Call it 3.6 miles. Six miles fewer than we’d planned and 1920 fewer feet climbed, but the weather looked ominous. The paper warned of high winds and trees falling. The doppler radar showed a broad stripe of bright orange just off the coast from Eureka to Paso Robles. I’ve walked eight miles in pouring rain before and been quite comfortable in my pile clothes, but the falling limbs idea was daunting. So we went to Point Pinole instead. Two miles out to the point and back, a stop midway to stand in the rain and eat ham sandwiches.
A gray wet haze hung over the Bay. Marin’s ridgelines reduced to silhouettes. Tankers drifted past en route up-river. We stood atop a crumbling cliff fifty feet above the shore.
Frogs sang at the freshwater pond in mid-peninsula, its winter tules thick and green. There is a stretch of trail at Point Pinole, a field backed by a stand of eucalyptus, that reminds me of the first dirt roads I walked, the trails behind my uncle’s farms that I will not see again.
the trails behind my uncle’s farms that I will not see again.
That’s sad. Why? has it been built over (like the dirt roads I used to ride my horse along, and the paddock she lived in?)
Thanks for your recent post about my old hometown, Boron.
Helen, both the uncles I was thinking of have sold their farms. And it’s unlikely I’ll go traipsing around on them with the new owners’ permission: I don’t even know when I’ll make it back East at all.
Heather, I’m beginning to be more and more fond of Boron.
Even a hike of 100 feet can be replete with discovery and wonder. And hikes in the rain are without compare!
one of my son’s birthday parties was at pt. pinole—i think it was his 10th. all the kids brought their bikes; as usual back in the day, siblings were invited, too. they all tore around the trails on bikes, ran around laughing and yelling in the sun, ate impressive amounts. it was june, but there was a good stiff breeze off the bay, and we had to plop the cake into a container to keep the candles from blowing out…
a couple of years later, one of the boys at the party—the younger brother of my son’s good friend—was diagnosed with brain cancer. he struggled for 3 years before he died, and has been gone nearly 4 years now. but i have such a vivid memory of him and his 2 older brothers that day, with their bikes and smiles, and how his parents snuck off for a “date” knowing the boys would have a grand time.
thanks for bringing up a lovely memory.
The title of this post is my favorite so far. I like the subject too.
And the pretty yellow flowers.
Walk in rain; both a description and a good suggestion.
The title of this post is my favorite so far.
Why’s that, Rain?