Years ago, I had a friend who was a member of a small wine tasting society who liked to visit wine country regions around California about the middle of October in a multi-passenger van.

Sure, they knew it was harvest time. But they wanted me to set up appointments at wineries that would take them behind the scenes during harvest. When this whole thing started, I advised them I wouldn’t be much help since this is about the worst time of year to visit wineries.

They always persisted, arguing that they would pay well to get a good behind-the-scenes visit. And with 12 members, they argued, lunches with wine makers could be lucrative for the wineries.

And I always reminded them that wine makers do not eat lunch during harvest, and usually no dinners, either.

Whenever the request came in, I cheated a bit: I made sure, based on the dates of their visit, that the only wineries I sent them to met the following criteria:

• All the grapes a winery was going to pick would be completely harvested by the time my friends arrived.

• I made sure the wineries knew that should any unexpected work intervene to drop my friends like a hot rock and not bother with the intruders.

• I arranged for my friends to see only one or two wineries a day, to expect to do no tasting, and to take a break about  4 p.m. to head for a certain, centrally located pub.

Because as the old saying goes, it takes a whole lot of beer to make great wine!

Harvest time is nutty time in wine country. So many things are happening that almost no one is sane. Wine makers who buy fruit from various growers (which means almost everyone) have to be on top of ripeness levels from vineyard to vineyard and within vineyards. That means keeping track of many grape varieties, many growers, and many potential problems.

If they’re harvesting their own fruit, they have to worry about how many pickers they will have; can they get them early enough in the day? (Most wine makers prefer to pick before the sun rises.)

Then there is the equipment. Do they have enough picking bins? Trucks? Forklifts? What’s the condition of the crusher? The press? Are all the tanks clean and ready to be used? (Or are a few still filled with last year’s wine and the bottling line has broken?)

What about the cellar workers? Are there enough of them? Perhaps, but are all of them skilled enough to use all of the equipment you have. What if there is only one forklift driver and he gets ill?

What about unforeseen disasters, such as a pump simply dying the moment processing begins?

Has enough sulfur been ordered? Acid? Are the hoses and fittings in good shape?

It’s no wonder wine makers get almost no sleep during this time. It’s no wonder the vast majority of males during this period do not shave; showers are truly optional; meals are seen as luxuries.

Sure, it’s fun to see literally tons of crimson berries toppling from a giant truck into a stainless bin, only to be slowly moved by a giant stainless screw through the de-stemmer. The thing makes the noise of a helicopter.

But there are bee stings, sticky clothes, dust, dirt, and sunburn.

And the time factor. White wine grapes are harvested in the cool morning air so they’ll be cool when crushed, but if there are delays (and there are always delays), the grapes start to warm up. And it’s a no-no to crush warm grapes.

But what’s a wine maker to do when the equipment balks, or the labor force runs into trouble, or (God forbid) there’s a power outage?

Is this any time to have a bunch of geeky wine society people visiting?

One recent year, I learned something during the wine society’s trek to Sonoma County. I had scheduled them for a winery that was expected to be all done harvesting, but a cooler-than-expected season had the winery in full Pinot Noir harvest when the members arrived, decked out in pastels and white shoes.

The wine maker apologized, said he thought the worst would have been over, but it was just starting and if they cared to stay around, he could use them. They all agreed, including the primly decorated ladies.

When the day had ended, all had hauled bins, hoses, and pitchforks; they had sorted berries, swept, hosed, and rolled barrels.

And at the end of the day, their duds needing a thrift shop rather than a washing machine, they drank a fair bit of beer.

“It was the best wine trip we ever took,” said the leader of the society.

And the last.

No wine of the week this week.

Dan Berger lives in Sonoma County, where he publishes Vintage Experiences, a weekly newsletter on wine and food topics. Write to him at danberger@rocketmail.com.