A pair of left turns in Mill Valley, then a right up Mt. Tamalpais, passing Green Gulch Farm, bending north at the Pacific, a bearded man hiking by sign to Slide Ranch takes me back to hauling wood up from ocean to a driftwood house's oil drum stove. Nights sprawled on attic floor, watching tankers' lights crawl across the horizon, while scratching blisters of poison oak.

Bolinas Lagoon. Drive the where there's no sign to a lunch of leek soup, avocado salad, and Jerry Garcia's favorite desert, at the home of John & Margot Doss. Margot recalls inviting Richard Brautigan to dinner. "Thanks," he said, "but I have dinner under my arm (a slab of meat). After I finish it, I'm leaving for Montana." His body was found several weeks later in his house in Bolinas, "covered with flies."

We also remember Jack Boise, who fell to his death from a beam of the house he was building. "And Don Allen?" "He's alive, but Bill Brown has passed away." I relate the story of how one night in their old house Bill Brown woke me up, then spent most of the night pacing the parlor speaking of his past in lines like "She knew she was mine by the length of my glance." The next day, sober, the poetry was gone.

A physician, John discusses their two years living in Samoa, and his doctoring smallpox in India and Bangladesh. Then we drive to the mesa, Eucalyptus greener than thought, toward Joanne Kyger's house, who's on the road, so we visit Arthur Okamura.