On the Road - Volcanoes, Wine Country and Marin

Here we go again. Call it escape, wanderlust, adventure… but it’s an itch that needs to be scratched. A periodic re-connection with me and what makes me tick. The moment I get on the road I feel the freedom to be me and only me. I’m back in my skin. People ask, “Isn’t it scary on the road?”  Quite the opposite, I say.  It’s mighty scary to take on the next work contract and go back to the same daily grind, and downright easy to “head out on the highway… looking for adventure, and whatever comes my way…” as Steppenwolf suggested. I wasn’t born to be wild, but I was born to explore and observe and enjoy what the world has to offer. The most natural, comfortable place for me for the next few months is on the open road.



The Mendocino Coast

So I head south on a gloriously sunny morning in Seattle. Mt. Rainier watches over me as I make my way out of the city. On the van’s stereo Sheryl Crow takes the words out of my mouth - “gonna soak up the sun, gonna tell everyone to lighten up.” I travel down volcano row as I approach the wine country of California – St. Helens, Hood, Adams, Jefferson, Shasta and Lassen whiz by on my left. The Cowlitz, Kalama, Umpqua, and Rogue Rivers are swollen and full to the brim from rains and melting snowpack. I motor through the familiar northern California stretch of olives and grapes and Mexican radio. In Hopland, hydroponics equipment and “forever flowering” greenhouses are sold. I see personalized license plates reading “GRN GRO,” and “PLNT JOY” while motoring through pot-friendly Mendocino County, and swoon at the undulating Tuscan-like ribbon of highway through rolling hills, lovely oaks and tall grasses of Sonoma County. Deliciously curvy Highway 29 drops me down into the fertile Alexander Valley vineyards and Calistoga’s medicinal springs. As I meander up and down, east and west along narrow forest roads connecting the coastal hills with spectacular Pacific headlands covered in colorful wildflowers, Talking Heads on my stereo sings of “Heaven,” and the smell of madronas and horse ranches wafts.

Wine is serious business in Sonoma County, and every quaint small town features numerous tasting rooms, wine festivals, and wine-themed gift shops. The locals don’t seem to mind the repetition. In Healdsburg I sample a bright pinot gris, then I fall back to my first love and order a basil gimlet at the uber hip, open-air “Spoonbar!” The Sicilian sardine and eggplant appetizer is lovely. I catch a bit of big band music at the annual jazz festival in the park, stealthily navigating between family picnics, artfully arranged on colorful quilts.


Mt. Tamalpais Sunset

I arrive at friend James’ San Rafael place mid-day on June 8 and immediately we take up where we left off the last time I motored through. We reminisce about our 1997 Venice meeting and travels around Italy, we eat and drink with gusto (James spoils me with his wonderful cooking), we hike Mt. Tamalpais trails to magical waterfalls, and enjoy a sunset picnic overlooking the Pacific. Then we hike down in the darkness with a flashlight to guide us, and we have fun imagining unseen creatures lurking in the shadows. At the local Iron Springs pub I'm surprised to meet Michael, a fellow Todos Santos, Baja Mexico land-owner and we run through the list of friends we have in common. Another small world encounter.

I look forward to seeing Lyle Lovett and John Hiatt's acoustic duo tonight at the Marin Center. And I can feel the Astro van getting energized for the upcoming trek into the Desert Southwest...