If you squint at the image above, you can just barely make out the Lick Observatory, gazing upon the heavens from the top of Mt. Hamilton since 1888. Piano maker and observatory founder James Lick is buried under it. He had little company, since the last time anyone counted, the nearby town had only 35 full-time residents.

Here we see earthquake damage at Olema Ranch circa 1906. Since then, the town's not been in the news much. With a population of probably only 55 people (so says the sign on the highway), it's the tiniest non-ghost town in all nine counties. You wouldn't know it now, but in its rowdy youth Olema was a good-time city "a raunchy row of cardrooms, saloons and establishments of even lesser repute" servicing logging camps, according to the Chamber of Commerce. "It would never grow bigger," they add.

Officially, only 56 people call Freestone home. If one of them moves to Olema the entire balance of the region will be turned on its head. Despite not having updated its look since 1876, the local shops enjoy something of a reputation for artisan foods. Tiny or not, they're still part of the Bay.

Once upon a time, Coyote was known as Burnett. Why the name change? Presumably on account of all of the coyotes. Yep, it's that sleepy up there, apparently. Indeed, nobody seems to be quite sure exactly how many people even live in Coyote anymore, but the last census estimated 80 within its ZIP code. Once, Coyote was a critical waypoint town leading into San Jose. Then Highway 101 cut it right out of its middleman position, utterly sinking the entire community's prospects. Now there's so little of it left that San Jose considered buying the entire thing back during the first dotcom boom.

Nicasio, population 96, is home to none other than George Lucas and his Skywalker Ranch, making the seemingly the only city in all of the Bay Area that's at least theoretically amenable to letting Lucas build anything. A Scottish frontiersman inadvertently founded the town (by building the first house) after being somewhat marooned in the Northern California wilderness after a ship he booked passage on never arrived in Monterey, setting him to wandering.

Looks like most people who go to Loma Mar are there for the nature camp serving 5th and 6th graders, ideally situated in this otherwise quiet and remote holdout that only 113 humans call their natural habitat.

Jenner's big claim to fame is the nearby beach and Russian River estuary, attractive to harbor seals (who come here to birth adorable pups) and ocean birds. Apparently it's a seal town for the most part, as the last human headcount numbered only 136.

Back in the '70s, a couple of noted artists, Christo and Jeanne-Claude, erected giant nylon panels 19-feet high in a faux "fence" that stretched 165,000 yards in Valley Ford. There was probably plenty of room for it, as the town boasts a population of just 147 today.

Timber Cove describes itself as "a scattering of homes," but you've probably at least heard of the Timber Cove Inn, with its 90-plus foot sculpted obelisk. The inn's 50 rooms could almost house the town's entire official population of 164 people all on its own.

Duncan Mills can make a fair claim to being the town that built San Francisco, as the namesake mill exported boatloads of lumber to the city in the 1890s. There's a fair chance that ay Victorian that survived the 1906 earthquake owes some of its stock to this little Russian River town of 175 people.

According to local historian Jerry Bowen, Elmira is another town done in by the highway. Once, it was a thriving railroad town, but those days are behind it, now hosting just 188 people. Still, it hasn't vanished the way Coyote nearly has, and its 47 families are still hanging in there.