Today has been a driving day, and though the scenery eventually got all amazing n shit, the early one-two punch of crawling Sacramento-side traffic (people leaving for a three-day ______ Chavez weekend?) and asshole drivers took its toll on our enthusiasm for the day. Eating sushi in stop and go traffic reminescent of Washington DC at rush hour, tempers and frustration rising – not even the cool mountain air of Northern California did much to restore our Love of travel.
I’m writing from somewhere just past the Donner Pass where we thought about food and then didn’t. We must be just about to cross into Nevada, which will make for yet another new state under our belt, and we’re making our way to a coffeehouse which I have high hopes for. (ooh, there it is! Happy Nevada!!!)
Yesterday was a real sight-seeing day, cramming San Francisco and its environs into a few cramped hours, we know we didn’t see nearly enough, but we just what we thought were the important bits!
First we hit up the Winchester Mystery House and peered excitedly at its gift shop, but monetary and schedule constraints kept us moving.
Then we drove north-east AROUND San Francisco to come around to the northern side to see the Muir Woods National Park to get Heather’s desired redwood visit down. We were properly amazed and stunned, and responding to my earlier Journal entry, Heather remarked that THESE were the TRUE American cathedrals… certainly many of them are older than Christianity, but I don’t think they truly compete with the beauties of the Badlands, which are just as alive and more majestic and a whole lot warmer (I mean, if we’re worshipping in other churches shouldn’t we be getting USED to Hell?).
The tiny twisting roads of northern San Francisco engulf us as we wander the coastline trying to find our way back to the city… looming from around mountain tops comes the Golden Gate Bridge, unbelievable and orange like a bad matte painting, and soon we find ourselves approaching San Francisco over the single most jumped-off bridge in the world. Fortunately I’m distracted by the scenery and not feeling sensitive at all or I’d have noticed we were surrounded by the spirits of suicides.
Before the open mic for the evening, Heather wants to check out a bookstore just outside China Town called City Lights – but unbeknownst to her, I have another agenda. Fortunately, as navigator I have a pretty free hand when it comes to tricking Heather into going interesting places, and as she’s fighting with the stickshift and struggling admirably with the terrain of San Francisco, the only warning she has of Lombard Street is a very curvy sign and a 5mph speed limit. Before cresting the hill she asks “is this the street where they have all the car chases?” and then “oh HEEEELLLL NO!!!” But she rises to the challenge and navigates the curviest street of any city on Earth with panache and a minimum of yelling.
In China Town we find parking and an awesome dinner of pho and squid and with full bellies we wander further… City Lights was a gorgeous condensed den of artists’ memoirs and poetry. Their science fiction section was sadly limited (though they had a pretty cool sci-fi quotes book) and I understood that this was Heather’s land and not a place for a rob on pilgrimage or even on holiday. Heather, however, has found her heaven and wanders from shelf to shelf in wonder even as I begin to semi-panic over the lack of public restrooms.
Just as we’re on our way out, poor and therefore intelligently empty-handed, we run across afamiliar name – Zak Smith. His book has been published and it’s on the wall before us and $40 or no, we’d sat in his bedroom surrounded by these paintings as he was working on this project. We go further into the red and take home a huge book from an old friend from high school.
It had to be done.
Off to our open mic.
Our open mic turned out to be SO artistic that it didn’t actually happen. Heather and I joined up with our friend Joe Hickey at a Bay Area Regional Commuter station where a street-corner open mic was supposed to occur and totally failed to end up playing any music. Not wanting to end such a great day on such a down note, we snuffled around for something not-alcohol-related and not-loud to hang out at for a little while. we all ended up at a bakery eating Mexican pastries to late in the night, talking of travels and mastering.
The open mic probably wouldn’t have been much better.
