Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, October 3, 1993 TAG: 9310050309
SECTION: HORIZON PAGE: F-6 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: By CHRISTOPHER REYNOLDS LOS ANGELES TIMES
DATELINE: POINT REYES STATION, CALIF. LENGTH: Long
And let's not forget their weekend secrets. For decades, San Franciscans and their suburban neighbors have been quietly passing Saturdays and Sundays in the wind-swept, mist-soaked towns of underpopulated western Marin County. Strolling beside the waves at Stinson Beach. Looking down on placid Tomales Bay from the warm firesides of Inverness. Leaning into the wind to watch the Pacific pulverize the rocks beneath the Point Reyes Lighthouse.
But when their Sundays wane, the Bay Areans have to pack up their Subarus and crawl back across the Golden Gate Bridge to another workweek. And it is then that the shrewd Southern Californian should strike.
While the people in The City toil, we Southern Californians take a week off, fly into San Francisco International Airport, steer the rental car north for an hour or so, and fall into a cycle of great repose. We sleep in otherwise empty bed and breakfasts, sift for sand dollars on lonely beaches, hike alone on mossy wilderness paths. We dine in uncrowded restaurants, making our way home on two-lane roads, braking only for deer. And we share this Ireland-with-hot-tubs landscape with only about 11,000 residents, spread among 13 towns.
Granted, Marin's marine end isn't quite that empty every week. Rangers at Point Reyes National Seashore area counted 2.6 million visitors in 1992, most of them in January (when whales are migrating southward), March (when the whales are returning north) and the sunny months of July and August. But in spring and fall, local folks will concede under questioning, the pace slows pleasurably. In winter, it slows even further. On two of the four nights my wife and I passed there in late February, we were the only guests in our lodgings. "Of our California business, I'd say easily 70 percent comes from the Bay Area, and others come from all over the state," says Harmony Grisman, executive director of the West Marin Chamber of Commerce. Instead of setting their sights on Marin County, Grisman theorizes, many Southern Californians "think of San Francisco, and they think of the wine country, and maybe they think of the big tree area and Mendocino."
Which leaves those of us in West Marin plenty of room for what we do best: Northern exploitation.
Once you follow California 101 north across the Golden Gate Bridge, city trappings begin to fall away. On California 1 (Shoreline Highway), the narrow, meandering path down the low slopes of Mount Tamalpais, they vanish entirely. The reward for that hour of demanding driving is Stinson Beach.
The population is estimated at anywhere from 800 to 1,500. The beach, white and wind-raked, stretches three miles. And the commercial center of town, a few yards from the beach, takes up no more than two blocks along the highway.
The choices are simple. If you can afford $125 a night, you probably stay at the stylish Casa del Mar, a block uphill from the highway, and get a purple pansy on your melon at breakfast. If you can afford $50, you book into the spartan, funky Stinson Beach Motel, right on the highway. You can browse the bookstores (one new, one used) or a couple of art galleries, or the New Age-flavored gift shop.
For dinner, you probably duck into the Stinson Beach Grill, an old wooden house with a wood-burning stove in the dining room and jazz from the 1940s on its sound system. It is the best-regarded eatery in town, and our meal there was served up with a sideshow of animal behavior and West Marin priorities.
Taking my order for crab cakes, our waitress interrupted herself to trot to the front window and greet Sparky, a sheep dog affiliated with a local couple also dining in the restaurant. Later, by the rear door, the cook paused to watch Jake (the restaurant cat) vie with a wild fox for that evening's salmon snack at the dumpster. A few weeks before, the waitress told us, an opossum sneaked into the restaurant and led the entire crew on a chase around a full dining room. A veritable wild kingdom - and excellent crab cakes, too.
the Shoreline Highway continues north - running more or less along the San Andreas Fault - with Tomales Bay dead ahead. For the northbound driver, the wide-open spaces of Point Reyes National Seashore sprawl to the left, and the rolling country of Golden Gate National Recreation Area rises and falls to the right.
The seashore territory's principal landmark is the Point Reyes Lighthouse, an outpost atop rock cliffs on a site that rangers describe as the windiest point on the Pacific Coast, and the second-foggiest point, after Nantucket, on the continent. The lighthouse, built in 1870, ceased active service in 1975, and is now maintained by the National Park Service and neighbored by cypress trees that clutch like witches' fingers against the hillside. From high ground there and elsewhere, visitors can see the surf pounding desolate beaches for miles, and imagine the great white sharks said to congregate in those waters.
Several miles north of the Point Reyes Lighthouse, at the peninsula's northwestern tip, is the seashore's 2,600-acre Tule Elk Refuge, a bluff-top area covered by thick grasses that ripple in the strong wind.
One day, hiking along the Tomales Point Trail through the refuge area, we spotted a pair of deer, saw two skunks, and we grunted hello to a score of fellow hikers. But we saw not one elk. After about six miles, we gave up, slunk back to our car at the trail head, and heard a rustling sound.
It was hoofs scraping against thick grass. Dumbstruck at our car doors, we watched three dozen elk dash across the parking lot entrance, antlers flashing down a gully, up a rise and into memory.
That's the risk to bear in mind when traveling in Northern Californian territories: Just when you think you have their habits figured out, they'll cross you.
If you go
For those flying into San Francisco International Airport, it makes sense to rent a car at the airport. Downtown Point Reyes Station lies about 50 miles north of the Golden Gate Bridge, an hour's drive via Highway 101 and Francis Drake Boulevard, or a 90-minute drive on more scenic Shoreline Highway (California 1), which runs through Stinson Beach.
For more information: Contact the West Marin Chamber of Commerce (P.O. Box 1045, Point Reyes Station, Calif. 94956), Point Reyes National Seashore's Bear Valley Visitor Center, or the Point Reyes Lighthouse Visitor Center.
by CNB