Return to Tomales Bay

We were back in Tomales Bay this weekend for more kayaking. This time we stayed in Dillon Beach at a little one-bedroom cottage we rented a few blocks from the beach.

We dropped the boats in where Tomales Bay meets the Pacific Ocean at a private RV park called Lawson’s Landing. This place is unique in that it’s the only place one can see rednecks and Trump supporters in Marin County.

When we arrived the night before, we got news Ruth Bader Ginsberg had died. So seeing all that trash whooping it up was all the more disappointing.

Don’t get me wrong. I love camping, and I own a camper, but RV’ing is not camping. It’s a trailer park flash mob. I admit it. I hate being around rednecks. They can’t have a good unless it’s ruining someone else’s good time. Everything they bring has a 2-cycle engine and requires gas. So they’re stinking up the place and drowning out everyone else’s music. If I didn’t give a shit about the environment, I’d invent a diesel powered Bluetooth speaker that belches black smoke to Uncle Cracker.

Back in the boats, life was good again. Low-tide was ending and all the clammers were heading back to shore. We crossed the boat channel and careened along the coves of Point Reyes before heading back against the tide and wind. It took about three times longer to cover the same distance. Still, totally worth it. All morning we were surrounded by seals and brown pelicans. No shark sightings, which was a little disappointing.

After kayaking, we packed a picnic with Caprese sandwiches and cold beers. Then we just chilled on the beach for a couple hours. You know, like a couple of boogie lib yuppies.

For dinner we drove down to Nick’s Cove. We met up with some friends and their 11-week old American Bully puppy – Bear. There was a perfect sunset, followed by just a sliver of moon. A great night to see the Milky Way. We closed Nick’s and drove back up Highway 1 in the dark. A totally different experience from driving it during the day.

Hi-atus

I know it’s coming up on a year since I last posted something. Not for a lack of having anything to say, as much as inertia. So here’s a big post in terms of bandwidth, not necessarily content.

August 2020 was a blur. It started out pretty low-key. We went kayaking up in Tomales Bay and stayed at Nick’s Cove. It was a great relaxing weekend, just the kind of break we needed to prepare ourselves for plagues 6 and 7 of 2020.

  • Loaded up the new Outback with the Kayaks
  • Nick’s waterfront cabins
  • All the big names
  • Boat house
  • Hog Island in the fog
  • Hog Island of oyster fame, in the morning
  • Tomales Bay

What started as an unpleasant heatwave – temps around 105-110 range became a local blackout. For us, it wasn’t a rolling blackouts like the rest of the state. The substation in our town had a massive failure. So we checked into a hotel. The next morning we woke up to a lightning storm right out of Ghostbusters.

In about an hour, there were over 12,000 lightning strikes. Many of them set off fires that are still burning, having claimed 1.6 million acres and counting.

The SCU Lightning Complex fire has the dubious distinction of being the 2nd largest fire in California history, and the one closest to where I live.

At one point we were 1 mile from the evacuation zone. I live in town, far from nature, so wildfires didn’t used to be a concern for me. Ever since Santa Rosa in 2017, all bets are off.

The skies and air quality has been improving. Today feels kind of normal. A week ago, we had one of the worst AQI scores in the world at 300. It was the worst I’ve seen, and I’ve been to Delhi, India in October.

Today a friend asked how we were doing with the fires. I told him it looks like we’re out of the woods for now, because, after all these fires, I think California is out of woods.

  • First signs of smoke from the SCU fire, 10 miles away.
  • Mount Diablo in the distance
  • Smoke from the LZU complex fire 50 miles north
  • Sunset under cloud of smoke.
  • Vineyards of Concannon
  • AQI 300+
  • 1 week of fires
  • Scorched earth at Sycamore Grove
  • Burned hill where I mountain bike weekly.