Two strong cups coffee, hot scones, hot showers and laudromat - dried sleeping bags and suddenly things were looking up.
We moved out of the lake and over to dry ground at campsite number nine.
Driving: through sun and rain and sun and pouring rain and sun and drizzle again, to the lighthouse. Along the way we drove through flooded sections of the road, wound up and down, stopped at Sea Lion overlook, and cruised past historic ranches A through M, all settled in the 1800s.
The lighthouse is 300 steps ("...Thirty stories..." they say) down the cliffs and out on the "Point" of Point Reyes.
In the lighthouse we got to see the cool bezel glass magnifying lens, which made rainbows and color patterns, and the Austrian clockworks. A ranger gave us a talk about life here in the old days, and we saw the old steam fog horns and heard the moan of the new fog horn. The wind was cold, the sun was warm, and the rain was holding off as we climbed back up 308 steps to head over to Chimney Rock and Elephant Seal Beach.
In the parking lot it was break time for lunch of jerky, cheese, apple, and chocolate, washed down with Widmer Brothers' Hefeweizen. Sitting on the tailgate of my truck, we enjoyed great views of Drakes' Bay.
After lunch in the hot sun, we hiked to Elephant Seal Beach, only to be caught in downpour. The rain didn't seem to bother the seals at all, so we decided to just adapt and enjoy it.
Driving around during the day, it struck us just how much Point Reyes looked like Ireland.
We made a quick stop at Limantour Beach during a break in the rain. We walked in the cold cold sun, and when we couldn't stand it anymore we drove into Olema for a break at the only restaurant and bar in town. The Olema Farm House. Grabbing a corner table, we ordered hot coffee, and snuck in Gail's gingerbread cookies while we read, and I took notes. It felt so good just being dry for a while.
After leaving a good tip, we headed back just in time to sit in the truck and watch it pour down on our almost dry campsite once again. During the next break in the rain, we hustled to set up the tent.
Little did we know this would be totally unnecessary, as it never rained again the entire trip.
I started the fire, we stabbed hot dogs, and I poured a good Chianti, the all purpose drinking wine. Nothing says camping like a good, charred cancer stick for dinner! If you cannot enjoy the occasional hot dog over an open fire, then you might as well just shoot me now.
This nice kid, two sites over, was out camping for the first time alone with his friends, and they had a little trouble getting the fire going. So Denny and his friends borrowed the hatchet, and I gave them a few dry 2x4s so they could get it started.
Polite kids. Just out camping, having fun on their own. Said thank you and everything. Restores my faith in kids today.
We wasted the evening, sitting to read and drink by fire, till it was too dark to see.