The stunning stretch, down Highway 1 from San Francisco in Marin County, is a small hippie beach community that has a posh side to it. A friend and her family were renting a house for a few weeks and generously invited us to come, that day I happened to have 2 extra boys in tow. I thought it would be too much but she said “Bring it on”. Although stunning, the water at Stinson is cold and the last time I was there we had to run from the water because of a shark sighting. Often it is too foggy or blustery, but on this spectacular August day, the stars had aligned. We brought the signature bagels and schmears and descended on the fabulous house. It turned out another mom was there with her two kids, as well as some neighbor kids, so there were about 10 kids in all ranging from aged 5-13.  We tucked into a yummy spread and then let the kids loose on the beach. Some had wet suits but the water was just borderline, warm enough to be enticing, but definitely chilly. The waves were perfect, the beach practically empty. The boys (the crew was mostly boys) decided to have a battle of the holes; who could dig the deepest and best hole. I sat in an Adirondack chair and had an intense conversation with another mom who I had just met. The kids would periodically return to the compound for sustenance and a warm up in the Jacuzzi; it all felt very Kennedy-like, but with a California twist. At one point I looked at my friend, who had invited me and said we have to go boogie boarding. She and I had taken a trip to Costa Rica a few years ago, ostensibly for my 40th birthday, along with ten other moms, to do yoga and learn how to surf. She and I had been partnered up and dubbed ourselves the wonder twins and would bump knuckles if we had a good ride or to pump ourselves up. Surfing was great fun, a challenge met and something I’d love to do again, but truth be told I get the same exhilarating feeling from boogie boarding with much less hassle.  This day at Stinson was glorious… it took a while to adjust to the water, but once ensconced it was pure joy. It sounds cheesy, but I felt like I was 15 again; there is nothing like catching a wave at the right point and gliding all the way to shore. I think my boys were impressed. Chilled to the bone, I didn’t want it to end, but we needed to get back to the city, drive the windy Highway 1 before dark.  We said our thank-yous and good-byes and on our way out of town stopped for ice cream at Odyssey Video; pretty much the only ice cream shop in town. The boys all fell asleep; a good fatigue as we made our way back across the Golden Gate.

Last week I was invited to a friend’s rental house in Inverness in Marin County, on Tomales Bay, surrounded by Point Reyes National Seashore, with my five-year-old. We left the house at 7 a.m. to maximize our visit, stopped at House of Bagels (the best bagels in SF) and bought loads of yummy stuff and headed over the bridge.  The sun was shining and I was so looking forward to spending quality time with my friend and her family.

Inverness is a small village named after the Scottish town and there is so much to recommend it. Views in every direction, swimming in Tomales Bay (we couldn’t this year because jelly fish invaded the small beach we usually go to), lovely shops nearby in Inverness and Point Reyes Station, killer fresh oysters, hiking, biking, birdwatching, mushroom hunting and so much more.

My friend’s husband is an avid unicyclist and loves to hit the local trails. It helps that the house they rent is just stellar, exactly the kind of place I dream of owning, even down to the sauna built overlooking Tomales Bay. We lit a fire, toasted with champagne and ate some local Cowgirl Creamery cheese and fig tapenade as the sun went down and then tucked into a yummy meal with a homemade fruit cobbler for dessert. This is why I live in the Bay Area…it was so hard to leave the next morning.

Nestled in Tam Valley, a part of Mill Valley, this spot is easily accessible by San Franciscans and Marinites alike. Over the years we have taken hard core hikes with friends, leisurely walks with visitors from out of town and quickie visits to get fresh air and bask in the beautiful scenery. If I were a visitor from abroad or out of town, this would be a great day trip to get a flavor of the tremendous wealth of the Bay Area hiking scene. I was there twice in April. Once with my two boys for a free, annual Easter egg hunt at the Horse Stables adjacent to the trail, and once with my close friend as a birthday treat. We took a 4 mile hike to the Pelican Inn, on the Coastal Trail, and had a scrumptious lunch at the pub and then a less strenuous 3 mile hike back; all in all a perfect day.

Years ago we used to meet friends at the Dipsea Café, right where the road to Tennessee Valley turns off Shoreline Highway. We would eat a big breakfast and then hike; always a good option after the trail too! Depending on the season the flora and fauna are stupendous…deer, lizards, the occasional mountain lion, all sorts of birds, butterflies and wildflowers that never fail to please.

With the slower lot, kids, grandparents, non-hikers, the flat-ish route to the beach is perfect. You can picnic on the beach and still feel like you got a good walk in. My 71-year-old mom, who does a lot of city walking in New York, felt it was a tad strenuous, but once completed she raved! There are plenty of the more rigorous routes along the coast and towards the Headlands. If you forget to pack a picnic there is often a farm produce stand open just as you turn onto the road. The parking lot can be crowded!

For years my wife and I have talked about spending a night or two in a local hostel, but until this weekend we didn’t find the time to do so. But a pre-New Year’s hike in the Marin Headlands just north of San Francisco, where we live, took Paula into the hostel to see what was available and voila, we were booked for two nights in early January.

At this time of year—winter in Northern California—we could be subjected to dense fog, lashing rain, heavy winds, temperatures in the 40s. I know, this would be positively balmy by the standard of much of the U.S. in winter, but friends from Calgary, Alberta who’ve lived in San Francisco for many years told us when they returned from their annual holiday visit home, “No matter what the temperature is in Calgary, it always feels colder here.”

I grew up in Minnesota and won’t get into that discussion. But whatever the weather, we figured a cold, wet hike would be rewarded with cozy conviviality, hot chocolate, and family board games in our hostel home.

It turned out we had perhaps the mildest weekend in months. A nearly full moon basked in the setting sun over Alcatraz as I cycled across the Golden Gate Bridge to the hostel, a ride that would have taken about an hour and ten minutes if I hadn’t stopped repeatedly to take photos. Paula and the girls had driven ahead with our three other bikes and I arrived at dusk, coasting the last mile downhill through the deepening chill, listening for owls as the wind rushed past my ears.

We knew the hostel would be close to full but we didn’t know it would be taken over by a convention of kayakers. The inaugural Golden Gate Sea Kayak Symposium was under way, with dozens of kayakers from across the country converging on the hostel to train in the challenging surf outside the Golden Gate. They were looking for rough seas and stormy weather, but what they got was, well, California Dreamin’.

They nonetheless got plenty of training in and they were welcoming to those of us who had nothing to do with the meeting. In fact, on Saturday night after a cycle to the beach and a long hike in the hills, we got to watch some extraordinary videos of kayaking in Alaska, and participated in a raffle to benefit the nearby Marine Mammal Center. There were so many donated prizes, all related to kayaking or the outdoors, that almost everyone who bought a ticket won a prize, even us, who picked up a windup flashlight/radio/charger that never needs batteries. It was worth the $10 donation! Plus, our girls got to be part of the show and pick all the winning tickets out of a saucepan.

The next morning we joined a guided bird-watching tour around the lagoon led by Jane Haley, and added quite a few new birds to our life lists. It was a fine way to wrap up a travel experience that required just a 15 minute drive or a little more than an hour by bicycle. Truly a close-to-home experience that felt like a long escape.

When we got home our eight-year-old Érne said, “The next time we go to the hostel can we stay for a whole week? We can go when school’s out.”

“What would we do for a whole week,” Paula asked.

Érne thought barely an instant before replying, “Have fun!”

Which is true. I’m sure we could fill several days with fun even that close to home.