Tomales Point Stone Lines

further interested by lucy lippard’s overlay and my disappointing outing to the headlands labyrinth, discovering the tomales point stone line on the web led sarah and i on an unforgettable hike.

driving up the north bay on the way up to point reyes, the winding gravel road remoteness felt like a natural conclusion to the inverness lawns adorned with funky decor and the handfull of local barangrill. for a region we’d traveled through many times, it felt special on this occasion, newly inspired by a region known to host to expansive and gorgeous land art, redwood burl sculpture, and sumptuous architecture.

civilization sank behind us as we ascended the plateau, and an abandoned dairy emerged on the outskirts of the tomales point parking lot. pierce ranch was apparently the largest of its kind on the peninsula a hundred years ago. it was strange to find it both dead and overgrown, rusting over and preserved. it gave the impression of its inhabitants having just picked up and departed.

so having packed our cameras and a tiny bit of our camping equipment, unsure if there would be a place to relax among the stones, we hiked towards the point through a gently pitched and sandy trail. we avoided transiting pillbugs and the occasional gully.

it wasn’t long before the goliath rock greeted us, elegant and dignified, balanced on a bed of smaller granitic stones. it became apparent later that goliath’s human intervention extended beyond its positioning and inconceivable stone stage underneath, but also on it’s flat, carved face. a clear and deep carving of a six-sided star facing the cliffside seemed to sarah and i a natural, assumed marvel.

the sensation of communion with ancient humans, present through what is left behind, through material culture or artwork or stones dug and drug from miles away, was deep and affecting, and a quietude washed over us. our shutters clicked in awe, fruitlessly trying to capture the sensation of timelessness.

i hold at most times painfully contradictory feelings towards art, materialism, culture, and history, but have leaned, in general, pessimistic. in the “natural” landscape, however, i feel most enlivened, my faith in art and its role among humanity restored. in a world that feels helplessly governed by contradictory forces, confusion and neurosis, mysterious stonework lies right in the fold, to glorious effect.

and then there’s the line: straight as an arrow, extending directly to the cliff’s end and seeming to point decisively at a gentle eddy. the description of the stones by the miwok as the “spirit jumping-off rocks” came to mind, and looking out at the water joyous tears rolled down my face. further research has lead us to discover the sentiment that “in many spiritual traditions, spirits are known to travel in a straight line, from point to point. crossroads and other barriers can interrupt their paths.” research suggests the site’s sacredness and funerary connotations, with its many mounds mirroring cassiopeia and its deliberately chosen megalithic stones. there is significant evidence that the site is centuries older than any european influence, though an article from an 2015 issue of california archeology suggests otherwise, the site is undeniably mystical.

and then the film camera jammed after this one was taken. this too seemed to us a mystical thing, so sarah opted to coil up and protect the roll rather than risk the existing exposures getting ruined by unseen forces. very shortly thereafter we looked towards the trail to find a herd of elk. they materialized like transient spirits, grazing the cliffside in silence.

we hiked a little further along, but having seen the monolith and the lines, the extra miles of hiking to tomales point itself, we agreed, was okay to skip. there were a few more mounds to observe but the elk seemed to suggest that we not venture further off trail.

returning to the ranch we sat down at a picnic table to retire with cold snacks and hot coffee my friend brought back from taiwan. it’s been several weeks since we took the trip up north to see the field of mounds, but i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. i’m reading hesse’s demian right now per sarah’s emphatic recommendation, and maybe this excerpt has something peripheral to do with my feelings about ancient life, neurosis, and rocks:

Even as a young boy I had been in the habit of gazing at bizarre natural phenomena, not so much observing them as surrendering to their magic, their confused, deep language. Long gnarled tree roots, colored veins in rocks, patches of oil floating on water, light-refracting flaws in glass—all these things had held great magic for me at one time: water and fire particularly, smoke, clouds, and dust, but most of all the swirling specks of color that swam before my eyes the minute I closed them.

…

To the few experiences which helped me along the way toward my life’s true goal I added this new one: the observation of such configurations. The surrender to Nature’s irrational, strangely confused formations produces in us a feeling of inner harmony with the force responsible for these phenomena. We soon fall prey to the temptation of thinking of them as being our own moods, our own creations, and see the boundaries separating us from Nature begin to quiver and dissolve.

until next time. our report from new mexico coming soon and maybe a transit review in the meantime.

peace and love