We’re selling a lot of copies of Builders of the Pacific Coast, and The Barefoot Architect. Last night, after some rock n roll at Bottom of the Hill, I went to Sam Wo restaurant about 2 AM. I’ve been going there for about 50 years. You walk in through the kitchen, climb narrow stairs, and surly waitresses take your order and haul it up on a dumb waiter. The place was famed in the ’60s for the ultra-rude waiter Edsel Ford, who would yell at you: “No egg foo yung, no sweet sour, no chow mein! What you want? Hurry up!” Edsel’s gone now, but his spirit remains. I had a bowl of wonton soup, delicious. They are open until 3AM. Lot of international travelers there late at night.

My talk on the half-acre homestead went well yesterday. It was fun, everyone was with me. Raining this morning, I’m at Ritual Roasters, v. cool barista/wi-fi cafe on Valencia St. Doing talk today on Builders of the Pacific Coast at Green Fest.

This flurry of posts is because I’m in the Big City for 4 days for the Green Festival.

Ocean beach yesterday, surfers” paradise, shadows in the sea mist…

An Irish coffee last night at the Buena Vista, Ghirardelli sign with  its handsome typography…

Cafe Roma in North Beach at daybreak today…

Skateboarding isn’t dangerous. Running is! Running has put me in the hospital twice, and bestowed upon me dozens of injuries over the years. As my knee slowly and surely heals, I’ve been rethinking my future running career. Hey, I want to run another 30 years.

Thanks largely to a pretty wonderful book, Born to Run. It’s got me into the idea of “chi running.” Running lightly with minimal foot cushion, feeling the ground. I’m gonna give up running (as) fast (as possible) in favor of running along the trails with more sensitivity, lightly.

Tuesday night was my first run since the operation a month ago. I wore these Sanuk shoes. They’re pretty close to being barefoot, just a bit of cushion, they’re made by surfers. I ran about 4 miles on coastal trails, with a bit of Ron Rahmer-type bushwhacking. It felt good to feel the trail with my feet.

Surf has been huge. Triple overhead at Kelly’s cove in SF yesterday, no one could get out. I went down to the beach this morning, very high tide. Three of my neighbors were down there, including fisherman Josh, and we watched the water pouring into the lagoon like mad, waves pounding out in the channel. Josh reminisced about when Jerry Dunn flipped his boat going out. “He tried to turn around and the wave tore the cabin off…”

Tide was high, tricky to get to the high sand area of the beach, so I made a dash for it. Ulp! Miscalculation. Waves washing in, getting higher and higher, up to my knees, and also logs and lots of flotsam bouncing around. Small log whacked my ankle. Please, Madame Ocean, I prayed, don’t slam me against that wall in front of these people. Luckily I made it through, my sweatpants soaked up to the crotch.

I wandered around on what little sand there was. All kinds of driftwood, ocean actively ripping up piers right now. Surfers getting the occasional good ride, abut mostly hammered.

Couldn’t go back the way I came, so I walked to the other end of the beach. There’s a seawall you have to run by to get to the opening shown above. Made it!