day 22 -- san francisco to manchester beach

but it was onto the great northwest. the california coast was required reading, and I spent all day winding winding winding along the low cliffs of marin and sonoma. since I'd waited around for the street food festival to get underway I was riding in a swamp of saturday daytrippers on the approach and across the golden gate bridge, but past marin and the shuttle parking for muir woods the traffic thinned progressively. slightly harrowing descent on an absurdly twisty road from the marin headland to the beaches, but then just moderately tedious winding stretches. striking there is the essentially-desert abutting the ocean, though this desert is covered in dry brown grass and cattle and the occasional vineyard that has escaped the valleys. scenic scenic, especially the stretch between elk and mendocino, but it seemed that I was always twisting around to get a better vantage on the coastline I'd just passed. and that's how it always is, right? what's in the rearview always looks better than what's ahead. seriously, not just in conditions that sun angles and clouds explain...but all the time. rearviews must have some fancy polarizing feature. that or what's ahead inevitably looks boring in comparison to the glimpses behind. anyway. winding winding roads sometimes disappearing over the first line of hills but in every case back to the coast and always one shelf up from bottom-of-the-cliff beaches. oysters on high tables outside a marinaside joint, then some unexpected 'texas-style' barbeque in the artsy town of gualala. I'd only made it some 150 miles on this afternoon, but curvy roads demand some focus and work on the motorcycle, so I was borderline bleary-eyed and wobbly-kneed. I had set a beach beyond ft bragg as a destination, but settled on a nicely undeveloped beach near manchester with some open campsites. breezy and chilly (I was already cold from the bike despite layers), it was perfect for the norcal coast. I wandered out to the dunes with herds of mulies, listened to crashing surf and all that, and turned in early after I'd more seriously staked down the tent. no stars that night, just cold damp breezes and a layer of dew on everything that I hadn't stored in the tent.