Racking the Spring Mead

Week six started with a problem: the airlock went quiet. I expected a slow bubbling rhythm — the gentle two-second blip I had gotten used to. Instead, dead silence. The kind of silence that makes you peek under the towel to make sure the thing is still alive.

It was alive. Of course it was alive. Mead ferments slowly at the best of times, and a wildflower honey ferment is even slower. The bubbles stop long before the yeast is done. The trick is trusting the gravity reading, not the airlock.

The racking itself is the easiest part. Siphon the mead off the sediment at the bottom of the carboy, into a clean secondary vessel. Leave the lees behind. Do not splash, do not rush, and do not introduce oxygen. The hydrometer should read about 1.012 now, down from an original gravity of 1.110 — that is around 13% ABV, which is exactly where I want it for a still, semi-sweet sipper.

I taste a tiny sip from the thief. Honey on the front, a faint green-apple note in the middle, and a clean, dry finish. No off flavors. No stuck sweetness, no bandaid, no burned sugar. The next move is six weeks of bulk aging in a dark corner, then bottling. Patience, in a one-gallon jug, is more reliable than any gadget I have ever bought.