|from bluff overlooking top of Alamere Falls, Point Reyes NP|
Sunday. I persuaded a friend to do a 7.5 mile hike in Marin. I wanted so badly to get out after the rains and try these Daniel Smith pigment sticks that I mis-read the distance to Alamere Falls: yes, 7.5 miles --one way. I also failed to register the meaning of a dirt road lined with cars on the satellite picture. There would be crowds.
We ended up picking over muddy trails, single-file with every other politically-traumatized and rain-fatigued local. More than enough hours had passed, yet we had no sense of being anywhere near the shore. I consulted the map and realized my error: we'd be taking our wintersoft bodies twice as far as anticipated. Deal! Doubling-down is in these days. As we neared what just had to be the descent to the falls, some of the earlier-risers were heading back, toward us. Our file stood aside and asked, How far to the falls?
It's closed, a big dude answered. For a tired nanosecond, we long-marchers believed him! After all, for the past 4 months, we'd been sheltering indoors, hearing bad-upon-bad news. It's a National Park; could they...?? The landscape colors and the sounds of the Pacific beyond pounded sense into us. We chuckled sheepishly and marched on.