To the Lighthouse
The morning was overcast as we pedaled up the west shore of Tomales Bay, but we found the sunshine as we wrapped around Drakes Estero and turned back south toward Drakes Beach. Ryan, who had rejoined us at China Camp, had been photographing California gulls while waiting for us to arrive. We wondered if they were from Mono Lake, where three-quarters of that species found in this state are born. These birds had perhaps chosen the most direct migratory route, following the 38th parallel, as we had, to reach the ocean.

We inflated our two-person kayak and changed into wetsuits and life jackets. The bright yellow boat, our “rubber ducky,” had to carry us for 2.3 miles across Drakes Bay.

We were novices at launching through waves. Three aborted tries sent us tumbling about on the beach, but finally we made a successful launch. About halfway to the fish dock at Chimney Rock, we heard the wonderfully mysterious calls of loons and then saw several of them dive and surface, calling repeatedly. Then from the beach came the deep, resonant, vibrating “chonk” of elephant seals.

Ryan met us at the fish dock and we loaded gear into the car. Then we finished our trek across California by walking across Point Reyes to the lighthouse, where our San Anselmo hosts were waiting at the parking lot with food, champagne, and several other friends. Together we went out to the lighthouse overlook (37º59'44"N, 123º01'23"W).

The picnic food was spread out and champagne was poured. We took turns proposing toasts and speaking about the trip, with breaks to watch whales blowing offshore. “What most impressed me,” Janet said, “is how kind and how supportive all the people along the way were in meeting with us and giving us their time and sharing their passion and really being passionate. It was very hopeful and inspiring.”

The most striking lessons about California water came gradually as our journey connected the watershed from the Sierra crest to the sea. Positive feelings built as we were shown each restoration effort and the dedication of so many good people pursuing meaningful environmental goals. That does not mean we can forget the state’s many water problems. Yet, to pull a concept from the presidential campaign under way that September, we emerged with audacious hope.

How vast the distance across the state became when walked at two miles per hour, sailed at four miles per hour, and bicycled, at times, up steep hills at a “speed” easily exceeded by a cruising butterfly. In 17 days we had traveled 350 miles, 75 of them on foot, 168 on bicycles, and 107 on boats. (A direct line from start to finish would have been 220 miles.) Crossing the state slowly, with time to look at things closely and experience them directly, provided new lessons for the two of us, who were born in the state, have worked and lived in many of its regions, and always cared about this special place on Earth called California.

At the overlook, an elderly couple who had been coming there for more than 30 years said that day had the best weather conditions they had ever seen at that spot. Janet and I stared at the ocean, trying to grasp the fact that we had finished. Off to the southwest, the profiles of the Farallon Islands were visible. Over the horizon, far to the west, the 38º latitude was heading toward another landfall, in Japan.

David and Janet Carle worked as park rangers at the Mono Lake Tufa State Reserve for over 20 years and still live north of the lake since their retirement from the State park service. Their on-going exploration of the 38th parallel will take them around the world and will become a book to be published by the University of California Press. David is the author of ten books, including four in the UC Press Natural History Guide series, about water, air, fire, and earth in California. Follow their journey at http://paralleluniverse38n.blogspot.com.