tee Neo rieus: 
Vor. XI. SEPTEMBER, 1897. 
ae 
° 
On 
BOLINAS, CALIFORNIA; THE CONCHOLOGISTS PARADISE. 
BY WILLIARD M. WOOD. 
Aqui estoy otravez! 
Once more I have reached the rocky shores of dear old historic 
Bolinas. I could never tear myself from this antique Spanish town 
by the Ocean. How I love to hear the mighty waves beat wildly 
against the solid rocks, and see the lofty yellow bluffs which rise so 
majestically from Neptune’s enchanting home. 
Annually, during the summer months, I find that [ am—like the 
proverbial Snail, wending my way, through exquisite redwood forests 
and inhaling the salubrious mountain air. The point of destination 
is alway Bolinas. Bolinas, thou art and ever shall be my Mecca. 
This year, Mr. George E. Townsend and the writer concluded to 
pitch tent and camp upon one of the smaller bluffs, by the side of 
a delightful rippling creek, within a stone’s throw of the beach which 
is used for bathing purposes, in lieu of making the hotel our head- 
quarters during our stay. We also decided to “tramp it,” and as 
each possessed a good pair of strong limbs, the start was made from 
San Anselmo Station, Marin County. The distance from the station 
to Bolinas is estimated at about twenty miles. ‘Ten miles of this 
number is entirely devoted to up hill climbing, and so steep, that in 
portions where there is no shelter from the sun as it sends forth 
its penetrating rays, one becomes quite exhausted, especially when 
one is principally confined in a down town office, pondering over 
innumerable books and papers, and not used to mountain climbing. 
