Bodega Bay, CA

After spending time recovering from COVID, flying back east for some doctor’s appointments, and then returning to Sacramento, I found the batteries in the van completely drained at the airport. Not exactly the welcome back I was hoping for. I ended up spending three really good days with friends north of San Francisco, which helped reset things a bit.

So after a month of mishaps, illness, travel, and reconnecting with an old friend, I’m finally back to the journey.

I left San Rafael this morning with a short list—groceries and gas. The plan was simple: head out to the coast, spend a couple of hours at the Bodega Head Trail, and move on. That didn’t happen. I ended up spending the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon there. Every picnic table on the trail had a message, and one struck me because it reminded me of my friend that I had just spent three days with, “Laugh often, be kind”.

The Bodega Head Trail

This trail has a lot going for it. It runs along a coastal bluff overlooking the Pacific, with a rugged shoreline below—dark rock formations pushing out into the water and waves breaking around them. There’s also a small sandy beach tucked below that’s easy to reach, which adds a different feel to the place.

The trail itself is just under two miles and loops around the headland, so the views are constantly changing. This time of year, the air is filled with the scent of wildflowers. It’s not overwhelming, but it’s always there in the background.

It had been raining in San Rafael, but the weather started to shift as I moved north. By the time I reached the coast, the clouds had started to break up into these soft, textured layers—good light, good contrast, the kind of sky that actually makes you stop.

While I was photographing a field of flowers on one of the ridges, with those clouds building in the distance, a man walking by said, “Only photographers appreciate those clouds.” His accent sounded familiar. A little while later, he and his wife passed again and stopped to talk. Beatrice and Bruno, from Switzerland. We chatted for a bit about Switzerland and traveling. It’s one of those quick trail conversations that sticks with you. I’d like to get back there someday.

I spent a lot of time just sitting along the cliffs, working the scene below—trying to get long exposures of the water moving through the rocks. It’s a good place for that. The structure is there, you just have to wait for the right movement in the water.

The loop took me around to the south side, where there were even more flowers. A light breeze was moving through the grass, and every stretch of trail seemed to offer something slightly different. I found myself stopping every fifty feet to take another shot.

There’s something about the yellow California poppy—the state flower—that makes it appealing and frustrating at the same time. They look great in person, but they’re delicate and constantly moving. Getting a clean, sharp image is harder than it seems.

As I worked my way back toward the coast, the trail climbed slightly. A helicopter came in low, circled a few times, and then landed in the field behind my van. My first thought was that someone important was getting picked up. Then I noticed two guys walking toward it from the trail.

Right about then, a long, thin garter snake cut across the trail in front of me and disappeared into the brush before I could even think about getting the camera on it. The ground cover was too thick anyway. I walked again to the cliffs and grabbed more photos.

Back near the van, it became clear what was going on. Several people in what looked like military or tactical gear were gathering around the helicopter. It turned out to be a sheriff’s department training exercise. They were running a series of drills—lifting small teams on a rope, flying them out, and dropping them at another location nearby. A small crowd had gathered to watch, and they repeated the sequence a few times.

For dinner, I had a premade salad from Sprouts and then headed back out with the camera to try and photograph the pelicans flying along the cliffs. That didn’t go well.

This area is probably one of the better spots for bird activity—Western gulls, brown pelicans, and cormorants—but the conditions weren’t working. The wind had picked up, and the fog was starting to move in. There weren’t many birds in the air, and the gusts were strong enough that even holding the camera steady was a challenge. Anything sitting on the rocks was hard to shoot cleanly.

I ended up pulling into the “Equestrian Parking” area for the night. From what I understand, this is where they direct people when the nearby campgrounds are full. It’s a large open lot—probably room for thirty to forty vehicles—and I had it completely to myself. There was even a porta-potty at the far end, which is always a bonus.

It sits just off the road leading up to the trail, but traffic was minimal. I only heard a handful of cars pass through the night.

I took my time working through the images from the day and eventually fell asleep around 10 PM.