Loaded my (mountain) bike into the truck and drove into San Francisco yesterday morning to see the last race of the America’s Cup series. I parked at Fort Point under the Golden Gate Bridge, where surfers were riding small waves, weaving around the offshore rocks.
I rode over to the Marina Greens, pleasant sunny morning, Got a 4-barrel latte and donut at a dockside kiosk, rode past Aquatic Park, South End Rowing club, a half dozen cove swimmers in the water (half of them wearing wetsuits, no less!), past Fisherman’s Wharf — hadn’t realized how gaudy it’s become. There were two gigantic cruise ships in port, grotesque pieces of shit. San Francisco, still a beautiful and wonderful city, once a vital west coast port, but here whoring out to the tourist buck. I digress.
The entire bay side of the city, from bridge to bridge, was full of strolling (and biking) people. I got a burger and chocolate shake at the In-n-Out — don’t do that often, but needed some energy. Biked down to Pier 29, where the boats were berthed, then back to the hill between Aquatic Park and Fort Baker, and watched the big boats racing across the bay. The New Zealanders were out front, but Oracle sped by them in the upwind leg. Call it perverse, unpatriotic, or rooting for the underdog, but I wanted the New Zealanders to win. Whatever, these boats are awesome. There were hundreds of other boats of all persuasions out in the bay.
Rode bike back to my truck, bucking 30mph-or-so winds, crossed the bridge, jumped in my mountain canyon pool on the way home, walked a bit on the sand at Stinson Beach, winds dying down. Pretty nice day. Tomorrow I’m going to try walking into San Francisco, leaving here at dawn…