This is my cousin Tom’s idea of a vacation:

He takes a bus across the Golden Gate Bridge to Rodeo Beach. He’s wearing hiking boots, jeans, and a windbreaker. He carries a small backpack, volume of John Muir inside. And a sandwich. He hikes up the Coastal trail to Wolf Ridge, bundled against the morning fog, then down to Tennessee beach. Seagulls caw and whirl. Sandwich, book, nap on the beach to the sound of crashing waves on California’s north coast. Stretches, shakes the sand out of his hair, hikes over the ridge to Pirate’s Cove, then down to Muir Beach. Checks into the Pelican Inn. Has a cold Lagunitas Lager and reads a few pages of Muir, soaking in the clawfoot tub. Down to dinner, then a nightcap with locals. Really, Jerry Garcia used to play here? And you filled in on harmonica? Nip of night air and impossible stars before turning in. And that’s just day one. There are three more days until Olema.

A carbon-free vacation sounds pretty good, don’t it? He’s got tips, trail maps, and community here.

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