The North coast of California's highway 1 is a forgotten beauty, not far from the congested freeways of San Francisco. After Bodega Bay, cliffs loom in the fog and white trailers scale the greenery like Dall's sheep. A rattle of cattle grids shakes passengers awake and marks the beginning of what was first known to me as "Dramamine Drive". Vultures circle at eye level and cows stand on the shoulder of the road, chewing their cud and daring oncoming traffic to take the corner just a little too fast. I've often marveled at how high those cliffs were and wondered how long it would take to hear a cow's splash.
Before long the cattle grid has sounded, marking the end of the cliffs, and tall trees have grown over the road. Pines give way to groves of damp Eucalyptus in the fog with stands of redwood and fern interspersed. Here is the land of Huckleberry bushes and mushrooms nestled between roots. Spanish moss drips from branches and signposts, while blackberry bushes line gutters by the road. This is the Sonoma Coast.
Before long the cattle grid has sounded, marking the end of the cliffs, and tall trees have grown over the road. Pines give way to groves of damp Eucalyptus in the fog with stands of redwood and fern interspersed. Here is the land of Huckleberry bushes and mushrooms nestled between roots. Spanish moss drips from branches and signposts, while blackberry bushes line gutters by the road. This is the Sonoma Coast.
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| Between Bodega Bay and the cliffs |
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