare local varieties they preserve. They allow winemakers to explore fruit from vines grown under conditions very different from those of a modern vineyard.

Meanwhile, restored terraces are bringing cultivated vines back to the mountainsides.

TWO WINES WORTH LOOKING FOR

Meskheti doesn't have one recognisable wine style. Two bottles offer a useful introduction.

NATENADZE'S WINE CELLAR — MESKHURI RED

On his official wine page, Natenadze lists Meskhuri Red as a field blend of Meskhuri Shavi, Kharistvala and Tskhenisdzudzu, gathered from old vines and fermented together. Earlier bottlings have been described with different varieties, so the composition shouldn't be assumed identical across vintages.

The wine is made in qvevri, traditional Georgian clay vessels, with extended contact between the juice, skins and other grape solids.

The producer describes tart cherries, wild strawberries, violets and dried herbs, with refreshing acidity and fine tannins.

That freshness is worth noticing in a wine from a cool mountain region. But the aromas also reflect the grape varieties, while extended skin contact can influence the tannins and texture.

VARDZIA TERRACES — MESKHURI SPECIAL RED

A different approach comes from Vardzia Terraces, where historic stone-walled vineyards have been restored near Khizabavra.

Its Meskhuri Special Red is listed by Georgian retailer Wine Delivery as a blend of Danakharuli and Kapnis Shavi, with fresh berry aromas, lively acidity and a clean finish.

The wine's digital product label confirms that it is a dry red made in a stainless-steel tank, with 13.5% alcohol.

Steel and qvevri offer different winemaking environments, although the vessel alone doesn't tell us how long the grapes remained in contact with their skins.

The comparison is interesting: old-vine fruit and extended qvevri fermentation on one side; restored terraces, different grape varieties and stainless-steel production on the other.

Neither wine can be explained by altitude alone.

WHAT TO NOTICE IN THE GLASS

Start with the acidity. Does the wine make your mouth water? Does that freshness balance ripe fruit, or does the fruit seem lean and tart?

Then consider the tannins. Are they light and fine, or do they grip your gums? Extended skin contact can affect the answer as much as the vineyard.

Finally, notice the fruit itself: fresh cherries and berries, or something darker, riper and more concentrated?

Those observations won't tell you the exact altitude of the vineyard. They may, however, give you clues about ripeness and how the wine was made.

A sunny slope, an extra few weeks on the vine or a different fermentation method can produce a very different result.

And the most interesting evidence is in the glass: the balance between the fruit's ripeness, the wine's freshness and the texture left behind after you swallow.