ALL SIGNS ‘POINT’ TO YES

Things To Do: Point Reyes & Point Reyes Station

One thing my mom always instilled in us, from a very young age, is to be adventurous and travel as much as
possible. So, every time she comes to visit from wherever in the world she’s living to wherever in the world I
am, we make sure to take time to see something new.

The last time she came to visit, she came from her home in Massachusetts to mine in the So-Co, we ventured
out to Point Reyes and Point Reyes Station. My last memory of Point Reyes was very vague and hardly
memorable. In my defense, I was age 5. I only remembered that it was known for it’s lighthouse and whale
watching, but I couldn’t piece together much more. So, naturally, off we went in search of adventure in the
quaint little town by the ocean. After driving a little more than an hour along the coast, through rambling wheat-
colored hills, we found ourselves in the tiny town of Point Reyes Station. Both sides of the street were lined
with quaint stores filled with books, hand made jewelry, gifts, dogs and, well, tourists like ourselves. There
were a few bars and restaurants scattered throughour, but my favorite stop was Toby’s Feed Barn — part feed
store, part gift sore complete with specialty foods and hand painted dishes, luxurious bath products, candles,
artwork and Point Reyes-inspired garb. What can I say, I’m a sucker for feed stores, not necessarily for the
smell of alfalfa, but I’ve never had bad customer service in one which makes my heart swell.
 After meandering through town (it is just such place to do just such thing), we jumped in the car heading
for the sea. We drove through miles of fog and bucolic scenery complete with lazy cows and windswept
wildflowers imagining, for a moment, that were in the emerald hills of Ireland.

We parked Blanca (our fearless transporter) with the other cars in the ‘lot’ and headed out on foot through the
mist and fog. We took the easier, paved path through dripping trees, past buildings and relics from another age
and time, ending up at what was believed to be a 30 story, descending staircase down to the lighthouse. The fog
was too thick to see through so we opted to stand at the top and watch waves crash at the cliff’s edge rather than
make the climb.
When we’d had enough of taking pictures and talking to tourists and their dogs, we followed the path back to
Blanca who drove us so graciously, back through the golden hillsides covered in snoozing cows and lulling
flowers, past the ocean side, back into blue skies and warm, still air, relishing our latest impulsive adventure.

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