Day Tripping to Bodega Head on the Sonoma Coast

Sixty-eight. Sixty-seven. Sixty-six. The countdown is under way as Bill and I drive the winding, two-lane Bodega Highway toward Bodega Head on the Sonoma Coast of California.

Bill is at the wheel. He steals frequent glances at the thermometer on the dashboard, intoning the numbers registering the decline in temperature as we near our destination. Past foothill grasslands speckled with grazing dairy cows, soaring redwoods hugging the berm, ever-rising treeless hills, and, even after we turn right by the eucalyptus grove onto Highway 1 toward the quiet harbor of Bodega Bay, the countdown continues. Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight.

This is Bill’s ritual each time we make this trip to western Sonoma County (aka West County). He chronicles how the temperature is always at least 10 degrees cooler than the starting points at our temporary outposts in Santa Rosa, Kenwood, or Glen Ellen. We place wagers, betting on the likelihood of the sky, so astonishingly blue and sunny right now, being the same once we reach the rugged, jagged cliffs of Bodega Head.

The countdown stops at 57, a full 30 degrees shy of the inland heat we left behind. Our bets are on the money, for misty fog and brisk, biting breezes are the conditions for today’s hike. No matter. Rain, fog, wind, or shine, Bodega Head is a force of nature and must be reckoned with on its own terms.

We scale the sandy path that hugs the dramatic western edge of the country, mesmerized by the wild, white-capped Pacific Ocean surging below. The climb on the dirt trail, studded with purple bush lupine, sea fig, and other scrub vegetation looking as if they’re clinging for dear life, and sweeping views are as exhilarating as ever. A lone fishing boat bobs on the water, a sober fog horn putting vessels on alert. We seek out the stark, barren rock swarming with sea lions, and barely make out the sound of their barking over the crashing surf. On our opposite side we catch glimpses of the fog as it shrouds and shifts over Bodega Bay, obscuring and revealing the land in wispy, Brigadoon-like fashion.

Other rituals define our journeys to Bodega Head, with stops we feel we must make before and afterwards for the experience to be complete. Food and wine are common denominators.

Preludes to Bodega Head

We usually head to the coast on Sundays, and the day begins with brunch. Buttermilk fried chicken with cornmeal waffles is a favorite dish on the Southern-inspired menu at funky, name-bending Rocker Oysterfeller’s Kitchen + Saloon in Valley Ford. Post-meal, we stroll through displays of local artwork at West County Design across the street.

Sometimes we opt for waffles, grilled potatoes, and bacon at the lively, train-themed Howard Station Café in Occidental, formerly the station for the North Pacific Coast narrow-gauge railroad. Even the restaurant’s current owners seem baffled as to why the building was first called Howard, proffering this adventurous explanation on a wall mural:

Dutch Bill” Howard was not Dutch, nor was his name William Howard. He was in fact, a Danish sailor named Christopher Thornassen Folkmann, born in 1823. Folkmann was serving as an able bodied seaman on the U.S. Ship St. Mary, which dropped anchor in San Francisco Bay in 1849. Unable to resist the lure of California’s recently discovered goldfields, Folkmann jumped ship, stole a small boat and headed north, somehow acquiring an unclaimed timbered plateau that was to become the site of Occidental. In the early 1870’s, when the railroad was proposed, Howard granted the railroad company a free right of way through his property. In return, he was granted a free, lifetime railroad pass (the train often stopped at his gate for him), and the railroad station was marked with a sign which read “Howard’s.”

And Howard it stays.

Sonoma County’s first historic district, the picturesque hamlet of Freestone, sits nestled in the valley at the southern end of the scenic 10-mile Bohemian Highway. I estimate the tiny town to be at best a half-mile long. The welcome sign boasts a population of  32. There’s a throwback feel to Freestone, for the few commercial enterprises occupy classic Western-style, wooden clapboard buildings.

One of them is Wild Flour Bread. The line for the bakery’s sourdough loaves, scones, biscotti, and sticky buns from its wood-fired brick oven snakes out into the sunflower-lined garden almost as soon as business opens at 8 a.m. They bake 900 loaves daily, and only sell them on site. People go out of their way to get here. Passing the time while waiting their turn, they look out at rolling hills, barns, and the occasional herd of cows.

Down the street in an 1880s redwood cottage is Freestone Artisan Cheese. It speaks local, selling handcrafted cheeses from a group of very small production cheesemakers and entrepreneurs, most within a 20-mile radius. Need that in exact miles? Look up at the chalkboard overhead for the list of suppliers’ locales and the distances from here to there. Owner Omar Mueller’s business card presses the point of his product with stacked silhouettes of a goat, sheep, cow, and water buffalo. He cheerfully and liberally hands out slices to help with decision making. One bite of the tongue-in-cheek-named holey cow, a semi-soft cheese from Central Coast Creamery with round holes reminiscent of Swiss cheese, and I make up my mind. Hot roasted nuts, olive oils from fruit grown and pressed locally, tea, and even crepes round out his offerings.

Back on Bodega Highway, we pass the former Potter School (now a private residence) and St. Teresa of Avila Roman Catholic Church, white wooden structures situated near each other on a hilltop overlooking the road. They certainly look innocent and unassuming now, but film buffs know the setting from the schoolyard scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s suspenseful and horrific “The Birds.” That thriller, with its flock of birds inexplicably attacking people with deadly results, still gives me the shivers.

Gourmet au Bay unveils new digs

But on to more pleasant thoughts. Like wine surfing® at Gourmet au Bay. This is our favorite wine bar in Sonoma County, where we traditionally unwind and refresh after hiking at Bodega Head and catch up with owners Sissy and Bob Blanchard.

The Blanchards recently relocated their wine bar from Highway 1 to Bay Flat Road, that much closer to Bodega Head and still overlooking Bodega Bay. They added a wood-fired oven where chef Sam Badolato creates scrumptious coastal cuisine. Out of the gate, their new place has become a worthy successor to the original landmark.

Using a design theme Bob calls rustic nautical, he and Sissy turned an empty shell of a building into a comfortable and inviting hangout. Their new place sports pale blue walls, wood floors repurposed from old barn silos in Washington, a concrete bar deliberately stressed to resemble wood grain, and tables crafted from old bleachers from California Memorial Stadium on the University of California campus in Berkeley.

Bob curates the wine list based on close relationships he’s fostered with select, artisan producers in the area. Sissy, the family marketer, leverages her artistic flair with the decor and savvy merchandising skills with an eclectic array of gift items. We snap up a couple of T-shirts bearing the catchy new logo.

Bill and I are partial to Gourmet au Bay’s signature feature – three tastes of wine served on a surfboard, hence the term wine surfing. We say “surf’s up” as we click glasses. We polish off our wood-fired gulf prawns with grits, chili esplette and lime butter, and a tomato/tomahhhto flat bread with fresh mozzarella curd and basil. Sissy’s at the next table meeting with a supplier, and eating a luscious-looking wood-fired peach nestled in a shallow pool of crème Anglaise and topped with chocolate drizzle. We’ll have what she’s having. Sam declares the peach is the best thing currently coming out of the oven, and who are we to argue with him.

We share some Pittsburgh roots with Sam. Bill and I lived in a northern suburb of the City of Champions (Go Steelers. Go Pens. Go Bucs.) prior to moving to Charlotte. Sam worked across the city’s three rivers, co-owning Bado’s in the Mt. Lebanon neighborhood with his brothers. Then he opened the award-winning Bado’s Cucina in Peters Township, sold it, and moved West. You know the saying – small world.

The thing about forming rituals like this when we travel on extended stays in Sonoma County is they give us a sense of familiarity, of place, of home. Come Sunday, you’ll know where to find us.