Sonoma County Coast Information

Beach List

1. Doran Beach Regional Park
2. Campbell Cove
3. Westside Regional Park
4. Bodega Head
5. Bodega Dunes
6. South Salmon Creek Beach
7. North Salmon Creek Beach
8. Miwok Beach
9. Coleman Beach
10. Arched Rock Beach
11. Carmet Beach
12. Schoolhouse Beach
13. Portuguese Beach
14. Gleason Beach
15. Duncan's Landing
16. Wright's Beach
17. Shell Beach
18. Blind Beach
19. Goat Rock Beach
20. North Jenner Beaches
21. Russian Gulch
22. Vista Point
23. Fort Ross Reef
24. Fort Ross Cove
25.Timber Cove
26. Stillwater Cove Regional Park
27. Ocean Cove
28. Gerstle Cove
29. Stump Beach
30. Fisk Mill Cove
31. North Horseshoe Cove
32. Black Point Beach
33. Pebble Beach
34. Stengel Beach
35. Shell Beach
36. Walk-On Beach
37. Gualala Point Regional Park

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New York Times Article on Sonoma County's beaches. Very informative.

California's Other Beach Scene

• By DAVID KIRBY Published: April 18, 2004

MOST people realize that Northern and Southern California are two utterly divergent worlds that happen to fall within the same state. But I never really appreciated just how opposite these two dominions were until I took a tour of the tumultuous and wind-swept coast of Sonoma County, perhaps the most unsung stretch of shoreline anywhere in the Golden State.

As I traveled with my parents, who had recently retired and moved from the smoggy, dry flatlands of Orange County, in the south, to the lush rounded hills of Sonoma, in the north, it became clear that the Sonoma coast is a wild and moody yin to Orange County's bright and placid yang. Everything is different, right down to the roads.

Highway 1, in the crowded southern beach towns, is a long ribbon of concrete, broken by traffic lights and strip malls. In Sonoma, the same highway becomes twisty and loopy, like an overcooked strand of linguine. And while the Orange Coast is all soft white light and towering palms, Sonoma's shore is a temperamental realm of fogbound bluffs and tortured cypress trees, bent perpetually landward by stiff gales that howl in from the restless sea.

As much as I miss the balmy skies and gentle surf of my Southern California youth, the taciturn spectacle of Sonoma's rocky shores is, I found, far more intriguing.

We explored the length of Sonoma County's lonely ocean front in a leisurely three days last August, taking off from my parents' new home near Santa Rosa, in the heart of Sonoma's wine country.

We drove west past funky little Sebastopol, a Green Party redoubt of aging hippies with gray pony tails and organic vegetable gardens bordering Craftsman cottages. Winding country roads carried us over oak-covered hills and past expansive cattle ranches, and down to the wharf-side fishing village of Bodega Bay, a weathered but charming collection of wooden structures clinging to scrubby cliffs that surround the tranquil harbor.

At breezy Bodega Head, a favorite of whale watchers in winter and spring, the views up and down the rugged coast were magnificent: Beneath ocher sandstone cliffs, harbor seals napped on smooth black rocks or cavorted in the flourishing kelp beds, engulfed in seawater that alternated from aquamarine to indigo like a marine patchwork quilt.

The headland and harbor create an extraordinary topography, an unsettling reminder of the danger that lurks beneath: The deadly San Andreas Fault passes right through here. It shears Bodega Bay in half, with the mainland on one tectonic plate, moving westward, and the headland on another plate, moving northward.

Just north of Bodega Bay, off Highway 1, we came across one of the most unusual memorials I have ever seen. Called the Children's Bell Tower, the three-tiered steel structure, adorned with dozens of hand-cast bronze bells, was erected in memory of a local child, Nicholas Green, who was killed by robbers during a family vacation in Italy.

The Green family donated the boy's organs to seven Italian patients. Grateful citizens from around Italy sent the bells to California. It's an eerily sad but strangely beautiful and uplifting monument. Heading up Highway 1, we snaked along crumbling cliffs, rock-strewn coves and nearly deserted beaches with names like Furlong Gulch, Duncan's Landing and Schoolhouse Beach. Most of this stretch is part of the Sonoma Coast State Beach. In fact, over half of Sonoma County's 53 miles of coastline is given over to public use.

Unlike the warm, wide sands of Orange County, Sonoma's beaches are striking, mostly empty, and sometimes very treacherous. These are not beaches for swimming. There were signs everywhere warning of crumbling cliffs and dangerous ''sleeper waves,'' which rise from nowhere and sweep the beach with gushing white water.

''Few survive,'' the signs say.

It is strongly recommended that beachcombers walk well behind the surf line, even in fair weather.

Eleven miles north of Bodega we hit the mouth of the Russian River, where the hamlet of Jenner climbs the steep hillsides. The place has a faraway, edge-of-the-earth feel, and Jenner is unavoidably romantic.

We stopped for a walk at Goat Rock Beach, a wide, lonely sandbar littered with driftwood that's been polished to a gloss by the blowing sand. The beach is home to a sizable colony of harbor seals that lolls in a protected area, off limits to people.

Then we headed to Jenner Inn and Cottages, an enchanting collection of riverfront chalets and creekside suites, with an antiques-filled lodge, bar and restaurant, and a welcoming staff. I had reserved the Pelican Suite, in a white-wood Victorian cottage hugging the river. A bay window and balcony overlooked the river, ocean and distant forested mountains. White fingers of evening fog ascended into the highlands.

The cottage's interior was a little worn, but nicely appointed with Windsor chairs, a large fireplace and blue pastel wallpaper. Downstairs, on the river, was a hot tub, practically de rigueur in these parts.

We had drinks on the balcony, watching kayakers ply the river, then walked to the hotel's restaurant, Mystic Isle Cafe. Dinner in the wood-beamed lodge was great. A medley of Pacific prawns, scallops and clams in a buttery sauce made with Sonoma champagne was stellar, and locally grown organic baby vegetables were so pure you could practically taste the sun. My dad had breaded organic chicken breasts between ''pillows'' of garlic mashed potatoes. The wine list is all local labels.

At daybreak, the fog dissipated to reveal a gorgeous California morning. A few miles' drive up the winding Russian River brought us to Duncan's Mills, population 85, a Wild West town that dispatched redwood lumber to San Francisco in the 19th century.

Duncan's Mills is a smattering of old painted-wood buildings, including the old North Pacific Coast Railroad station, now a railroad museum, and the Blue Heron, a quirky tavern with live music at night. An old sign on the wall informs visitors that the establishment once ''contained an assortment of folks natural to a place where America drains to the sea.''

This small community qualifies as ''arty.'' Across the highway are more shops, restaurants and galleries. Our favorite was Christopher Queen Galleries, which showcases early and contemporary local artists, including the sublime California Impressionists like Maynard Dixon. The owner, Nancy Ferreira, a handsome woman with silver hair and decked in a long purple tunic with a bejeweled talisman, gave us a personal tour.

''Most of the artists were members of the Bohemian Club,'' she told us. The club, a controversial men-only summertime sleep-away camp for political bigwigs, captains of industry and literary lights, lies across the river in a magnificent redwood grove.

''It has terrible P.R.,'' Ms. Ferreira said, ''But it's a wonderful club.''

California Impressionism is divided into two schools: Northern and Southern. And like the regions they sprang from, the two are positively distinct.

''The Southern school is noted for white light and airy palettes,'' our hostess explained. ''But the Northern school had a much darker palette. It was moody and a bit more somber.''

We spent a pleasurable hour admiring the paintings, then headed back to Highway 1. We zigzagged north, hundreds of feet above the crashing surf, often without so much as a guardrail. I gripped the armrest as Dad negotiated the curves. Mom, in the back, read the paper. She couldn't look.

We wound our way past steep gulches with fresh creeks cascading into the ocean, until we arrived in Fort Ross State Historic Park, where the Russian-American Company, commissioned by Czar Paul I, operated an otter hunting outfit from 1812 to 1841. The weathered wood fort and fur-trapping center, where Russians and native Alaskans struggled but ultimately failed to survive, is perched on a picturesque promontory above the sea.

The state converted the compound into a park in 1906, three months before the San Francisco earthquake reduced some of it to splinters. (The San Andreas passes within a few hundred yards of the fort.) Many structures were rebuilt over the years, including the officers' quarters and the lovely little chapel with twin onion-dome spires and Russian Orthodox crosses.

Sarah Gould, a park interpreter, spoke about the ill-fated colony. She showed how colonists made clothes with thread made by chewing animal gut. ''Aren't you glad,'' she said, ''that you live in this century?''

From the fort, the highway winds through spectacular coastal scenery that my father likened to Monterey Peninsula. At Salt Point State Park, we stopped at Stump Beach and followed the short trail through a bishop pine grove to a dazzling beach, nearly empty, where killdeer birds scampered on white sand and black cormorants dove from cliff-side nests into the water. Like an unwelcome relative, the San Andreas Fault appeared there, too, forming sag ponds.

Continuing north, we passed through the Sea Ranch, a luxury resort of large, Hamptons-like houses, some designed in the 1960's by Charles Moore, set behind forests and meadows. We stopped for lunch at the golf course clubhouse overlooking the ocean. I had delicious fish-and-chips made with fresh pink salmon.

Our last night, we stayed in Gualala (pronounced wah-LAH-lah), just over the line in Mendocino County. Lovely, but a little odd, it has a Western feel but with a hippy-dippy Northern California twist. Burly men drove pickup trucks with bumper stickers like one I saw that said, ''My Goddess gave birth to YOUR God.''

The Gualala Country Inn was very clean and attractive, though it's on the other side of the highway from the ocean.

The next day, we bought some local goat cheeses, breads and smoked salmon at the town's small but lush Farmers Market, and drove upriver to Gualala River Redwood Park. After picnicking on a fine riverside beach shaded by towering coastal redwoods, we drove south to the turnoff for the tiny alpine settlement of Annapolis, which would bring us over the steep mountains and back inland toward Santa Rosa.

Past undulating vineyards of pinot noir and chardonnay that climbed the steep forested ridges, I caught glimpses of the blue Pacific stretching out far below the redwoods. The crisp air was heavy with the scent of wildflowers and evergreens and the sun glowed warm and pure. The landscape was peaceful and deserted, a world away from the crowded coast to the south.

A winding and scenic route

Sonoma Coast State Beach, (707) 875-3483, and Salt Point State Park, in Jenner, www.parks.ca.gov, offer camping, hiking and fishing year round. Camping fees start at $16 a night, but will rise in July.

Fort Ross State Historic Park, in Jenner, (707) 847-3286, www.parks.ca.gov, is open daily 10 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Parking, $4.

Christopher Queen Galleries, 4 John Orr's Gardens, Duncan's Mills, (707) 865-1318, sells contemporary and early California art. Closed Tuesday.

Where to Stay

Jenner Inn and Cottages, 10400 Highway 1, Post Office Box 69, Jenner, Calif. 95450, (800) 732-2377, fax (707) 865-0829, www.jennerinn.com, has 21 rooms, private cottages and suites. Doubles range from $98 to $378, with breakfast.

Gualala Country Inn, Post Office Box 697, 47955 Center Street, Gualala, Calif. 95445, (707) 884-4343, fax (707) 884-1018, www.gualala.com, has 20 rooms and suites with ocean or river views: $110 to $165 with Continental breakfast.

Gualala River Redwood Park, Post Office Box 1032, Gualala, Calif. 95445, (707) 884-3533, www.gualalapark.com, has 120 drive-in campsites -- 20 with river views -- available from Memorial Day through September for $36 to $42 a night. Day use is $10.

Where to Eat

Mystic Isle Cafe at Jenner Inn, 10400 Highway 1, Jenner, (707) 865-2233, features fresh local seafood and produce. Open for breakfast, lunch and dinner daily from Mother's Day to Thanksgiving; the rest of the year, it is closed Tuesday and Wednesday. Dinner for two with wine, $100.

The Sea Ranch, 60 Sea Walk Drive, The Sea Ranch, (707) 785-2371, www.searanchlodge.com, offers fine dining in the Lodge, where dinner with wine is about $110. The Smokehouse, at the golf course, (707) 785-9696, serves lighter fare; lunch is about $10. Both are open daily.

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