For some reason there were a bunch of really fast, really good motorcyclists on Hwy One last night. Not in a bunch, but one by one. One guy passed me (over double line) like a rocket. Zoom! Out of sight in a blink. Another passed me, then took the corner leaning halfway off the bike. They were at one with their bikes, and at high speed.
The fog was creeping in from the ocean and every foghorn was going off, all different tones, like they were talking together. Moaning. One night, I slept in my truck down by the Palace of Fine Arts, close to the GG bridge, and the foghorns were astoundingly deep and loud. Window rattlers. Somehow comforting.
Yesterday Lew told me he went for a run by a local creek, heard splashing, and came around the corner to see a huge female salmon spawning, and 3 males jockeying for insemination position. Pretty good for such scant recent rainfall.
This garden figure along my hike last night.
“Hi Lloyd, I read about your attempted trip around Point Reyes and got really inspired to try it myself. My girlfriend and I, plus a couple of friends in Point Reyes Station, are currently making plans and building out our ultralight kits. In our studies we came across this page and thought you might find it interesting: Click here. Thanks for the ongoing inspiration, keep it up! -Sean”
More here.
From my seafaring pal, Canadian artist Godfrey Stephens
Got up at 6 this morning, got to Limantour Beach around 7 and started the 2-mile beach trek to pick up my surfboard. For how it got there (I buried it in the sand 2 weeks ago), click here and here. I put my 2-wheel surfboard carrier in a backpack so I wouldn’t have to drag it after me. Here are pics of it. I had marked the spot in the lee of a north/south sand dune with 2 pieces of driftwood. Everythng was as I left it. 2 miles back to truck, enjoying many birds and a few sea lions in surf zone.
Well, not exactly. The skateboarders (see below) told me they’d been going mat-surfing by moonlight (like the Hook in Santa Cruz w. no one else out). They were going out last night, so I and suited up and got into the water at 8, about 15 minutes after sunset. The guys were out, two mats and a board. You could see OK for maybe 45 minutes, until you couldn’t make out the horizon. Moon not up yet. Small waves, kind of sloppy rides, but it was kind of exquisite and unique, being in the ocean as light faded, paddling the quarter-mile back to the take-out point guided by the beach house lights. In all these years, I never thought of going out at sunset.
It made me think of swimming one night in the cove at aquatic Park in San Francisco. In the ’90s, I belonged to the the South End Rowing Club and would swim in the cove about once a week. I decided to try swimming one night. As soon as I got into the water, I felt this exhilaration, maybe it was a feeling of independence. This was unique. No one knew I was there; I was on my own and I was comfortable. The lights of Ghirardelli Square sparkled on the water. I could see the Buena Vista Café, all lit up. Yesss!
Got back to the club, took a sauna, and was I wired! Natural high.
“Sea otters gather in a yacht harbor in Moss Landing. Scientists were pleased to see the population increase after a decrease was observed from 2009 to 2010. Photo: Noah Berger, Special To The Chronicle / SF”
These guys just crack me up, the way they lie on their backs. Relaxation. In the ’50s, there was one at the Wild Hook surf spot in Santa Cruz who would come right up to us as we sat on our boards. We called him Sammy the sea otter.
A deer leapt across the road and when she went into the brush, she seemed to float, as if time was frozen for a moment (brings to mind Baryshnikov). When I climbed up out of Jenner, to the winding road that’s maybe 500′ above the ocean, the fog was just at the edge of the road and cliff; it was like skimming the edge of a cloud. You could hear, but not see, the ocean below. A little while later I saw this turkey buzzard and he let me get pretty close. I’d hoped he’d spread his wings, as these birds do, looking somehow medieval, but he didn’t.
Caught 2 eels Friday, plus these nice little rock crabs (with 20′-long bamboo poke pole). Then I got a 10-lb. salmon from local fisherman (who says there are salmon up and down the coast right now—yahoo!). I smoked salmon and eels.
Went surfing Saturday, too many people for me. That’s one thing that really was good about the ’50s: uncrowded waves. Think 8 feet and glassy at Steamer Lane, 4 of us out. (Oh I gotta stop this!) So I did a lot of paddling Saturday, working on shoulder(s) rehab. It’s always a plus to get in the ocean, in any manner. Surfing, paddling, swimming, diving…super energy gain.
For some reason there were a bunch of really fast, really good motorcyclists on Hwy One last night. Not in a bunch, but one by one. One guy passed me (over double line) like a rocket. Zoom! Out of sight in a blink. Another passed me, then took the corner leaning halfway off the bike. They were at one with their bikes, and at high speed.
