If you know the Pacific Coast Highway, particularly the areas around Tomales Point, Point Reyes, or Dillon Beach, you would have likely passed through the bitty town of Tomales, California. Usually, I prefer to gate-keep my local favorites but because I have friends who rely on the business of outsiders, I’ll make an exception.  

The Pacific Coast has a very special place in my heart. Growing up just 20 minutes away from crashing waves, salty wind, and sandy beaches, my family spent a great deal of time in the surrounding coastal towns. Once my friends and I were able to drive, we’d spend our weekends joyriding, causing mischief, parking at Bodega Head where we would sit and gaze out at the vast expanse of water that stretched far beyond our younger selves. It was a humbling experience, realizing the enormity of the world around us and our tiny place within it. 

Sometimes, I wish I could go back and be 16 again. But then, I remember what it was really like to be 16… pass.

20 Miles south of Bodega Bay is West Marin’s version of the Pacific Coast. Just 10 miles inland you’ll find the town of Tomales. Tomales was a drive through town for me or a snack stop on the way to Dillon Beach. Memorable, but so tiny. No gas station, just a general store, post office and a church. Today, the town has developed more with a restaurant, bakery, deli and an art gallery but still – tiny. 

Historically, the area is best known for diary farms, potato farms, oyster harvesting and the notorious Synanon rehabilitative facility at Marconi (now a conference center and lodge) which ultimately morphed into a cult.

Before the Europeans, this land was home to the Coast Miwok people. Once the settlers deprived the scattered tribes of their land, the Smiths of Bodega Bay, known as one of the last Coast Miwok families, were able to adapt to the christianization and thrive. You can find a ton of information on the Smith family and their impact in Tomales Bay here.

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It wasn’t until I met my husband when I truly found my love for the town and community. My husband has spent a large portion of his adult life living and working in the majority of Tomales Bay. If you know him, you know how proud he is to be a part of that community. 

Our relationship began there; I moved into his barn style home on acres of pure, untouched land. Captain had full run of the property, running with the other critters in the hills, climbing the gigantic rocks, getting skunked and collecting ticks. He loved it. 

We got married in Tomales, under the most beautiful Buckeye tree, joined by both our families in arguably the most beautiful and peaceful part of the world. Tomales is extraordinary with a very interesting history. 

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On one of the few clear and sunny days this month, my husband and I spent the day frolicking with the Highland cattle; another tourist attraction in West Marin. Heading south on Highway 1, leaving Tomales, is a herd of Highland cattle. Highland cows are a Scottish breed with long horns and shaggy coats which makes for a great Instagram photo. You’ll likely see these cows on t-shirts at Tractor Supply or on a canvas from Ross… very generically used but, I get it, they’re damn cute. 

Fortunately for us, my husband knows the property owner and he allowed us to hike the rolling hills with the fluffy cows. 

During our trek, we found ample photo opportunities. The grass was the brightest shade of green and the sky as blue as could be. The wind was intense, although the valley shielded us from its force for the most part but I still lost my hat at one point. 

The best part about this property was following what was left of the North Pacific Coast Railroad. Forever ago, starting in 1874, the NPC railroad stretched 93 miles from Sausalito to Cazadero hauling lumber, dairy products, agricultural equipment and supplies, and passengers through Sonoma and Marin counties. Naively, I had no idea about the significance of this railroad but of course, my husband being the smartest person I know, made sure to tell me; more than once. 

I’d often heard about the train tunnel that led through the Highland cattle property, along Keys Creek, but it isn’t visible from the Highway. Nonetheless, we were given the opportunity to access it. Not far into our hike at all, we heard a small waterfall and came up to what was left of a hole in the Earth. The remainder of the wood structure showed the age and history. It had been raining and the echoed sound of water drops made for a spooky discovery. The energy was definitely weird. Maybe I was tired; out of breath but it felt… tense. 

Pieces of the railroad can be seen by the public alongside Highway 1 in the Keys Estuary, where you can see metal bridge posts sticking out of the water. What’s left of the rail runs along various parts of the coastline, I highly recommend making it into a railroad scavenger hunt. 

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Circa 1910 – photo by Ella Jorgensen

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On this new photography journey of mine, I am especially thankful to have grown up and live in the area that I do with its vast history. As I mentioned in my last post, I am often left frustrated by the new developments in my hometown; the changes that are pushing true locals out. However, not everyone has the ability to drive under 30 minutes to a place that takes you away from whatever it is you’re escaping from. This truly humbles me to my core. 

I can’t begin to fathom the amount of times I felt completely defeated in my life. To a fault, I run from what hurts and hide until I’m able to take a steady breath. Without fail, I run to the coast or drive the same backroads I used to foolishly drive on with my friends. The place I find the most peace, with the clearest breath and clearer mind.

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If you’re local to Marin or Sonoma County, I highly recommend seeing our friends in town at the Tomales General Store or our four-legged, shaggy cow friends on Highway 1.

These are some of the shots I took on our little hike. Thank you to the cows for being such great models!