Wild grandeur
The perfect day trip to Bay Area’s Marin Headlands, from hikes and art shows to sea lions and toddies
SAN JOSE, Calif. — The Marin Headlands are a special place. They’re across the Golden Gate Bridge but feel like a wild frontier. Cell service drops to zero, wildlife moseys in the road, and if you gaze over the Pacific Ocean you can almost glimpse Japan (if you squint and pretend).
We start our day at the Headlands Center for the Arts at historic Fort Barry. Back in the 1980s, artists restored these old military barracks using plenty of creative liberty.
The center is an active arts destination, attracting rotating waves of artists-in-residence from all over. But it feels ancient and, in some corners, abandoned, with rust and peeling paint and cavernous hallways that whistle when the wind blows.
At the entrance, a staffer offers us coffee from the lovingly redone mess hall. She notes the premises might be haunted: “If you are open to the ghosts, you will discover them. If you’re not, you won’t.”
Walls bear prints of animal bones and snakes from the University of California, Berkeley, collection.
Last winter, the gym was transformed into a massive beehive, complete with the sounds of buzzing, fragrant beeswax blocking the windows and a video of a man whose face is being covered by bees.
That exhibit’s gone, but others lie ahead. There’s even an exhibit — The Latrine — in the art center’s restrooms. Metal toilet stalls curl as if following the Fibonacci sequence, and urinals pose poetic statements for viewers.
The grounds of the fort are worth exploring with one of the hiking guides designed by the center’s artists. These are useful not so much in getting you from Point A to Point B, but in offering a window into the thought processes of a creative. One map offers personal recollections of the area, like “raccoon used a tool here” and “eviscerated pelican carcass from an otter kill.” Another chronicles a jaunt to nearby Rodeo Beach, where the artist saw “anemones, some as big as saucers,” making her wonder if it will be the “most unspectacular beings that will outlast all else.”
One guide highlights an “ailing sea lion” that was found on the beach and rescued by the Marine Mammal Center, so that is where we go next. It happens to be Marine Science Sunday, and the place is packed with kids.
The center is the world’s largest marine mammal hospital, taking in sick, injured and stranded patients rescued from some 600 miles of California and Hawaii coastline. It’s loved locally for its free educational tours and classes. Most of the children raise their hands when asked if they’ve been here before, and none seem tired of it, popping questions left and right.
Does a walrus hunt with its tusks? “No, they’re for getting onto the ice.”
How do you recognize a gray whale? “Their ‘blow’ is in the shape of a heart, because of their nostril shapes.”
What’s it called when a seal bounces on its belly? “The term is ‘galumphing.’ It’s from a Lewis Carroll poem.” (That would be “Jabberwocky.”)
We take a tour. There’s a tooth from a sea lion, cut like a tree trunk to show rings of age, and an X-ray from a California sea lion that ate a fishing hook.
We check out the postmortem lab, where scientists study the causes of death for marine animals, which range from disease to ship strikes. Then it’s off to the pinniped pens, where we keep our voices low so as to not disturb the animals in the open-air tanks.
The pens are often used as recovery areas for sea lions, seals and Southern sea otters. The circumstances that lead these creatures here vary, but invariably are tragic. Sometimes it’s the harsh natural world: Oslo, an elephant seal pup rescued this June in Santa Cruz, had fish spines stuck in its face and eyes that the center’s veterinary team removed. And sometimes it’s us humans. An educational display shows Lucinda, a harbor seal pup that was “found with fishing gear dangling from her tiny body. The most heartbreaking part was that Lucinda’s mouth was tugged at each time she moved her front flipper due to the hooks and fishing line that connected them.”
There’s a chance you might spot the huge animals blowing “hearts” on their migration along the California coast, if you venture out on the Tennessee Point Trail, which overlooks the mighty Pacific.
The trail sits atop a conjunction of tectonic plates and, like most of the land here, is always rising, falling, eroding and weakening. It’s shaken by earthquakes and the pounding of waves. There are old concrete structures to explore, which have a churchlike feel thanks to the bell of a buoy ringing distantly in the water.
Walk for just under a mile, and you will find your reward: the Tennessee Point Labyrinth. This labyrinth is situated on a prominence with three sides dropping sharply into the foaming
abyss.
We walk the stone-marked labyrinth, taking breaks to observe seabirds and the distant outlines of the Farallon Islands. Maybe we did it wrong, but there was no sudden revelation or shift of mindset when we reached the center. Instead, there was a cache of seashells, dead roses and .50-caliber shell casings — and a rock upon which someone had scrawled, “No more divorce, celebrate sobriety.”
The inscription gets us thinking about where to get a drink. There are not many options in the Marin Headlands for dinner, but a good one is Farley at Cavallo Point Lodge. Situated at historic Fort Baker, with a porch offering views of military parade grounds and the Golden Gate Bridge, the restaurant excels in modern California cooking with farm-to-fork flair.
There are candles, real fireplaces and whiskey toddies to shake away the darkening chill. Befitting Farley’s nearthe-Bay perch, chef Michael Garcia serves up seafood including poached Oishii prawns with a bloody mary cocktail sauce; blue crab cakes with dill remoulade and pickled mushrooms; and Saltspring Island mussels with smoked tomato and pancetta. Everything gets better when you pair it with the pillowy Parker House rolls.
We order a squash soup with sunflower seeds and chile-oil drizzle and an ahi burger that’s rare and meltingly soft, with green olive tapenade and pickled red onions. The truffle fries are perfectly crisp and the mixedgreen salad tangy and loaded with body-affirming nutrients. It’s a light but decadent meal — satisfying, but not so heavy that we have to galumph it over the bridge back home.