There is something incredibly exhilarating about cutting ties, packing up, and moving on to new places and experiences. People have guffawed the idea and basically told us it's silly to cut ties and move on without jobs or apartments lined up, but isn't it sillier to be tied down to jobs and comforts without questioning what is around the next bend. There are believers and there are doubters, Justine and I don't let the naysayers keep us down. They tend to get in the way of a good time.
After leaving Humboldt County, our first stop was the wine country around the Russian River Valley and some prime beach camping at Wright Beach, near Jenner. We stopped at a couple of wineries for tastings, the highlight being the Copolla Winery. The Copolla Winery offers tons of great varietals of wine (Pinot Nior, Cabernet Sauvingnons , and Syrahs). They also have some prime wine tasting digs at their huge vineyard which overlooks the huge Russian River Valley. They usually cook up a pretty mean wood-fire pizza, but they are currently building bigger and better facilities, so their wood-fire oven is out of commission. We fed our inner hunger for classic California wood-fire pizza by heading into the town of Geyserville and eating at Diavola Pizzeria. The best part of Diavola is that they make their own sausage and cure their own meats. We ordered a big salad and a pizza loaded with sausages, peppers, and other sundry delights. After our wine tasting session I was hoping to order a bottle of wine with dinner, but the wine at Diavola is pricey. I opted for the delicious, cold, and FREE pitcher of ice water to go with dinner. Justine and I saved our money for a six-pack to go with our campfire on the beach and some stargazing at the edge of the Pacific Ocean...Caution though...Don't stare at the stars for too long or else your feet will get wet with the incoming tide. Everybody knows how hard it is to dry a pair of boat shoes crammed in the back of a Honda while on a camping trip.
Wright Beach is one of the best campgrounds on the beach close to wine country, it's also one of the priciest. It costs $35 a night for a beach-front campsite. It's definitely worth it, if you're made of money. I, personally, don't think that a fellow should have to pay that much money to pitch a tent on the ground at a state owned campground. I have no problem paying $15 to sleep on the ground in paradise, but I could almost get a motel room with cable TV and running water for $35. Expensive camping is something Justine and I have learned to deal with and find ways around, I have come to call it 'Pirate Camping'. There are times, while on the road, when you really just need a place to pitch a tent, light a fire, and catch some ZZZ's. 'Pirate Camping' is not for the weak of heart, or those who are afraid of schmoozing the occasional Park Ranger, it involves a blatant callousness for the rules and regulations.
Camping usually involves a certain level of self policing, the camper fills out a self-registration and drops it into a box...and then he goes on his merry way, camping and enjoying the great, monitered out-of-doors. 'Pirate Camping' involves much of the same, but instead of dropping that self-registration envelope filled with $35 of your hard-earned dollars into the nameless box, you hold onto it until the nice Park Ranger comes and confronts you about not paying for your beach front camp-site. The savvy 'Pirate Camper' always has his envelope ready to hand in, but has a good reason for not turning it in. I usually rely on the classic 'incorrect change' excuse, but sometimes if you encounter a particularly asshole-ish Park Ranger, then there becomes the need for the ability to improvise. We didn't need to use any of the classic tricks at Wright Beach, we arrived late and woke up early...Thus avoiding anyone asking us for money. We had a sweet campfire, a nice stroll on the nighttime beach, and some great sleep...
Sunrise comes early to a tent on the beach after a full day of leaving behind your home and tasting wine all day. We packed up the tent and headed South on HWY 1. After coffee and bagels with blackberry jam in Bodega Bay, we headed towards some tasty waves at Dillon Beach. The drive down to Dillon Beach is absolutely beautiful. It's a windy country road, flanked on each side by beautiful, green pasturelands filled with sheep and cows. Morning drives along the California coast are so beautiful that I lack the words to convey it all, I could have a thesaurus in one hand and my journal in the other and still be at a loss for adjectives to tell you how wonderful the West coast is in the morning. A morning drive along the North coast is nothing but the dankest green pastures, rocky headlands, and glassy waves. I must have mind-surfed a hundred waves on the drive to Dillon Beach, but I'm happy I waited to pull on my wetsuit until we got to Dillon Beach proper to do it.
Justine and I got down to the beach and scoped out the break. It was the perfect set-up for some mellow wave riding. Waist high and glassy waves were the name of the game. There were perfect sets just peeling into the bay. I could hardly contain my excitement as I pulled on my wetsuit and waxed up the boards. From the car I could watch the waves peel by unridden. It was all I could do not to skip around the parking lot in jubilation. Justine and I paddled out and surfed all morning alone, in perfect waist high peeling waves. The water was crystal clear and in between sets we stared inland, towards those dank green pastures and hundreds of happy California cows. As we were peeling off our wetsuits, a couple of surf dudes pulled into the parking lot and asked us how it was out in the water. We chatted with them for a bit, gathering local knowledge about the spot we surfed. They chuckled when I asked how sharky it was out there. Locals called the spot we were surfing 'The Shark Pit'.
After our morning of surfing, we threw on some clean clothes and headed south on HWY 1, towards San Francisco and an afternoon of revelry. From Dillon Beach it's about 2 hours into the heart of the city. By mid-afternoon we were digesting some tasty In-And-Out Burgers and climbing onto a Cable Car for a cheap ride around the city. For $11 you can buy an all day pass on the Cable Cars and ride around the city to your heart's content. Justine and I usually buy the pass each trip, they're good for free rides on the buses and trolleys too. A good strategy for saving cash in the city is to find cheap all day parking outside the heart of the city and then take public transportation into the middle of everything. All day parking at Fisherman's Wharf costs around $10, while parking garages downtown start at about $25.
San Francisco is made up of districts, all of them have their own flavor and attractions. We usually like hitting up the Market, Financial, Haight-Ashbury, and Waterfront Districts. Union Square is definitely a fun place to walk around. It's a huge amalgamation of people...business people hustling towards meetings, Japanese tourists snapping pictures, shoppers walking with bags of designer clothes, bums begging change and offering directions, and every other type of person imaginable from every walk of life. Justine wanted to pop into a couple of shops that she regularly frequents on trips. She shops better without me looking over her shoulder, so we set a time to meet back up and I moseyed along the streets...taking in the sights and sounds. There's an Irish pub called 'Time For A Pint' that I like popping into while Justine is shopping in Union Square, so I walked that way and grabbed a frosty pint of Anchor Steam while my lady shopped.
After meeting back up, we grabbed a Cable Car and rode around towards Chinatown, past many great memories we had made during 2 1/2 years of visiting San Francisco. It will be weird not to visit this town every month or so, I'm sure we'll be back within a few years for another visit...but it'll never be the same again. With the sun setting over the Pacific and lighting up the city with a golden glow, we headed out of the city and towards Santa Cruz.
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