Me and Patrick. On bikes. Like, 25 miles.
I don’t think I would have guessed that. I knew were talking about maybe renting bikes one day during our trip, and what I imagined was a leisurely stroll along some park paths and maybe across the Golden Gate Bridge.
Obviously I forgot I’m married to a cyclist.
Proud moment no. 1: Climbing to the peak of the Marin Headlands without getting off my bike.
I had this running monologue about maybe I would have to get off my bike because it was getting pretty steep and I could see exactly how far we had to go (a lot far) and Patrick should definitely keep riding to the top without me and we could both enjoy the trip, me from my stop on the side of the road and him from his mountain-top view. I was going on and on, all while pedaling slowly and more slowly to the top. All the way to the top.
Proud moment no. 2: Getting back on my back after we’d ridden into Sausalito for lunch, for our return ride to the bike-rental stand at the Ferry Building in the city.
Not so proud: of all the cursing I did on that return ride. I was tired and sore. And while the ride to Sausalito had been sunny and warm, the return was foggy and cold. I’m afraid I was miserable company for Patrick. But once I got over myself, the ride was pretty easy, tourist-crowded piers notwithstanding.
And then the rest of our day was full of good beer and food. So what’s the whine about?
San Francisco signage is notably more interesting, in general, than signage in other cities.
These two guys were cute. They spent a good five minutes running back and forth from their tripod to get the shot. Also, those mountainy looking things in the background are part of our Marin Headlands climb.
This is what a ten-mile gap looks like from the Sausalito shore to downtown San Francisco. See it hiding in the fog at the left?
Thirsty Bear was a happy accidental find: We’d planned to drink at 21st Amendment, but the place was incredibly packed with game-day goers. This place? Also crowded, but we had the good luck to catch a seat at the bar just as it became available. And the barkeep was clearly a well-educated beer lover. Really good beer talk; free little tasters of the cask selection we’d asked about but not ordered; the kind of beer experience a homebrewer (and his wife) want to have.
Another happy accident: Patrick and I traveled back into Burlingame rather late, but still managed to get a seat at Blue Line Pizza within minutes (despite a packed house). We split a salad (excellent house vinaigrette) and a deep dish pizza with basil.
It was the cap the night called for.