Tam and Loki (Day 2)

Simple food breakfast. Meat and salad. Nuts and shaved coconut. Chocolate and raisins and coffee. Ecstasy before overload.

We planned two hikes as a compromise. First, back around the lagoon to Stinson and a busy Tamalpais trail that wound over terrifying poison oak scrub land, back into a hidden hollow. Green moss covering the bay laurel, dozens of fern species, and redwood. Life springing from life, from death. Trees growing on trees. Trees growing from trees. Where a massive redwood was cut off, a second had sprung up, equally as impressive. Blue rocks under rushing water not unlike Bear Mine Trail, years ago. A heavy climb, rock steps and polished black roots. Cold breeze at the ranger station and acorn woodpeckers. Down the trail was much easier, much colder.

We then got lunch in town at a counter service joint. We modeled salads for all the out of towners. My fish, yes, was good, and, no, not over cooked.

That evening, we drove down Mesa road. Steel antennas, head standing, high in the air like frost giants. Coast guard land. The pavement ended and we hit rut after rut on a gravel road. Finally a parking lot near the Palomiran Trail head.

The trail opened into a eucalyptus engineered hall, peeling bark columns, crisp brown carpet.

We walked on the edge of the sea cliffs hundreds of feet up and stopped frequently to watch the bull kelp peeking heads out of the water, far offshore, and nearer at the white-crowned sparrows fearless and full of song.

Dusk began to come down and we turned back. There was a grey fox sitting back under a pine bough in the growing shade. Susan spotted it and stopped suddenly. I watched it through my binoculars. I half expected it to open it’s mouth and talk to us.

There were stories of Norse gods before bed.