The California Coast
Some people argue that environmentalists go to far to protect the environment, ignoring human values like jobs and property rights. While I can see their point of view, and agree that environmentalists do sometimes become entrenched in their own rhetoric, I firmly believe that it is better - far better - to err on the side of preserving the environment than on the side of developing it. Once it's gone, there's no getting it back.
In California there's probably no more controversial or bureacratic entity on the part of preservation than the California Coastal Commission. It was established in 1972 to oversee development and preservation of 1,000 miles of coastline, and ensure that the public has access to it.
The commission is viewed as evil by developers who wish to build pricey houses on bluffs overlooking the ocean, and by landowners lucky enough to have houses on beach-front property who reject the idea of strangers trespassing on "their" beach. But for any nature-lover who drives along the California coast - and that includes the fleets of out-of-state motor homes who trundle down Highway 1 by the thousands every summer, bringing their out-of-state dollars with them - the Coastal Commission has done a spectacular job of keeping the coastline worth looking at, and the beaches open to all.
Just north of San Francisco the San Andreas Fault separates a piece of land from the mainland by a long narrow bay, Tomales Bay. All the land to the west is protected by the federal government as the Pt. Reyes National Seashore. The bay itself is a paradise for nature lovers - kayaking, sailing, fishing - the locally famous Horseneck Clams, that can get to be several feet long. But mostly the bay and the park are so inviting because the Coastal Commission has kept development along the bay's eastern shore in check.
Yesterday I took a group of 17 people (including five teenagers) on a 10-mile hike along the ridge trail from Pierce Ranch to Tomales Point. It was truly a stupendous trip, with perfect weather and near infinite visibility. The peninsula is home to a re-established herd of Tule Elk, and this time of year is the rutting season. The males fight one another for domination of the herd. The winner takes charge of as many females as he can manage and the males are exiled to sulk by themselves in one of the many canyons. I could go on and on about the day, the elk, and the beauty of the land, but I took photos, so I'll let them speak for me.
And I'll take the opportunity to thank the Coastal Commission for preserving the area for all of us.
Notice the small herd of elk on the slopes at right.
The vacation homes in the background are part of Dillon Beach, established well before the Coastal Commission took over. They fiercely resisted a move by a Japanese corporation to buy up surrounding property and turn it into an exclusive golf country club.
5:20:45 PM 
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