I miss bars. Not drinking. Just bars.
I’m fortunate to be located within a quick drive of many great Bay Area breweries, and these days they need the support. But if I’m short on funds or don’t feel like driving anywhere, I dig around in the storage locker I call my “cellar” and grab an expensive, mixed-culture beer I’ve been sitting on. Lately, I’ve been blowing the dust off those bottles and treating myself.
What I’m saying is, I can handle the drinking. I am, however, getting tired of missing out on the people, places, and conversations that often coexist with the drinking.
About an hour north of me on Lakeville Highway and Stage Gulch Road near Petaluma, tucked among the rolling, golden hills of Sonoma County, is Ernie’s Tin Bar. Established in 1923, it has become one of my all-time favorite watering holes. Ernie’s is equal parts old-school California craft and blue-collar, and you can belly up to the bar and order yourself a Russian River pint while the dairy farmer two stools over has a Coors. Be aware, however, of the number-one rule at Ernie’s: No cell phones. Violation of this rule results in you buying a round for the bar.
The regulars at Ernie’s range from cowboys to college kids. I once met an elderly German farmer there who had owned the land behind Lagunitas Brewing Company for several decades. He told me he was excited to see the town grow, and watch such a successful business sprout in front of his eyes. I offered to buy him a Lagunitas, but he turned me down. He always drank the same beer on the same day of the week (both of which escape me now), and would come to flirt with Ernie’s widow.
Ernie’s grandson, who shares his name, now runs the bar. I’ve talked to him a few times, but he no idea who I am. It’s funny that he also has no idea how happy I’ll be when I can see him again, and eavesdrop on his regulars as they heckle the city slickers who take out their cell phones.
Words + Photoby Tim Decker