Inkwells

On September 3, 2024, I wrote that I had just spent the night at Olema campground with my twin nine year old boys. The three of us got on my electric cargo bike and went to the coffee shop for a snack before riding up Bolinas ridge on Drake Boulevard. A very large pick up made the ride suck but the rest was OK. There was construction on the roadway.

At Tocaloma we continued up the Cross Marin Trail. We rode to Samuel P Taylor’s hiker biker site number 62 and discovered there were a lot of cyclists planning on staying the night. We went to the ranger booth and paid for the site. When we got back to the site, we met some off the kids around the campground and I chatted with a neighboring camper who had an RV. He told us about the other cyclists at staying in our campsite and I realized that I probably knew them.

I took the boys to inkwells and we jumped in – I shuttled the boys across the lower pool. Later we rode to the Indian restaurant in Lagunitas and we had the chicken kebab. The boys really liked it. A whole bunch of people I knew from Bike Party and Butter Lap showed up on their bikes to eat. It slowly developed into one big party. The food was delicious. We also hit up the general store before they closed and I got the boys ice cream.

A couple of people, brother and sister, were standing in the parking lot, talking. The lady explained to us that her brother is occasionally in Point Reyes Station being colorful and expressing himself like it is a big performance. She told us that he is a cool guy – different. It was cool to find out more about the local character. She told us she’s from San Anselmo and she liked my son’s sweater. I guess her friend makes them.

I noted that the ride back to the campsite was easy. I let the boys play with the other kids while I prepared to wind down. At one point, I couldn’t find one of the boys and the other one led me on a wild goose chase looking for him. We found him nearby but not until after some parents asked us if we were ok.

The boys returned to playing and then our co-campers showed up. I hung out with them a little bit and had a beer. I was alone until late.

We got up at 8am. A neighbor offered me coffee and the boys didn’t help pack. The other campers left a bit later, but it took me until 1030 to get ready to go. One of the stragglers left just before us. I got a photo of the inkwells but skipped swimming. I decided later that I had missed an epic swim day. I took the boys to the coffee shop called Pump. I got them hot cocoa, and I got a cup of coffee for myself. The shop have this special marshmallow thing.

After that we climbed White Hill. We beat some roadies to the top and only a few motorists passed us on the climb. One was rude near the top. We did the speed limit on the way down. One of the boys held my hat. The ride through San Anselmo made good time. We met the gang in Larkspur after a few pictures we boarded.

I bought the boys sprite on the boat and after bidding everyone farewell at the terminal I got the boys soft serve ice cream. The ride up Market Street was easy and once we had unloaded the bike and I started laundry at the laundromat. The boys were a bit crabby when we got home but I took them to the taqueria where we saw one of the boys' teachers through the window of the bar next door.

 
This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.