When we stopped to set up camp, my back was already aching from carrying the wine and supplies. Mr. Vino felt no ill effects from our long hike up Diamond Mountain – and his backpack was even heavier than mine.

Known for its sunny slopes and volcanic soils, Diamond Mountain is part of the Mayacamas range that separates the spectacular Sonoma Valley and the regal Napa Valley. Throughout our hike, we saw glorious vineyards of cabernet sauvignon, chardonnay and merlot.

As I wiped my brow and commented on the beauty around us, Mr. Vino took a stick and drew a heart in the red soil. At the center of the heart, he drew a thin line.

“We are here,” he said, pointing to the line, “in the heart of great American wine. And like our hearts, it has two chambers: Napa and Sonoma. We on Diamond Mountain are in the middle – the heart line. Wine is a living thing.”

As we readied our camp, Mr. Vino gathered wood for the fire. I broke out the wine, dried meats, cheese and bread for our meal. There was more than an hour of blue sunlight left on this warm, cloudless spring day.

I opened a bottle of 2002 Von Strasser’s chardonnay from their Rainin Vineyard – all Diamond Mountain fruit. I poured each of us a glass. The aromatics were beautiful and complex, with hints of hazelnut and toffee. The mouth feel was large and sensual, like a big cabernet but with a totally different flavor profile: pineapple and Brazilian bananas with other tropical notes.

Mr. Vino’s pale blue eyes gleamed, and he gave a large grin with his grand-piano white teeth. “Beautiful,” he said in a soft voice. “I love to come to the mountain and drink the wines that are given birth to right here under our feet.”

With that, he scooped up a chunk of soil with his hand. “This is the mother – the volcanic soil. We are in the dark shadows of an ancient volcano.”

With his nimble fingers, he spread around the soil in his palm. “We often hear about the age of vines, like zinfandel vines that are close to a hundred years old,” he said. “And winemakers love to boast about how ancient their vines are. But wine is a billion-year process because the soil affects so much of the wine’s flavor.”

He then asked me to pull out a red wine. I pulled out another Von Strasser wine – the 2001 Reserve, which is a Bordeaux blend of petit verdot, cabernet sauvignon and merlot. The nose was handsome, comprised of cassis, blueberry, black licorice stick and just-rolled Cuban cigar. The palate was thick, almost like blackberry jam, and the wine was overwhelmingly huge, a Godzilla wine, yet comely, with prima ballerina grace and classic symmetry.

I was very happy with the wine. “Rudy von Strasser is a very gifted winemaker,” I said.

Mr. Vino nodded his head in approval. “Yes, Rudy told me that the wines are so intense and dramatic because cabernet grapes have to work hard to survive in this improvised soil. And, as you know, that creates great wine.”

As it started to get dark, we talked about other great wines made in the Diamond Mountain district, including Diamond Creek, Diamond Terrace, Reverie and Ramey.

“They all benefit from this volcanic soil,” my short friend said as he finished another glass of Reserve.

Our campfire climbed toward the bleached-white full moon. My attention turned to other matters. “Wine is so ancient,” I said. “Do you ever think about how it was in the beginning, when wine was first made?”

“Yes, of course,” Mr. Vino said as he poured me another glass. “Wine has been with us since Neolithic times – 5400 BC, if not earlier. Many historians believe wine was discovered by accident; that the grape skins were accidentally crushed and the native grape yeast began to react to the grape sugars, starting fermentation, eventually creating wine.

“I think the opposite; that man created wine much in the same way man made bread – through experimentation,” he continued. “I believe they crushed grapes to see what would happen. Mankind has always tried to improve its lot in life. And wine has always been a source of comfort and joy, both for the ancients and for us today.”

We drank a bit more, then stared into the limitless, starry black night and fell into dreams.