Before You Go~

Check out Bonnie Lewkowicz' book on accessible trails in parks in northern CA -- actually, it's probably best to check out the website: http://www.accessnca.com/anc/index.php

We parked at Fort Mason and walked the 3.3 miles along the sea front path to Fort Point. The path was paved for some of the way and loose stoned for other parts. Still other points had some sand that had blown off the beach -- my chair is a mess after all this.

It was a perfect day. Not too hot: Wizard breaks a sweat and turns angry red the moment it goes above 40. And not too cold: I was wearing fleece trousers, a thermal top, a fleece jacket, and leg warmers. The sun shone; there was a light breeze. San Francisco is a beautiful city. There is no doubt of that. We watched freighters, a cruise ship, windsurfers, and sailboats; there was a slight wind, a fresh, invigorating salty smell, and sun. SUN!

We wondered if we could go up from sea level to the bridge. Wizard spotted the path -- we rushed over and saw the stairs; we followed the sign to an impossibly steep road. And then, just as we were about to give up, we heard the rattly engine of the PresidoGO! shuttle. The driver stopped and confirmed that she would take us to the bridge on her way back. We hung out, watching the waves. You know, sometimes, sometimes, the sea around here can be something other than sludgy grey.

The bus driver stopped; our hearts sank. She was running around in the bus backwards and forwards. She didn't know what she was doing obviously. No, wait! We were wrong; she emerged brandishing a belt (which she proceeded to loop around my waist). She opened the door, pressed the button, and nothing happened. This was one of those awful moments. I felt the people on the bus watching me. Waiting for me. And still nothing happened. The ramp refused to come down. Finally, we gave up. I shot off angrily towards the road, leaving Wizard to make apologies. He hurried after me, leaving the bus driver to figure it out. And up the hill we went.

Long Avenue, I can tell you, is aptly named. It is long. It is also bloody steep. I pushed; I pushed; I pushed. I was going to make it to the top. Wizard walked behind me. The stupid PresidiGO! bus pulled up behind me, but I was going to take every last bit of lane space. She would have to wait until I felt like I could pull over without losing momentum. Wizard pushed. We turned the corner. Up some more. And, finally, a sign to the gift shop and Golden Gate bridge.

The bridge never fails to please. We've been a number of times; it's fantastic every time. There's something exhilarating about the view of the Bay and, well, the open sea/sky on the other side. It was late; the sun began to set; the sky warmed up from blue to red, orange, purple, and scarlet.

"Hey, y'all are from around here?" We stopped. "Do you know where we can buy some cannabis?" We stared. The guy explained that he and his girlfriend were from Alabama and they wanted cannabis (cannabis! -- who calls it that!) We looked at each other -- was this some kind of sting? Why did he pick us? I mean, Wizard looks more geeky than hippie; does he think I have medical access? I responded that heading towards Marin was probably not the best strategy (my thought was that old hippies and suburban types grow and smoke in the privacy of their homes, but probably don't sell openly on the street). Wizard suggested that he go to a certain intersection in a certain neighborhood and ask the same question of someone around there. This surprised the guy. "Y'all aren't ... I mean, that's OK, right?" We recommended not asking the burly people in blue uniforms.

A good time was had by all.