It’s a springtime tradition — road trips are on the menu

A California kid, born and bred, knows there’s only one thing to do when the winds of March blow the last bits of winter away: Head out the door. The spring road trip is one of the traditions of this part of the world.

I think restlessness is in the California DNA. Unless you are a Native American, you or your ancestors came from somewhere else. So when the grass is green here, it’s always greener elsewhere.

In my misguided youth, we were always ready to go: up to the mountains to see the snow; down the San Joaquin Valley to head to Yosemite; to Stinson to sit on the beach. Sometimes we’d just go: I remember one springtime Saturday afternoon: “Hey,” one my pals said, “I hear they have great hamburgers in Santa Cruz.” This was California. One of us always had a car.

Over the years, our tastes grew more refined. On one day, the Sailor Girl, my companion in later adventures, and I flew to see springtime in Paris. Another spring, we took a ship from San Francisco to Australia, where it was autumn, stopping in Hawaii and Samoa on the way. Samoa! It sure beat Santa Cruz.

Then came the virus. We had to stay home. As the restrictions ebbed, we tried smaller adventures: Marin, the Sonoma coast, once almost to Los AngeRoss les.

At the heart of all these road trips is discovery. And gradually, we discovered a wealth of what I think is regional food, all within the range of short road trips.

We’re not talking about California cuisine, the stronghold of food purists. Chez Panisse is too refined for our tastes. We couldn’t get into the French Laundry in the Napa Valley, though we did drop off some shirts at the Glen Park laundry. We skip fast food and keep an eye out for something local and maybe different. We’re ordinary Californians: Are the sand dabs fresh today?

But ordinary food in this part of the world is pretty extraordinary. We made a couple of spring trips, none of them more than three hours from San Francisco.

We started by heading north, ending up with dinner at sunset at the wonderfully named River’s End restaurant in Jenner. It’s one of those rare places where the food matches the view.

For lunch, we usually try the Lucas Wharf in Bodega Bay, where the Sailor Girl always votes for a crab sandwich. There are always a couple of sea lions out the window, climbing up on the docks, arguing and barking.

Arguing and barking always reminds us of the city, and that’s why we head out. Sometimes it’s a short trip — over the Golden Gate, through the Valley and then west over White’s Hill into West Marin.

We head past Olema, past Point Reyes Station, north on the winding Highway 1 through places that once were railroad whistle-stops: Bivalve, Millerton, Marconi. We always finagle a way to stop at the Marshall Store and eat outside with the wind in our faces. Oysters are the specialty here, but also fish stew and other good stuff.

Tony’s Seafood Restaurant is just down the road. This used to be a noted local hangout, operated by a family of Croatian fishermen. It’s said they settled on Tomales Bay because the country reminded them of their home on the Adriatic. I don’t know about that, but the town of Marshall reminds me of the small coastal California places I remembered as a kid, with its cattle ranches, fishing boats and roadside restaurants where a tourist was a guy from Santa Rosa.

Tony’s has been upgraded, and now it’s in the Michelin Guide. The food is local and delicious. The word is out. You need a reservation most days.

We headed south, too, in search of something a bit different. Monterey is always a favorite, but we skipped it this time in favor of Carmel and the coast just beyond. We spent some time near Point Lobos watching the waves roll in.

A road trip has to be practical, so we tried several restaurants, all of them with artichokes on the menu. Another little regional surprise when you think about it since Castroville, a farming town not far away, bills itself as the artichoke capital of the world.

There are all kinds of foods in Carmel — French, Italian, Mexican and the Hog’s Breath Inn on San Carlos Street, once owned by Clint Eastwood. It’s an American place with steaks, Salinas Valley greens, calamari, fish tacos and beef sliders. One specialty is a Dirty Harry Burger.

People travel all over the world for famous regional food of Europe and Asia. But to our taste, we’ve tried our own everyday fare: crab from the Sonoma coast, Marin cheese and butter, oysters from Tomales Bay, fish tacos from Monterey Bay, and for an appetizer, some Castroville artichokes. The sourdough bread was pretty good, too.

Not a bad discovery for a springtime road trip.

Carl Nolte / The Chronicle Patrons eat with the wind in their faces at Marin County’s Marshall Store, where oysters are the specialty.