It’s roughly 10 AM on the Friday before Memorial Day. Right now, all across Lamorinda, an ancient ritual is quietly unfolding. The packing lists are out. The dog is being dropped at the sitter’s. The kids have been told one iPad each and they don’t believe you. Someone is texting “WE LEAVE BY 2 — HARD STOP” into a family group chat, knowing full well that the family will not, in fact, leave by 2.
This is the Friday Exodus. It happens every Memorial Day. It is going to happen to you, whether you participate or not.
The Pre-Exodus Errand Stack
Before any Lamorinda household can leave town, a series of small civic tasks must be completed. This is non-negotiable.
- The Costco Run (yesterday, or right now if you forgot yesterday). The Lafayette Costco at 4 PM on Thursday before Memorial Day is, statistically, the most efficient way to encounter every neighbor you’ve been meaning to call. The line for gas wraps the building. Someone has a flatbed cart that is 60% paper goods and 40% Costco salmon. You will leave with a 12-pack of LaCroix you didn’t intend to buy.
- The Vacation Hold on the Mail. This used to be a postcard you mailed in. Now it’s an app. You will still get the mail.
- The “I’m Leaving Town” Nextdoor Post (the bold ones). A neighbor will offer to bring in your trash bins. Three others will reply with strong opinions about whether this constitutes a security risk. The thread runs to 47 comments.
- The Plant Watering Negotiation. You will text the teenager next door. They will not respond for four hours. You will pre-pay $40 because you’ve already mentally committed.
The Pickup Lie
This year, an unusual number of seniors are graduating on Saturday. Last weekend’s graduation lawn signs are still up. This means a meaningful slice of Lamorinda is not leaving town this weekend — they’re hosting the cousins, the grandparents, the family friend from Sacramento who insists on bringing his own folding chair.
If you have a graduating senior, you are not exodus-ing. You are receiving. Your driveway is now an airport.
The rest of us are looking at you with a complicated mix of envy (you don’t have to drive) and relief (you don’t get to leave). This is normal.
The Three Departures
Every Lamorinda Memorial Day exodus is, in fact, one of three:
- The Tahoe Run. Heading up I-80 to either the North Shore (Tahoe City, Kings Beach, Truckee) or the South Shore (lol, nobody from Lamorinda goes to South Shore, don’t be ridiculous). Best case: 3.5 hours. Average case: 5. Worst case: you ate dinner in Auburn and you have not forgiven yourself.
- The Coastal Move. Stinson, Bodega, Sea Ranch, Mendocino. Less traffic, more fog, the dog is happier. You will tell everyone this was the move. You will mean it.
- The Wine Country Detour. Healdsburg, Sonoma, Napa for the truly committed. You have a tasting reservation at 11 AM Saturday and you are not going to miss it. Worth it. Mostly.
There is a secret fourth option: Stay. More on this later.
The 24-East Trap
The plan was to leave at 2 PM. The reality is you leave at 4:17. By the time you hit the tunnel, eastbound 24 is the slow part. The merge onto 680 is the slower part. The 680-to-80 connector in Cordelia is where joy goes to die.
There will be a moment around Fairfield — usually right when you pass the In-N-Out you swore you wouldn’t stop at — when you will say, out loud, “We should have left at 11 AM.” This is also tradition. You will not, in fact, leave at 11 AM next year.
The “Beat the Traffic” Delusion
A subset of Lamorinda Memorial Day travelers practice a particular form of self-deception: they leave at, say, 5 AM Saturday to “beat the traffic.” This works for exactly two years, until everyone else figures it out. Now 5 AM Saturday on I-80 looks like 2 PM Friday on I-80. The traffic was the people trying to beat the traffic. We are the traffic.
The real pros leave Thursday night. They are smug. They have earned it.
The Quiet Town
And then there are those of us who stay. By Saturday morning, the difference is palpable. The Lafayette Reservoir parking lot has — for the first time since February — available spots after 9 AM. The grocery store at noon is a near-spiritual experience. Downtown Lafayette is operating at about 70% capacity, and every patio table is yours for the choosing.
The dog walkers know. The retirees know. The empty-nesters who already did their Tahoe trip in March know. There’s a quiet smugness on every front porch this weekend in the unmistakable posture of: we live here. Why would we leave?
The microclimates are perfect. The hills are doing their gold-and-green thing. The pools are open (see: Memorial Day soft launch). The trails are yours — well, mostly. The reservoir gets crowded around 11, but you’re already done by then.
You drink your iced coffee on your back patio at 10:30 AM Saturday. Your phone buzzes — your friend in Truckee just sat through 90 minutes of stop-and-go through Auburn. You feel something. It is not unkindness. It is, perhaps, clarity.
The Return
For the travelers: Monday afternoon eastbound 80 from Tahoe is, traditionally, one of the worst driving experiences in Northern California. You will pull into your driveway at 11:47 PM Monday. The dog will be furious. The cooler will smell. You will swear, again, that next year you’re staying.
You will not stay next year. None of us learn.
Whether you’re heading out or staying put, drive safe, water the lawn, and tip the teenager. See you Tuesday.
