I've kept a journal since our time with Bethany's family in Sunnyvale and considered simply transcribing it onto the blog and inserting pictures where they fit in the log, and I'm not going to do that. I've written 78 pages and taken hundreds of pictures. I'd be blogging for days not hours, and you'd be sleeping, not reading. I can't help but catalogue the minutiae for myself so that I can reference the mental catalogue later down the path, and I'm hoping that somehow I can rise from that and pick some formative periods to write about here that somehow will come close to summing up some of what's been happening in the last 30 or 40 days... Lordy it's been awhile. How about this: Welcome to the world of mini super-condensed stories, sometimes accompanied by some pictures. I'll start in Half Moon Bay where Sarah shuttled us after the splendid Sunnyvale visit.
1. We talked with an off duty SF cop who told us the best sneaky place to camp in McNee State Park, north of Half Moon Bay, and then warned us to be "alert and careful" if we ended up camping in Golden Gate Park. He's seen some things...
2. We met Ron and Bill, the self proclaimed "Tired Teachers" in Daly City California. To date they are the only other hikers we've met with a goal to walk a great length of coast. Though not continuous, they've nearly completed all parts of the California Coastal Trail in their spare time. Good guys in good spirits still adventurous in their 60s!
3. We stayed at the famed Green Tortoise Hostel, est. 1974, in NE San Francisco. Bottomline: Beer competition loving single people stay in the main hostel, cozy couples and singles arriving too late sleep in an "annex" a block away. Perfect.
4. Bethany and I circled down into central SF, then up to the Golden Gate Bridge, then across it, then walked 6 miles in the dark on our way to the Marin Headlands Hostel. With bad directions, we overshot it by a mile and a half and arrived after going temporarily insane and jogging with packs on at 11pm.
5. The next day we met a happy, energetic, encouraging and insatiably curious man who called himself Butter. We spent the next 2 1/2 days with him, learning about our surroundings and exploring our outlook on life, all while feeling loved and loving a great, great guy. This is one of my favorites of him.
6. We took the wrong trail on our way Stinson Beach and ended up at a small coastal ranch called Slide Ranch. After offering a little work we were welcomed heartily by one of the caretakers of the ranch named Ryan. We ate chard and greens from their gardens, I swam in the ocean for at least two full minutes, I milked a goat, saw installation mud art, listened to a teacher sing old Clapton into the ocean wind, learned about composting, fed chickens, and so much more. Slide Ranch was great, it's people were kindred, and they felt good. I would go back there if given the chance.
7. We walked through Bolinas, around Bolinas on the beach and up the coast into the Point Reyes wilderness. I met a kid named Brandon outside the food coop that shook hands with me and then told me he thought he had a staph (sp?) infection... grrrreat. We saw a lady that couldn't speak and wore burlap clothes, people with vortex eyes, and people that were sick on las drugas. : ( An old surf board maker gave Bethany some thick pink wool socks that were supposed to be white, and gave me a cool Bolinas Bay t-shirt with an octopus on it.
8. The Pt. Reyes wilderness was beautiful. I got to bathe in a waterfall that overlooked the ocean.
9. We met a Jew named Andy in the general store in Pt. Reyes Station that insisted that he find us the best sneaky camping that he would personally find and direct us to. In his car on the way back down the road Bethany found "Christian Dialogue" cds, and a Hulk Hogan doll, random. We ended up walking for a mile and a quarter in the dark through a cow pasture and setting up a camp on an old road that he promised would afford us a spectacular view in the morning. We weren't disturbed, and the view of the slough on the north side of the Pt. Reyes park was quite beautiful in the morning fog.
10. I mailed home my laptop in Marshall CA and we ate BBQ'd oysters across the road that had been freshly yanked that morning from Tomales Bay, a stone's throw away. Mmmm.
11. We ate some "country cookin" in Tomales and ate some pastries at a bakery next door that Andy swore was the best in California. It didn't blow our minds, and the country cooking left us bloated as we trekked north. We fought the wind for many a mile and tucked ourselves in for a siesta on a sunny hillside. We walked to a hamlet called Valley Ford and got carted from there to Bodega Bay by a couple with a dog named Benji eating Drumsticks (the ice cream ones) in their little Honda while they stayed out of the wind.
12. Bodega Bay was our meeting point for friends living in Santa Rosa to snatch us from the coast and let us hang out for a few days inland. Alex, Meg, and their exuberant pup Flash, treated us like royalty. We watched Alex whale on some other team in softball, played constantly with Flash, watched hockey and basketball together, went to a farmer's market and a head shop, to a brewery and a breakfast joint, to a great local grocer and Mexican joint. We chilled. We slept. We saw some wine country. We BBQ'd more oysters and ate fudge cake. Good times. Alex made sure we had gear to succeed. Holy cow, could we be doing this without his and other's help? Doubtful.
13. After an early AM dropoff in Bodega Bay by Alex we walked north for awhile and found an Indian Restaurant in the middle of nowhere on the banks of the Russian River. Reasonably priced and so amazingly delicious! We made our way onwards to Jenner CA, which we'd been warned was the start of a territory where we shouldn't camp due to an unsolved and pointless murder of a camping couple in recent times. Boy was that a great feeling hanging over our day! We ended up camping quietly in a river bed, and obviously came away unscathed. Here's a picture of Jenner's Post Office. It's about the person inside, not the facility!
14. Next we hiked "Sonoma's Lost Coast". With our newly acquired trekking poles in hand we walked/hiked/scrambled/scampered/traversed/trudged through 8 miles of tough shoreline. 1 mile an hour. We saw black oystercatchers, we ate lunch a 100 feet from harbor seals and their pups, we rescued stranded crabs and starfish, we saw the remains of many cars and motorcycles that had made the fatal plunge down from highway 1, hundreds of feet above us. A stellar an exhausting day. Here's a picture of Bethany in typical terrain that day and another of a luxury BMW wrecked a rusted gold.
I'm signing off for now because it's nearly evening and tonight we get to celebrate my Dearest coming into her 29th year! (Meaning she's 28...) Love to you!!
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