Two hours is far too long to spend driving from Santa Rosa to Vallejo, partly on a single-lane highway with your tires at water level. Halfway home, Robert Donohoe had suffered enough. He really needed to pee. Parking his truck at a turn-off called Vista Point, he got out and shaded his eyes. It was a scorching June afternoon, wind whipping the thistles and cordgrass on a spit of land that dipped into San Pablo Bay.