We recently set out on our annual kayak camping trip to Tomales Bay—the narrow, sheltered waterway just north of San Francisco where the San Andreas Fault quietly nudges California into the Pacific one millimeter at a time. It’s one of the few places you can sleep on a beach, cook dinner on a camp stove, and feel like you’ve traveled a hundred miles from the world—even if you only paddled five.
Before launching out to our favorite beach, we made the usual stop at Palace Market in Point Reyes Station to stock up. Their surprisingly good wine selection never disappoints, and as I scanned the shelves, my eye caught on a label. It featured an oyster shell—fitting, considering Hog Island Oyster Farm was our next stop—and I almost passed it off as a clever bit of coastal branding. But then I looked closer.
It was a bottle of Picpoul Blanc, a varietal close to our hearts. We grow it ourselves and are all-in on Rhône varietals, so seeing it in a Marin County grocery store was already a nice surprise. But then things got even better: the grapes were grown at Saureel Vineyards in El Dorado County—right in our backyard.
This bottle had traveled from the Sierra Foothills, through a Sonoma winemaker, Raft Wines, and landed on a shelf beside the fog of Tomales Bay. It felt like the wine had followed us. Naturally, it went straight into a dry bag for the paddle ahead.
That night, with tents pitched and the tide gently pulling at our boats, we grilled up dinner and cracked open the bottle. The Picpoul was electric—bright with citrus, a hint of salinity, and just enough minerality to make it feel like it belonged both to the mountains and the sea. Paired with oysters and Point Reyes Creamery Quinta, it was one of those rare moments when everything lines up just right.
Tomales Bay always delivers—be it bat rays in the shallows, coastal breezes, or a surprise bottle that somehow feels like home. Even better: we had all three girls with us this time!
