Got up at 8:30 again. Slept reasonably well, but San Francisco's marine layer mad things a bit moist. Plus, I was sleeping on a slight incline so the sleeping bag would slip n' slide down the Thermarest. I had some cold coffee and oatmeal, packed up and started toward the visitor center across the highway when I ran into a cyclist who told me that Rodeo beach, about 5-6 miles down the Coastal Trail, had water etc. That did it. I was going into the woods. An 11-mile hike toward Muir Beach. No hitching. That raised my spirits a bit. My cell phone needed charging though, and I needed water.
I found a Mobile Satellite truck, of all things, at the visitor center. Good thing too, because there is not one power outlet at that 'rest stop'. Luckily the truck had power and the technician (who was literally sleeping (pic)) let me plug in and I proceeded to write in the journal and let the phone charge as long as I could.
Turns out the satellite truck was contracted by the Fox Business Channel to do some stellar, I'm sure, report about tourism from the Golden Gate Bridge. The meat puppet was a woman who reminded me of Jack Nicholson's deformed girlfriend in the original Batman. Probably my own jaded perspective. I'm sure most guys would think she was smokin'. I kept my opinions to myself, of course.
Eventually the truck packed up and left. I had my water and was ready to hike off. That's just what I did. Over the big hill that separates the Marin Headlands from 101. As the views improved so did my attitude. Felt good to be out of San Francisco and back into nature.
The initial part of the hike was the hardest, and I was carrying alot of water making me heavy. I was ecstatic at how my body held up, and the new inserts seemed to help the blister problem.
Rodeo Beach was my goal for the day, but I got started late, about 1:30, and was unsure of the terrain or ANYTHING about the hike. Turns out, it was great. Once to the top of that first hill, it had the accompanying decline on the other side. Life was good. Along the way, I began to ponder the idea of how things seem to present themselves along the way, and how they seem to accompany the effort I put forth, and the openness of my mind to finding them. A bit of foreshadowing.
I was making good time, so when I saw three cyclists sitting by the side of the path, I just said hi and continued on, but seeing my Canadian flag, they asked where I was from, saying they were from Montreal. I told them that was my ultimate destination, and that led to a short, but restful chat.
The trail markings then became less clear; just few vague signs. One advertised a "hostel" near Rodeo beach, so figured I'd aim myself that way. About the time the confusion set in was also the time I stumbled into some stables where a very nice, and attractive, woman offered directions. Apparently the fact that I was spinning around like a top with a 50# pack indicated that I was a a bit..."confused". I like that term.
I snacked on a Clif Bar then realized that was probably half of my problem and continued on toward the well-placed hostel, envisioning cheap accommodations and even a shower!
Ha!
When I finally arrived, the Lisa Loeb look alike manning the counter informed me that it would be $21 to stay there. I believe she was slightly offended when I inadvertently laughed at her. She then told me about a free campground that was right around the corner. I laughed again, much to her chagrin. I thought the whole idea of a hostel was to be affordable to travelers rather than paying $21 to immerse yourself in some pseudo-hippie culture.
Am I cynical?
I found the visitor center, registered to stay, for free, at the Bicentennial Campground and proceeded to hoof it past the Nike Missile Cold War era nuclear weapon site. It reeked of death. I can't explain it, but it was creepy. I got to the campsite, which was already occupied by two tents with no people. I set up the tent figuring I'd have some company that night. Nope. I collapsed at about 7:30 after my day of hiking the hills! I woke up briefly at about 10 when I heard them, but never did see anyone!
Travel stories and the occasional rantings of an evolving cynic who's simply in search of a little human authenticity. Tales include hitching across the Rockies with an eventual cop-killer, a weekend with a terminally-ill billionaire, meeting my siblings for the first time, trips to Mexico, and scores of random people from Mass.-Slab City-Chiapas who are often even more interesting...for better or worse!
Showing posts with label Golden Gate Bridge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Golden Gate Bridge. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
6/24/08: Escape From San Francisco
Got up rather early and sent out MORE Couchsurfing requests to see if I could indeed extend my time in SF, got a shower, packed, and hit the streets. I decided to go check out the Castro District and Haight/ Ashbury: two of the things I missed on out last trip in '03.
The Castro was pretty neat; VERY gay! Haight- Ashbury: a disappointment. Commercial. I managed to chat up a panhandler while I was there, for about an hour, then took some pics of the houses of the Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin.
From there it was pretty obvious from my repeated checking of emails that I was NOT going to find a Couchsurf... in San Francisco! How lame. I decided to start walking toward the Golden Gate Bridge and sniff out bus routes. When I got to Golden Gate Park, I stopped in to the Visitors Center to get some info, then continued thru the park to Fulton, then intended to catch a bus at Park- Presidio to get to the bridge and hoof across.
It was about then that I discovered I no longer had my wallet! I began to think all sorts of evil thoughts and realized that I must've left it at that Visitor Center, so I turned around and double timed it to the best of my ability with Mr. Hefty on my back, and got back there 2 miles later to find my ugly wallet safe and sound.
This was about the time I really began to seriously consider ending this little adventure. I believe, no, I KNOW, that if that wallet hadn't been found, that would have been it. San Francisco, rather than being enjoyable turned out to be a drain, and completely took me out of my element. I dislike cities, with the exception of Denver, intensely. People refuse to look you in the eye! Ugh!
I started back toward the bridge with my wallet safely tucked in my pocket, and this time went down Balboa St. thru what I believe were the Russian and Korean parts of San Fran. I do like that aspect of the city; distinct neighborhoods.
Eventually I re- found Park Presidio and caught my bus, feeling exhausted. Thankfully it took me directly to the Golden Gate Bridge, and I prepared to get across.
Walking the bridge should have been more enjoyable- I remember thinking this, although it was nice. I took a ton of pictures and felt a sense of accomplishment as I crossed into Northern California. It's just under a mile across, and must have taken me a good hour with all the stops for pics. When I got across, I stopped into the same Vista Point Laina and I had visited in 2003, and just hung out-- half hoping I'd find inspiration or a ride... or both!
Eventually it became time to find a place to sleep and as I was hunting around I spotted a woods on the other side of the 101; the beginning of what I learned was the Marin Headlands. I hiked over there and discovered something called the California Coast Trail; something I'd never heard of. I also found a place to throw down the pad & sleeping bag with a full view of the SF skyline as the sun went down. I plopped down, the wind began to howl so I bundled up, ate my pathetic excuse for a supper and chatted with Laina about what I should do. Turns out, finding that trail was just what I needed. Plus, I asked myself if I would turn down the opportunity to meet Florian and his family if I had known they were going to come along. I answered of course not! And it made me remember that there were more experiences lying ahead if I pushed on. Sometimes my mind is the hardest battle to fight, and this particular lesson would pay dividends down the road.
***Not only in the short term, but THIS specific decision to persevere and continue on would reverberate and serve as a personal reminder of why I should push forward for years to come. In fact, it still does to this day. As you read on and the events further down this road continue to play out, and do they ever, periodically imagine me ending this trip here. I did! There's one event in particular that, had I quit, never happens and completely changes the scope of the following summer in general and eliminates Andre in particular: one of the most profound experiences of any trip I've ever taken. Anywhere. ***
I bedded down in another spot a bit more shielded from the wind and got to bed pretty late.
The Castro was pretty neat; VERY gay! Haight- Ashbury: a disappointment. Commercial. I managed to chat up a panhandler while I was there, for about an hour, then took some pics of the houses of the Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin.
From there it was pretty obvious from my repeated checking of emails that I was NOT going to find a Couchsurf... in San Francisco! How lame. I decided to start walking toward the Golden Gate Bridge and sniff out bus routes. When I got to Golden Gate Park, I stopped in to the Visitors Center to get some info, then continued thru the park to Fulton, then intended to catch a bus at Park- Presidio to get to the bridge and hoof across.
It was about then that I discovered I no longer had my wallet! I began to think all sorts of evil thoughts and realized that I must've left it at that Visitor Center, so I turned around and double timed it to the best of my ability with Mr. Hefty on my back, and got back there 2 miles later to find my ugly wallet safe and sound.
This was about the time I really began to seriously consider ending this little adventure. I believe, no, I KNOW, that if that wallet hadn't been found, that would have been it. San Francisco, rather than being enjoyable turned out to be a drain, and completely took me out of my element. I dislike cities, with the exception of Denver, intensely. People refuse to look you in the eye! Ugh!
I started back toward the bridge with my wallet safely tucked in my pocket, and this time went down Balboa St. thru what I believe were the Russian and Korean parts of San Fran. I do like that aspect of the city; distinct neighborhoods.
Eventually I re- found Park Presidio and caught my bus, feeling exhausted. Thankfully it took me directly to the Golden Gate Bridge, and I prepared to get across.
Walking the bridge should have been more enjoyable- I remember thinking this, although it was nice. I took a ton of pictures and felt a sense of accomplishment as I crossed into Northern California. It's just under a mile across, and must have taken me a good hour with all the stops for pics. When I got across, I stopped into the same Vista Point Laina and I had visited in 2003, and just hung out-- half hoping I'd find inspiration or a ride... or both!
Eventually it became time to find a place to sleep and as I was hunting around I spotted a woods on the other side of the 101; the beginning of what I learned was the Marin Headlands. I hiked over there and discovered something called the California Coast Trail; something I'd never heard of. I also found a place to throw down the pad & sleeping bag with a full view of the SF skyline as the sun went down. I plopped down, the wind began to howl so I bundled up, ate my pathetic excuse for a supper and chatted with Laina about what I should do. Turns out, finding that trail was just what I needed. Plus, I asked myself if I would turn down the opportunity to meet Florian and his family if I had known they were going to come along. I answered of course not! And it made me remember that there were more experiences lying ahead if I pushed on. Sometimes my mind is the hardest battle to fight, and this particular lesson would pay dividends down the road.
***Not only in the short term, but THIS specific decision to persevere and continue on would reverberate and serve as a personal reminder of why I should push forward for years to come. In fact, it still does to this day. As you read on and the events further down this road continue to play out, and do they ever, periodically imagine me ending this trip here. I did! There's one event in particular that, had I quit, never happens and completely changes the scope of the following summer in general and eliminates Andre in particular: one of the most profound experiences of any trip I've ever taken. Anywhere. ***
I bedded down in another spot a bit more shielded from the wind and got to bed pretty late.
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