Where the coastline meets towering, windswept Cypress trees, there’s a particular kind of traveler’s sadness that comes with leaving one beautiful stretch of coast only to find another waiting just down the highway. The trade-off, of course, is that each new stop is also one fewer left in my Beach Era — but I’m not quite ready to think about that yet.
After a few nights at Solano Lake — which is really just Putah Creek doing its best impression of a real lake — we pointed the rig roughly 40 miles west and dropped into Sonoma wine country. What should have been a straightforward jaunt turned into a brief scenic detour courtesy of our navigation app, which apparently has opinions about roads that are, let’s say, generously one lane. We eventually found our footing tracing the Russian River west until it finally spilled us out onto the Sonoma Coast.
Wright’s Beach turned out to be one of those rare spots that earns its reputation quietly — no fanfare, just a small cluster of beachfront campsites tucked into a wind-sheltered valley that felt genuinely hidden. Three days there, and we were fully absorbed into the local rhythm.
That rhythm started with an even windier, even narrower country road from Wright’s Beach into the town of Bodega — not to be confused with Bodega Bay — and dinner at the Casino Bar. Crusty in the best possible way: taxidermy that hasn’t seen a dust cloth since the Carter administration, wallpaper straight out of 1952, and drinks that won’t let you back in the driver’s seat. The backstory is that the same family has owned this place for over a century, and local chefs rotate through on individual nights — a schedule they post on their Facebook page — bringing everything from fall-off-the-bone pork ribs to Indian Thali. It’s the kind of place that shouldn’t work as well as it does, and yet it does.
Back on the bay side of things, The Tides Wharf & Restaurant on the shores of Bodega Bay has earned a repeat visit — not for the sit-down restaurant (yet), but for their seafood market. Twice now I’ve walked out with an embarrassment of oysters and Dungeness crab, supplemented beautifully by their well-stocked pantry: ciabatta from local baker Mezzaluna Bakery and a spicy cocktail sauce that more than covered for the one we forgot to pack.
A properly earned Pliny the Elder from Russian River Brewing rounded out the Sonoma Coast food tour — and yes, oysters again, because the coast simply doesn’t let you leave without them.
From Wright’s Beach we zigged and zagged south down Highway 1, hugging the eastern edge of Tomales Bay just shy of Point Reyes, then cut inland along Sir Francis Drake Boulevard skirting the north flank of Mount Tamalpais. The route threads past the Golden Gate Bridge and straight through San Francisco before the coast opens back up — and just like that, we were rolling into Half Moon Bay for our final beach stop of the trip.
Francis Beach continues to earn its place near the top of my California list. The coastal trail is ideal for working out the kinks after long driving days, downtown is bikeable and worth every pedal, and the food scene punches above its weight for a small coastal town. And Hendrix — our four-legged co-pilot and the trip’s unofficial quality control department — has declared this particular stretch of sand his personal territory.
If Henny’s happy, we’re happy. Beach Era, it’s been a good one.
