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Bill Bikes My bicycling expeditions and jaunts |
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Black Point, November 2019
Edge of Civilization: A Photographic Log
13 November, 15 miles
Marin County might be the wealthiest in California, but you wouldn't know it from this odd little pocket east of Novato.After riding nearby last week, I consulted a map to double-check my route. It didn't take long to notice this hidden—practically remote—area along the Petaluma River and the northwest shore of the Bay. The tangle of narrow roads and access to paths through the wetlands made it look like territory that required exploration on two wheels.
In fact, it turned out to be something of a surprise. After cruising down Atherton Avenue and under busy Highway 37, I came to a fancy golf club. Beyond that, the area was nothing like I expected. Instead of being flat, a couple of steep hills guarded access to the river and the Bay. Instead of gated communities along wide suburban boulevards, many of the streets turned out to be dirt or gravel, and the paved ones were crumbling. Instead of ritzy estates at the end of long driveways, many of the homes looked like they had been built in the 1930s with no maintenance since then. Instead of manicured lawns and gardens, the houses were surrounded by filthy junked cars and boats that no longer float. Despite a few pleasant suburban homes, this area in no way resembled the usual landscape of Marin County.
The poverty-stricken appearance of this corner of the county aside, the hilly lanes and gravel roads led to interesting (and sometimes tricky) riding on narrow levees separating sloughs and sunken marshlands along the edge of the Bay and Petaluma River.
The annual Renasissance Faire, staged hereabouts, departed many years ago, replaced by a fancy golf club: StoneTree. Nice of them to borrow my name.
Beyond here, the neighborhood deteriorated quite a bit.
I wandered around and eventually got into the wetlands where I pedaled on bumpy, narrow levees separating sunken marshes. No footprints or bicycle tracks. Had to pay close attention to my driving.
The levee paths finally dumped the Ogre and me back onto a gravel road in the area known as Day Island. By comparison, this felt like an Interstate highway.
The gravel road took me over a little hill, through some trees, and back toward the wetlands. I passed only one house—more like a shack—where it looked like someone lives off the grid. I decided not to take a photo, for fear the resident might appear with a shotgun.
I stopped a little farther down the gravel road and snapped a picture of a pond through the trees.
Just beyond this point, someone had blocked the road with tree branches, but that never stops the Ogre.
The gravel road ended at this sign, and I was back on narrow levees among the marshes, constantly brushing against weeds and reeds and bushes.
Looking across wetlands toward the Bay.
Another view from a levee.
The path—more like an animal track—kept leading me away from the direction I wanted. I had to turn back and retrace my steps in order to pedal toward Petaluma Point.
Another fork of another gravel road ended at a cluster of broken-down outbuildings and a home hidden behind trees and brush.
This is Petaluma Point, where the Petaluma River slides into the Bay.
It almost seemed like I was in a remote bayou near the mouth of the Mississippi. I reckon some Cajuns must have set this old bench by the end of the road for admiring the river.
Marker by the bench at the end of the gravel road.
Preferring to avoid imprisonment, I didn't disturb it.
I wanted not to turn around and retrace my ride if I could avoid it. I aimed to pedal toward the Highway 37 bridge—visible in the distance—over the river.
My map wasn't clear about the double-track on this levee, but I might be able to get all the way through to the dirt road on the far side.
Towering into haze.
Along the levee path I spotted piles of rusted industrial and agricultural machinery.
Beyond the wetlands and across the river, that's Sonoma County on the far shore.
Tolay Lake Regional Park hides slightly off to the left of the big hill.
I wanted to explore the old swinging railroad bridge, but this was about as close as I could get.
I'm not sure how reliable he was, but the guy hanging out by his dusty junker in the dirt street in front of his house insisted trains still cross the bridge every day.
This penthouse atop the railroad bridge might have been the fanciest residence in the neighborhood.
Local artwork.
Ah, look who I found!
A forlorn dock juts into the Petaluma River.
From what I could see, it looked like it would collapse under the first footstep.
Here's the Ogre (and remnants of lunch) under busy Highway 37 where it crosses the river.
The Ogre asserted it did not want to be launched at Black Point, so we turned around after lunch and began working our way back toward Novato.
But still more to explore next time in this odd little corner of Marin County.
Summary
Date: 13 November 2019
Time: 10:30 - 1:00
Weather: 60 - 70° F, haze
Route: Black Point, Day Island, and environs
Distance: 15 miles
Bike: Ogre
Riders: Solo
Comments? Questions? Suggestions? I'd like to hear from you.
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