Beyond the Bowling Lanes — Wine Country to the Bay

The tournament crew went home. We didn’t.

My friend and I pointed the RV toward the coast, and just like that, the trip became something different.

No bowling schedule. No games to plan around. No reason to be anywhere at a certain time. Just the road, a few ideas of places we wanted to see, and the freedom to decide as we went.

Wine Country and a Home Base

After leaving Tahoe, we headed toward a Hipcamp farm stay — Pharo Pharms Organic Farm — a perfect little home base between San Francisco and Sonoma. We’d reserved two nights, giving us time to explore without having to move the RV every day.

We pulled in, got settled, and Bandit immediately started exploring.

There were animals to investigate, new smells everywhere, and a whole farm property to check out. He was pretty sure this place was created just for him.

With the RV parked, we took the Jeep into Sonoma for the afternoon.

No strict itinerary. No checklist. Just wineries, beautiful scenery, and the question we kept asking ourselves: “What’s next?”

That evening, we ended up at Murphy’s Irish Pub for music trivia night.

There was a woman sitting alone who normally played with a couple of friends, but they couldn’t make it that night — so somehow we became her temporary team.

And just like that, we were competing in trivia with people we’d met five minutes earlier.

We headed back to the farm that night, tired and happy.

Into the City

The next morning, we left the RV behind again and took the Jeep into San Francisco.

We hiked the Slacker Trailhead first, climbing for incredible views of the bay, boats cruising past the Golden Gate’s north tower, and more wildlife along the way than we expected — a seagull, even a swallowtail butterfly drifting past with Angel Island in the distance.

From there, we wandered along Crissy Field, out to Fisherman’s Wharf, and past an old “View Alcatraz” sign on the pier — taking in the city with the Golden Gate Bridge in view the whole time.

By evening, we made our way down to Rodeo Beach — and doing what I apparently always do when I find something interesting… taking a picture with it.

This time, it was a tiny purple shore crab.

Before heading back, we made one more stop.

Muir Woods.

There is something about standing among those giant trees that makes you slow down and appreciate just how small you are.

We spent one more night back at the farm before packing up the RV the next morning.

But we still weren’t ready to turn around.

One More Day of Nowhere in Particular

June 18th was a driving day. No big attraction. No must-see destination.

At one point, the road wound straight through the towering redwoods of Richardson Grove State Park — no stopping, just driving through trees that dwarfed the RV on both sides.

That afternoon, we stopped at Clifford Kamph Memorial Park, where the sunset and the waves were worth pulling over for. Bandit had other priorities — mainly digging a hole in the sand like it was his life’s work.

We came west for bowling.

But somewhere along the way, the trip has become about so much more.

The best memories are from the moments we never planned.

Tomorrow, we start making our way back — even if it isn’t in a straight line home.