The Wandering Path & the Jules Chauvet Legacy

The story of Claudia and Louis-Damien Bouchacourt is not merely a winemaking story; it is a love story, a travelogue, and a philosophical journey that spans continents and decades before settling into the limestone and granite soils of La Chapelle de Guinchay. Louis-Damien's path to becoming a vigneron was circuitous and rich with experience — the kind of formative journey that produces not a technician but a thinker, not a farmer but a steward. He began with a journey to New Zealand, where he worked on an organic farm and discovered that sustainable agriculture could capture his full attention and commitment. The experience ignited something: an understanding that the way we work the land is not merely a means of production but a way of being in the world, a relationship of reciprocity rather than extraction.

From New Zealand, Louis-Damien returned to France and spent four transformative years at Domaine des Vignes du Maynes in the Mâconnais, working alongside Julien Guillot — one of the most respected natural winemakers in Burgundy, a man whose family has been making wine according to biodynamic principles for generations. It was here that Louis-Damien absorbed the deep knowledge of natural viticulture and vinification that would become the foundation of his own practice: the understanding that healthy soil produces healthy vines, that healthy vines produce grapes capable of making wine without intervention, and that the winemaker's role is not to manipulate but to accompany — to create the conditions for nature to express itself with clarity and truth. The years with Guillot were not merely an apprenticeship in technique; they were an education in philosophy, in patience, in the long view that natural wine demands.

But the road was not finished. In 2013, Louis-Damien set out on a four-month bicycle journey through the vineyards of Chile — a wandering, exploratory passage through South American wine country that would change his life forever. On 20 February 2013, in Viña del Mar, he met Claudia Andrea Cirano. She was travelling with her niece, spoke French, and found Louis-Damien secretly attractive from the first moment. He was passing through on his bicycle, and she invited him to stay for a night. That night became the beginning of everything. When Louis-Damien returned home to the Beaujolais, Claudia sought him out — to see where he lived, to understand the world he came from. But fate intervened cruelly: shortly after her arrival, Louis-Damien was struck by a tractor in a serious accident. It looked bad. Claudia stayed. She nursed him, stood by him, and on 9 August 2014 — in the midst of recovery and renewal — they pledged eternal troth to one another. The wandering paths had converged.

The arrival of their son Santiago marked the beginning of a new chapter. A portion of the family domaine was taken over, and Claudia and Louis-Damien began their own project with a clear vision: to make wine and cultivate vines within an ecological story, inspired by the reading of Jules Chauvet — the legendary Beaujolais winemaker who, from this very village of La Chapelle de Guinchay in the 1980s, launched the natural wine movement that would eventually sweep across the world. Chauvet's writings and example taught them that the first step must be organic viticulture, certified and rigorous. From the very beginning, Louis-Damien implemented soil work, and the domaine was certified organic from 2015. The name Les Chemins de Traverse — "The Wandering Paths" or "The Crossroads" — reflects not only their personal journey but their winemaking philosophy: to renew, to adapt, to question, to change. These are the truths of a vigneron, but also their riches.

At Les Chemins de Traverse, the winemaking philosophy is distilled into a single principle: trust the process. Louis-Damien and Claudia believe that if the vineyard is farmed with care — if the soil is alive, the vines are healthy, and the grapes are harvested at the right moment — then the wine will make itself. This is not laziness or mysticism; it is the hard-won wisdom of Jules Chauvet and the generations of natural winemakers who followed him. In the cellar, Louis-Damien grants his wines the time they need to develop, but also allows natural processes to take place so that oenological input becomes unnecessary. There is no temperature control, no selected yeasts, no enzymes, no fining, no filtration, and absolutely no sulfur at any stage — from harvest to bottle, the wines are left to evolve according to their own internal logic, guided only by the material they were born from and the environment they inhabit.

The vinification is simple and ancient. For the red wines, Gamay grapes are hand-harvested and fermented whole-cluster or destemmed depending on the cuvée and the vintage, with gentle extraction through punch-downs or pump-overs. Fermentation occurs spontaneously with indigenous yeasts in concrete tanks or neutral vessels, and the wines are aged with patience — sometimes for years — before bottling. The Chardonnay is pressed and fermented in similar conditions, allowed to develop its own character without the imposition of oak or technology. The pétillant naturel — the Déambulle — is bottled during fermentation to capture the wine's natural effervescence, creating a sparkling wine that is alive, unpredictable, and utterly charming. Every wine is a testament to the belief that nature, when respected, produces results that no laboratory could ever replicate.

"Azimut" — The Chardonnay Compass: The Azimut is Les Chemins de Traverse's white wine — a Chardonnay that takes its name from the navigational bearing, the direction-finding tool that guides travellers across unknown terrain. It is a fitting name for a wine that represents clarity, precision, and orientation in a world of wine that often feels lost in excess. In the glass, the Azimut glows with a pale golden hue, bright and clear as a Beaujolais morning. The nose is a complex interplay of citrus and stone fruit — lemon zest and green apple, white peach and fresh almond — with a distinctive mineral chalkiness that speaks of the ancient alluvial soils beneath the vines. There is no oak to mask the grape's intrinsic character, no malolactic manipulation to soften the acidity; only the pure expression of Chardonnay grown in healthy soil and fermented with patience. On the palate, it is simultaneously rich and razor-sharp — the kind of white wine that makes you sit up and pay attention, that demands food rather than idle sipping. The finish is long and saline, a reminder of the geological history of this place, the ancient seas that once covered these hills and left their mineral imprint in the soil. The Azimut is a wine for grilled fish, for goat cheese, for the simple, honest flavours of the Beaujolais table — a compass pointing toward the true north of natural white wine.

"Antécime" — The Gamay Horizon: The Antécime is one of Les Chemins de Traverse's flagship reds — a Gamay that takes its name from the point where the horizon meets the sky, the boundary between the known and the infinite. It is a wine that looks forward and backward simultaneously: backward to the traditions of Beaujolais, to the centuries of Gamay cultivation that have shaped this region; forward to a new expression of the grape, one that is unburdened by convention and free to explore the full range of its terroir potential. Made from organically grown Gamay, fermented with indigenous yeasts and aged with zero sulfur, the Antécime is a wine of explosive aromatics and surprising stability — proof that natural wine, when made with precision and patience, can achieve a level of clarity and consistency that rivals the most technically manipulated productions. In the glass, it shows a translucent ruby-purple colour, luminous and alive. The nose is a kaleidoscope of Beaujolais aromatics: fresh strawberries and wild raspberries, violet petals and crushed rose, a hint of black pepper and Mediterranean herbs, all carried on a current of mineral freshness that keeps the wine's fruit in perfect balance. On the palate, it is medium-bodied and silky, with tannins that are present but fine, providing structure without astringency. The acidity is vibrant and natural, a product of the high-density plantings and the careful farming that preserves the grape's intrinsic freshness. The finish is long and savoury, with notes of red cherry, wet earth, and a whisper of granite dust that speaks of the Pic Rémond terroir. The Antécime is a wine that evolves beautifully in the glass — fruity and accessible when first poured, developing earthy, spicy complexity as it breathes — and that will continue to evolve in bottle for years to come.

"Cairn" — The Stone Marker: The Cairn — formerly known as "Made in Chénas" — is the estate's most structured Gamay, a wine that takes its new name from the stone cairns that mark mountain paths, the piles of rocks that guide travellers through uncertain terrain. It is a fitting metaphor for a wine that serves as a landmark, a point of reference in the landscape of natural Beaujolais. Sourced from the granite soils at the foot of Pic Rémond, the Cairn is a more serious, more age-worthy expression of Gamay than the Antécime — a wine that demands patience and rewards contemplation. The granite terroir contributes a distinctive mineral backbone, a chalky, stony character that underpins the wine's fruit and provides the structure for long ageing. In its youth, the Cairn is tight and reserved, with aromas of dark cherry, plum, and wild herbs wrapped in a cloak of tannin and acidity. With time — in the glass, in the decanter, in the cellar — it unfolds to reveal layers of complexity: dried flowers, forest floor, smoked meat, and the unmistakable scent of hot granite cooling in the evening air. This is not a wine for casual drinking; it is a wine for the table, for robust dishes, for the kind of slow, deliberate meal that allows a great wine to show its full potential. The Cairn is Louis-Damien's tribute to the Chénas appellation, to the smallest of the Beaujolais crus, to the granite soils that make this place unique — and to the wandering path that led him here.

"Déambulle" — The Wandering Sparkle: The Déambulle is Les Chemins de Traverse's pétillant naturel — a sparkling Gamay that captures the playful, wandering spirit of the domaine in a bottle of pure, unadulterated joy. The name evokes the act of wandering, of strolling without destination, of following curiosity rather than itinerary — and the wine itself embodies this philosophy. Made from organically grown Gamay, bottled during fermentation to trap the wine's natural carbon dioxide, the Déambulle is an expressive beauty that hides beneath its playful appearance a true terroir expression of pure Gamay. It is not a serious, Champagne-style sparkling wine; it is a pét-nat — rustic, alive, slightly unpredictable, and utterly delicious. In the glass, it shows a pale pink or light ruby colour, with a gentle, persistent mousse that rises from the bottom of the glass like laughter. The nose is a burst of fresh red fruit — strawberry, raspberry, redcurrant — with a floral lift of rose and peony, and a yeasty, bread-like undertone from the extended lees contact. On the palate, it is light and refreshing, with a crisp acidity and a subtle tannic grip that provides structure and interest. The bubbles are fine but not aggressive, integrating seamlessly with the wine's fruit and mineral components. The finish is clean and appetising, with a hint of wild herbs and stone that speaks of the vineyard. The Déambulle is a wine for celebrations, for picnics, for the kind of spontaneous moments that define a life well-lived — a wandering sparkle that reminds us that wine, at its best, is about pleasure rather than pretension.

To understand Les Chemins de Traverse, one must understand that it is not merely a winery; it is a way of life, a philosophy of perpetual movement and adaptation, a refusal to stand still even when the ground beneath your feet is fertile and familiar. The name itself — "The Wandering Paths" or "The Crossroads" — is a declaration of intent: to never stop questioning, never stop changing, never stop discovering. For Claudia and Louis-Damien, this is not a marketing slogan; it is the truth of their existence, the principle that has guided them from New Zealand to the Mâconnais, from Chile to La Chapelle de Guinchay, from selling grapes to Philippe Jambon to forging their own identity with wines that bear their own name and express their own vision.

The transition from "Made in Chénas" to Les Chemins de Traverse was not merely a rebranding; it was a philosophical shift. Where the former was an appellation-bound, négociant-dependent operation, the latter is a declaration of independence — a choice to step outside the AOC system, to bottle as Vin de France, to free themselves from the constraints of appellation rules and create wines that answer only to their own standards of quality and authenticity. This is a risky path: Vin de France carries less prestige than Chénas or Beaujolais-Villages, and the market for appellation-free natural wine is unpredictable. But for Claudia and Louis-Damien, the risk is worth it. They believe that the appellation system, while valuable in preserving regional identity, can also become a straitjacket, preventing innovation and forcing winemakers into stylistic conformity. By choosing Vin de France, they are choosing freedom — the freedom to experiment, to blend across parcels, to push the boundaries of what Gamay and Chardonnay can express when liberated from the expectations of tradition.

But the wandering path is not only about wine; it is about family, community, and the kind of hospitality that transforms a winery visit into a lasting memory. Claudia and Louis-Damien are described by their importers as among the most hospitable winemakers in their portfolio — warm, jovial, generous hosts who serve delicious food alongside their fantastic wines and create an atmosphere of genuine conviviality that visitors do not soon forget. Their home is not a tasting room designed by an architect; it is a living space, a family home, a place where Santiago runs between the vines and the table is set with food grown on the property. The almond and cherry trees, the potato and asparagus fields, the wildflowers between the rows — all of these are not merely agricultural choices but expressions of a worldview that values integration over specialisation, wholeness over fragmentation, the good life over the efficient one.

The future of Les Chemins de Traverse is unwritten, and that is precisely how Claudia and Louis-Damien want it. They are ready for new adventures — adventures that matter, that make a difference, that contribute to the ongoing evolution of natural wine and sustainable agriculture. Philippe Jambon remains an important touchstone — critical but never cynical, pragmatic and mischievous — a reminder that the wandering path is best travelled with companions who challenge as well as support. The modernisation of the vineyard continues, with more parcels being converted to Cordon de Royat, more high-density plantings, more experiments with cover crops and soil biology. The cellar remains a place of patience and natural process, where wines are given the time they need and nothing is rushed or forced. And the family grows — Santiago will one day inherit this land, these vines, this philosophy, and the wandering path will continue into a new generation.

In an age of industrial wine production, of homogenised flavours and marketing-driven branding, Les Chemins de Traverse stands as a radical alternative — a small estate, farmed by hand, certified organic, committed to zero sulfur, producing wines of explosive aroma and surprising stability from grapes that express the granite and alluvium of La Chapelle de Guinchay. Claudia and Louis-Damien are not trying to build an empire; they are trying to live well, to make wine that nourishes rather than impresses, to cultivate a piece of land with the care and attention it deserves, and to raise their son in a world where the soil is alive and the wine is honest. This is the true meaning of Les Chemins de Traverse: not a destination, but a journey. Not a brand, but a life. Not a product, but a path — wandering, questioning, adapting, changing, and forever discovering what lies around the next bend.