June 24, 2009

"I left my lungs in San Francisco"

I needed air for my tires so I rode up and down a few streets looking for a bike shop while Shelby stayed put and wrote in her journal. I finally found a bike rental place that let me use a pump. Waiting out side a woman asked me to take her picture with her bike. She asked where I was from.
“Chicago.”
I asked where she was from.
“Chapel Hill, NC.”
“What?! I’m originally from Raleigh.”

She and her husband worked at Duke. She was a sweet and obviously southern lady, her husband was obviously a transplant (like most of Duke’s student body) from New Jersey, or some such horrible place. Don’t get me wrong he was also very nice but all business and with no time to chat about geographic coincidence. They were going to bike over the Golden Gate and take the ferry back to Fisherman’s Wharf, a common route for cycling tourists.
Shelby and I had plans of our own. When I caught up with her she was reading on a bench underneath the TransAmerica Building (the pointy pyramid one).



We headed down Market St through the financial district and ran full tilt into a farmer’s market. We got off our bikes and walked them through to take a gander. After a few minutes we proceeded with the rest of the plan. The plan for today was this: Bike from North Beach to the Haight and wind our way through Golden Gate Park. On the other side of the park we would head up to the Cliff House and see that, then back through Golden Gate park to the Castro, and finally the Mission. Ambitious to say the least.

Biking up the worst hills proved impossible, but most of the hills were just very challenging. Determined to pedal up hills that my bike isn't gear low enough for, I nearly died twice. In GG park we saw the botanical gardens, the dutch windmill, and a WPA mural in the Park Chalet. Outside the Cliff House was a giant Camera Obscura. I was bummed that it was closed. Next to the Cliff House are the concrete ruins of the Sutro Baths, an old swimming resort from way back when that part of the city was secluded and cut off from the main part. We ate chili at a little diner called Louis’, which is also up on a cliff, just a few hundred feet from the more famous “Cliff House”

Back down the hill and through the park we made our way to the Castro. We locked up the bikes and explored. We found the GLBT Historical Society and looked around. They told us where to find Harvey Milk’s old photo shop and soon we were standing over the plaque and looking up at the mural on the second floor. I don't know enough about Harvey Milk to know how he would react to a giant plush penis walking down Castro, but I'm sure it would have made an impression.


We continued on to the Mission district for a drink and to find one of the taquerias that Claire had recommended. We stumbled onto a cool little bar called Amnesia (As we found out when we got to LA our friend Thom knows the owners) A Django Reinhart style jazz band was schedule to play so we stuck around until about an hour into their set. We walked on to get dinner at la Corneta and headed biking back home exhausted after a full day of exploration.