On Saturday, J and I drove to Bolinas with K and G in a Zipcar.
The shuffled playlist of my driving mix played all the worst tracks, and the auxiliary connection was loose.
We got to town early, so we set up blankets on the surprisingly crowded Bolinas Beach and sunned ourselves to the sound of surf, surfers, dogs and children.
Shells of large, dead crabs were scattered on the sand and bumper-to-bumper traffic sparkled on the Coast Highway.
After getting enough sun, we drove around mystical feeling neighborhoods on the cliff top. Many of the roads were dirt. Bumps.
A tour bus took us from the parking spot at a school into Paradise Valley. The farm, named after the valley, was fairly small but full of fruit trees, greens, goats, and chickens.
It was a family farm, run by an older sun-leathered couple. A modern hippy group lived there too, but their story was unclear.
The informal appetizers and seated dinner were accompanied by a wide variety of interesting craft beers brewed by Firestone Walker.
Since I don’t enjoy sitting by strangers in restaurants, the dinner at the long table was a test of will. Luckily, the strangers next to us were amicable enough and the constant arrival and explanation of food and beer provided something to talk about.
The meal and beers were excellent. If I had taken a better picture of the menu, I would have shared it.
Unintentional smartphone ad.
Road to the hot house.
Bale, tomatoes and distant goat.
Garlic drying in the barn.
Fire pit and chairs.
A slice of the lengthy dinner table.
Staged postcard moment.
Lettuce not be driven into making puns.
J and I sitting still for a photo.
K and G.
A shot down the dinner table. Notice the well-off people paying a ton of money to sit there?
Wild salmon, peppers, and more. The thin green pieces were a salty tasting marsh grass.
Duck and ravioli.
Traffic was smooth by evening. We drove along the coast without seeing much over the perilous drops. I took the turns with vigor, testing the stomach of the passenger who was sensitive to motion.
Choice: Do you give in the failure of the reptilian part of your brain, or do hold in the $200 meal inside your belly?
Also, J and I have been preparing for selling my Dordles at the San Francisco Renegade Craft Fair on July 27-28.
More information on this event, in blog form, will come soon.