Monte Rio, California isn't part of very many people's any-ography. It's not on the way to the wine country and it's not on the way to the beach. It's somewhere between the two points, off the line. There's nothing predictable about Monte Rio. You're as likely to come across a famous painter or writer, as a biker or a paroled sex offender. Sometimes they're behind the same beard. It's one of the Golden State's most understated cities, but down the street fatcats fly by helicopter to the Bohemian Grove and dine on barbequed oysters. The shit-filled Russian River flows through the whole thing. Why?    next >