And then there, right across my path, loped a huge coyote. He was so big, at first, I thought he was a wolf. Then I remembered wolves don't live in Point Reyes. He looked thirsty; we were into a long drought. He was walking, head down, in the direction of the point. There was that fresh water pond where the tule elk go.

A short way down the Tomales Point Trail, I stopped dead in my tracks. I could not believe what I was seeing. It was a long-tailed weasel! He poked his tawny head from a hole in the middle of the trail.

It's hard to imagine living here. The weather sweeps in and out uninhibited by this little sliver of land. The terrain is grass, grass and more grass. It's isolated by water on three sides. The people who lived here had each other and a lot of cows for company. I'm sure the solitude suited some, but others must have gone mad.

About forty-five minutes into the walk runs a line of white boulders the native Miwok refer to as the Spirit Jumping-off Place.