Going Coastal

One of the first stops up the California coast is the Point Reyes National Seashore. (Richard Blair - Point Reyes Visions)

The nine ocean beaches surrounding the Point Reyes peninsula are too cold for swimming, but we find ourselves perfectly satisfied to stroll and explore.

At Drake's Beach, high white cliffs tower over the sandy beaches. When Sir Francis Drake arrived here in 1579, he noted in his diary that the beach reminded him of the white cliffs of Dover, and he claimed the land for England. The natives, the Coast Miwok, thinking Drake and his crew were the spirits of their dead ancestors, apparently did not object.

The waters of Tomales Bay, on the eastern side of the peninsula, are said to be warm enough for swimmers, but I'd say for hearty swimmers. At the same time, I don't think the wet suits provided by the kayak company we used were necessary.

In retrospect, I wish we had started our paddling at Inverness, where the bay is more sheltered, and numerous small islands provide refuge for birds and turtles. But we figured that if we started at Marshall, farther north on the bay, we could kayak all the way to the elk feeding grounds.

Indeed, this is something a good kayaker should be able to accomplish, particularly on a calm day. On a day when wind is whipping up whitecaps, and you aren't a better kayaker than your children, you'd be better off reserving time to drive to see the elk.

Then again, the launching point at Marshall does have its pluses -- namely, a rough little restaurant built on a pier over the bay, where fresh oysters from nearby are cooked over an open grill. Or you can have them in a stew. We did both.

The best thing about traveling with friends: They very well might convince you to do something you wouldn't do otherwise, and it may turn out you enjoy it.

That is how I ended up at the Point Reyes Farmstead, where the milk from just over 300 cows is pumped directly into a vat that churns out the whey, with what's left becoming a gourmet blue cheese.

There are no organized tours of this organic farm -- you just call up, and if someone's around, they say sure, come on over.

From Highway 1, we climb a private road that cuts through hilly pastures and are treated to one of the best views on the peninsula. Pat McIntyre, wife of master cheesemaker Monte McIntrye, guides us through a complex, multi-step process that starts in the milking barns.

The two girls are so impressed, they decide that blue cheese, which they formerly hated, is really good. But only, of course, if it's from Point Reyes. Luckily, it turns out Whole Foods carries the brand.

On our final day together, I drive our friends north to Santa Rosa to pick up a rental car so they can head off on a separate journey. We arrive in the city off Highway 101 and look up the rental car company's address. Uh, it's in San Raphael, in the opposite direction. Easy mistake for three intelligent adults to make. After many calls, we discover there is one car left to rent in all of Santa Rosa, and we nab it.

As my daughter and I head alone back to the coast along Route 128, we soon begin realize that we've shortchanged our friends: The best part of the trip is yet to come.

Mendocino, She Wrote

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The inland drive takes us by rolling hills that glow golden in the sun, then past a series of wineries, with vineyards stretching as far as we can see. Route 128 seems to end at Navarro, but a clerk in the only store along the way assures us that the narrow road over a bridge to the west really is a continuation of the route.

It is midafternoon. But the tall redwoods along each side of the road block out the sun so completely that is appears to be dark most of the time, except when streaks of sunlight glimmer through openings in the thick woods.

Suddenly, Route 128 does end, and I hear my first "wow" from the back seat. We're back on the coastal highway, Route 1, where the western edge of the continental United States ends with a dramatic drop into the Pacific.

The coast between here and Mendocino seems wilder than its cousin to the south. For miles there is nothing but dramatic views on one side and rolling hills with pastures or pear and apple orchards on the other. Occasionally you turn a corner to see a lovely low-rise inn or restaurant snuggled at the top of a cliff overlooking beaches pounded by ocean surf. At several points along the way, rivers and streams provide a warm place to swim where they flow into the colder Pacific.

If the town of Mendocino had been built by Disney, many travelers would condemn it as fake, too pretty to be real. But in fact the gingerbread Victorians and Cape Cod-style homes are authentic, built in the 1800s by Maine loggers and fishermen who settled the area.

The town, constructed on a headland that juts deep into the ocean below, is surrounded on three sides by water. Flowers bloom in profusion in every spare bit of dirt. I barely recognize some of the species I have in my own back yard, because growing in this moist seaside air, they get so huge. The spires of New England-style churches rise above the two-story homes to help create the feeling of the perfect small American town.

When the producers of "Murder, She Wrote" went looking for the quintessential village to represent Cabots Cove, Maine, they ended up in Mendocino. The television show was taped here between 1984 and 1989.

Mendocino got its start as a movie prop early, when producers began filming silent pictures here in 1904. A coffee-table book in the inn where I settle profiles the many dozens of movies filmed here. Perhaps the most improbable: "Island of the Blue Dolphins" (1964), which takes place in a tropical dreamland.

Although rising housing prices have forced out many of the artists who reclaimed the town from obscurity in the late 1950s, an astounding arts scene remains. Mendocino, with a population of 824, has at least a dozen studios, with as many as 14 artists working and selling their art from each studio.

The rural county also has two theater companies, a full production opera company, three musical theater groups, two symphony orchestras, a classical ballet company and Native American cultural performing groups. We happen to hit town during one of a number of special events -- the 10-day annual music festival, with top-ranked performances plus seminars and classes in music and art.

It is America at its very best, and most beautiful. It's my new Big Sur. For more information, see the Details box on Page P7.