An Epic Journey, A Modern Quest Part 2

We woke up around dinnertime. If you didn’t know this about me already, you should: I really only take 3 hour naps. And it seems as though it’s rubbed off on Megan. ☺ We awoke rested and rejuvenated, but, unfortunately, it was STILL raining. We went and got dinner at the cafeteria style dining where we recalled events of the day and laughed heartily. Being in Yosemite was refreshing and allowed each of us to truly relax and just enjoy life as it was happening around us. A woman at the table next to us commented: “It’s so nice to hear such joyous laughter!” Did she mean my hyena laugh? Sweet. From there we went to the Ahwahnee Hotel, which is where Megan worked the summer that she stayed at Yosemite. This is one classy hotel. Actually, the juxtaposition it is extremely bizarre to me, this luxurious hotel ($450/room/night minimum) is situated in the valley amidst camping areas and hiking trails and our little tent cabins. Regardless, it was a cool place. The dining room looks like the one at Hogwarts. We ended up in the bar listening to live piano with a glass of port and a slice of cheesecake. That is The Life. Interestingly, when the pianist took a break he came up to chat with us—Megan was wearing a UGA Ultimate hoodie that I sold her (to raise money for my team) and this guy actually had attended school in Atlanta. He ended up chatting it up with us for a little while and talking all about how this was the best poppy season in years, and that we should be sure to take a gander at them on our way home. He loved that we were from San Francisco. On his days off, he usually drives to the city (a mere 4 hours…). Nearing the end of our drinks and dessert we heard rumors of a weather change: snow in the morning in the valley. The last thing we wanted was to be stuck there and miss work on Monday—that happened on our trip to Atlanta just a few weeks ago! The report said snow would fall in the valley around 11 am Sunday morning—though the concierge seemed a little skeptical about the report, he thought that it would fall sooner. We left the hotel and realized that the temperature had dropped significantly, and, not to worry, it was STILL raining. At this point it was dark. Megan and I briefly entertained the idea of driving home that evening, but then realized that would be more ridiculous and more dangerous. So we played a round of cribbage—no skunking! And then we fell asleep.

I awoke confused around 4 am. I could not figure out why I had woken up. I lay there for a few minutes, and then I heard an odd sound: no loud rain drops, instead soft ones—hardly raindrops at all! Then I heard the sound that must have caught my attention despite my sleeping: a loud sliding sound from our canvas roof down the side of the canvas walls. Megan awoke. I realized that it must be snow! I announced my revelation, and together we layered ourselves and cautiously opened the door. At 4 am, everything was already dusted in 2-3 inches of snow. Megan groaned with disappointment (she feared getting home) while I laughed with glee! I love snow!!! We decided to venture to the bathroom, potentially the other reason that we both awoke. It was gorgeous; the snow was still coming down full force. We had planned to get up early to miss the mini blizzard, but clearly that was no longer possible. I turned off my alarm and we settled back into our sleeping bags comfortably. Around 9 am people around us started stirring. I was so anxious to see how much snow had fallen; Megan was anxious as well, but in an entirely different way. I opened the door to discover a good 4-5 inches on our stairs, and we were under tree cover. A good 6-8 inches had probably fallen! In the bathroom, I managed to wash my hairs and dry my face, but Megan had already sprinted (so it seemed) back to the tent to begin packing up. By the time I got there, she was headed out the door to investigate the car. I packed up most of the rest of our things and ventured to the car. I got there and found that my car had a high and tight haircut, but Megan was nowhere to be found. So, I took out my camera and started enjoying the scene. The snow was coming down full-force. I got my camera out just in time as Megan came back with the last load from the tent.






She didn’t even consider breakfast as we headed for the park entrance. I made her slow down for a few shots though. I have several more pictures that I took with my SLR, but I have yet to get those developed. As we approached the park exit, we saw a ranger vehicle, and we saw the sign: “Chains Required or Snow Tires and 4-Wheel drive OK”. We rolled down the window and he explained that we would have to go back to the “garage” to buy chains and have them installed before we would be allowed to leave. I loved the excitement of it all. Plus, Megan had rushed and not allowed me to enjoy the snow as much as I wanted, but now there was little excuse—we weren’t going to get anywhere fast. There was a line to buy chains. $70 later, we decided to skip the installation and get some breakfast—we were both getting grumpy from a lack of food. Not to worry! Yosemite comes through again with some amazing Velvetta croissant sandwich thingies that nearly cause Megan to barf. It’s been such a lovely morning for her…

We finished up and headed back to the garage to get the chains installed on my tires. Unfortunately, the line was long—and extremely slow moving. Here is a little video I took as we were waiting.
Clearly, it was snowing still. However, the longer we waited, the more the sky was clearing! This was great for my picture taking and the ability to see how gorgeous Yosemite could be! As the last car in line for the installation process, we finally got into the garage. They hiked up the car and then closed the garage door behind my car—this made the very clear statement that was being echoed by the clear sky: no more chains would be necessary in order to drive out of the park. Grr…luckily (maybe this isn’t really the right term) we had another problem: my car smelled like gasoline. It was bad. Anytime you turned on the ventilation system (to, you know, defrost the windshield) it stunk! While waiting in line we had determined that it was better to be cold than to inhale those fumes. Bummer. They popped the hood and poked around a little bit, but nothing could be found EXCEPT: a multitude of ants. They are potentially the reason that Megan and I have been discovering little bites on our bodies lately—Side note: Megan and I have been continually waking up with bug bites. At first we thought it was her bed. So we stayed at my place for a couple days in a row, then we thought it was my place. We cleaned. We itched. I realized that I had been finding like one token ant each time I got in my car, but there was by no means any sort of cause for alarm. I mean, I would kill the token one each time so as to reduce the gross factor, but I didn’t notice an infestation. The likelihood that one ant each car ride was managing to bite each of us multiple times on some regular basis is absurd. Or it seemed absurd until this guy popped the hood. Ants were swarming on my battery and on the vents. The good car owner that I am, I closed the hood and haven’t actually thought of it much again since. Well, until yesterday when I got back from driving myself home from the train station: there was an ant on my hand. He had managed to hang on to me for a good while, so it seems that we may have discovered the source of the bites. Back to the story at hand: we shut the hood and vibrated down the street with our new chains. We made it to the park entrance/exit where there was no longer a park ranger, of course. Then we headed down out of the park. After about 3 bumpy miles, we stopped and took the unnecessary chains off. I guess it’s kind of nice that I have them now that we are heading into summer…

The drive home was pretty, though it was longer than either of us wanted it to be. Unfortunately, it was raining a little so the poppies were not out in full force.

All in all, I loved my inaugural Yosemite trip. There are many more adventures to come!

An Epic Journey, A Modern Quest Part 1

Megan and I ventured to Yosemite last weekend for a few days in the mountains. It is one of her favorite places in the world, and I couldn’t wait to be outdoors for some hiking. Unfortunately, about 3 days before departing I discovered that the weather forecast was less than favorable. Rain was predicted for most of Saturday, and Sunday it was likely to snow! We over-packed appropriately. We left Friday night around 8pm, trying to let the traffic die down prior to heading over the Bay Bridge. We rolled into the park around 11:45 pm or so. It was a dark night, but it was clear. Once Megan and I were officially in the valley, she pulled off to the side of the road and turned off the headlights. Despite the darkness, we could see El Capitain looming ahead of us, and off to the right, more gigantic-ness. I immediately identified with someone who said that Yosemite made them feel claustrophobic, but it was night. I wasn’t going to draw any conclusions in the dark.

We checked in, and it was then that I realized the real danger that is bear country. There’s a video that plays looped within the check-in station 24 hours a day. It shows bears crawling into and out of cars that have been smashed and ravaged for food. First lesson: leave nothing in the car. Second lesson: leave nothing (food, toiletries) in the tent cabin either, duh! If you can’t leave it in the car, surely you don’t want to leave it in the canvas and wood structure where you will be sleeping! There are metal cubbies outside each tent cabin for the storage of whatever it is that you managed to bring. Megan failed to debrief me on this part, so I had to do a quick little cleaning of the car, which probably should have happened prior to our departure from the city.

After navigating some muddy areas with our one headlamp (Megan also forgot to mention that I might want to bring mine—slash, maybe this should have been intuitive.) Regardless, we made it to the bathroom and back and bedded down, exhausted. We awoke the next morning, or rather, I awoke the next morning around 8 am having to pee. I snuck out and took a gander at my surroundings. WOW. The shapes of the previous night were no longer hulking and oppressive, but more magnificent and impressive. I took a little walk to see what I could see before I wondered back to the cabin to wake Megan. We lay around until around 9:30 am (I mean, it was the weekend, after all) and then we dressed for the day and set out for some food. Megan managed to procure food vouchers (unbeknown to both of us), and we were stoked about some free breakfast. Unfortunately, as is often the case, the free breakfast was less than impressive and included a cake-like “muffin” and an orange and no cappuccino or café au lait ☹




Did I mention that it was already raining? Staring up at the North Dome and what we could see of Half Dome, one had to blink away the steady drops falling from the sky. After our delicious breakfast, Megan proposed that we hike to Vernal Falls. Since I didn’t know anything about anything and since Megan had spent an entire summer working in the valley, I agreed without much question. The hike was supposed to be pretty easy, and it wasn’t the hardest hike I’ve ever done—by a long stretch—however, it is difficult and frustrating to hike up steep grades and try to enjoy yourself when it’s pouring. There’s a picture of Megan with my camera (in it’s bag) under her rain jacket. This marks the point of the journey when it started hailing.
We started to catch glimpses of the falls after most of the steep climbs (did I mention the path was paved?). The falls were gorgeous and Megan was surprised by how much water was coming down, apparently there’s a lot less water in the summer. The paved path ended shortly after we saw the first view of the falls. Important side note: upon leaving our tent cabin that morning, we encountered a ranger-like woman who was cleaning up any recently vacated cabins. She asked what we were up to for the day, and we disclosed that a hike would be in order, despite the weather. She mentioned that the trail to the top of Vernal Falls was closed, but that if you went just beyond the gate, you could go out to “Photographers’ Rock” and find some good views of the falls. Thus, once we made it to the end of the paved trail and the next part of the hike was blocked by a sign, which read “Trail Closed for Winter”, we promptly walked around the sign. It wasn’t like we were the only ones. In fact, we saw some of the most inexperienced hikers I have ever seen in my life. Actually, there was a huge range: teenage girls in spandex and fashionable boots (or at least they were fashionable before they became water-logged), Asian women in the tiniest most unsupportive little flats, “cool” guys in jeans and t-shirts (did I mention it was pouring and about 50 degrees?). Then there was the other extreme: Patagonia-clad middle-agers with ski poles to…help steady them on the pavement? Megan and I were about in the middle of the two extremes. We weren’t fashionable, but we looked pretty good, and we managed to stay mostly dry aside from our running shoes that became totally soaked.


The closer we got to the falls, the more wet it was—and it had actually stopped raining for a few minutes. The falls were giving off an incredible mist. Megan took a picture of the water that was outlining all the tiny little hairs on my face. We could have hiked farther, like all the way to the top, but we were sopping wet, a little cold, and I could feel hunger setting in. We had managed to hike/walk 3 to 5 miles or so before we made it back to the tent area. We bought some snacks to go with the pizza that we had brought with us (and safely stored in the metal cubbies, no worries!) and we also bought a pack of cards. We thawed and dried in our little heated tent as we ate. Afterwards, just before the food coma set in, we played a game of cribbage. I have just learned to play, and Megan has been playing since she was like 2, so I lost, but I’m ok with that because I’m still learning the ropes. Actually, I think she managed to skunk me on this round, which was a little painful on my pride, but I’ve since recovered. Immediately after the game, with heavy raindrops falling loudly on our canvas roof, we settled into a nice afternoon nap.

The Relay.

The Relay.

You’ve heard of Relay for Life, and I bet you’ve heard of Race for the Cure, but have you heard of THE Relay? Ya, I hadn’t either. But now, I’m a part of it. And I’m asking that you think about being a part of it as well.

A couple weeks ago Megan’s roommate, Korin, emailed a bunch of folks solicited a response about participation in this “Relay” – all capitalized and stuff. It was described as a 12-person relay race through some awesome areas around the bay area. I have been looking for a good excuse to get in shape—some motivation. I have temporarily given up ultimate frisbee because it exacerbates my hip injury that started nearly three years ago. (Turns out one-sided sports make injuries really tough). Anyway. A conversation with me with The Relay would have gone something like this:

ME: Wow, this “Relay” thing sounds like a great way for me to get back into running. What is it like?
THE RELAY: Well, I have the largest number of tourist destinations of any run. It goes like this, teams of 12 travel 199 miles through 36 cities including Calistoga, Napa, Sonoma, Marin, Sausalito, San Francisco, Palo Alto, Silicon Valley and across the Golden Gate Bridge under a full moon to the beach in Santa Cruz.
ME: Whoa, my California geography isn’t exactly stellar, but I’d say that’s a pretty good distance. But I guess there will be 12 of us…(my math failed me here, it turns out that 199 miles for 12 peeps means 16.58 miles per person.) And, wait just a second, the moonlight? Are we running through the night??
THE RELAY: Indeed! You start Saturday morning and each person runs his/her legs of The Relay until you finish sometime on Sunday (before 6pm).
ME: Intense! I love it. This must cost something, and is it like a fundraiser or something?
THE RELAY: Yes! It’s about $80/person to run, and then each team must collectively raise $600 to benefit organ donation.
ME: COOL! I just read Stiff, which talks a little bit about organ donation, and I have always been a believer in donating body parts…(Does that sound creepy? It wasn’t meant to, I assure you.) Sweet! I’m in!!!

So, ya, it went something like that. And now I’m racing (pun intended) to get in shape. I think this is good for me, and I’m already enjoying the challenge. The thing is, this Relay is coming up pretty soon! Like, it’s May 2-3. So far, I can run about 4 miles on hilly terrain without stopping. Each runner runs 3 legs and mine are legs 12, which is 4.8 miles and labeled “hard,” leg 24, which is 5.9 miles “moderate” and leg 36, which (if you do the math here: 12 runners, 3 legs each…) finishes the race with 4.7 miles “easy.” So, I guess I am doing ok, I mean, I only have to run 15.4 miles total, which is less than the average.

Please, think about donating to my team—we are called “Cage Free Dozen” and we have a pretty sweet t-shirt design (pictures will follow once the shirts are made). If you wish to donate, and, believe me, I know these are hard times, but even $5 or $10 will make a difference. Visit our fundraising website (specifically for the Cage Free Dozen). And if you are interested in more about The Relay, please visit their site.
Thank you in advance!!!!

New Apartment, UCSF Interviewing

Oh dear, I guess it’s been a while…but here I am: enjoying life in California. I have been out of touch for several reasons, many of which I will delineate here.

A of all) I moved. I have moved twice since I last wrote, but now I am FINALLY in a permanent place. I was living in Palo Alto originally when I moved. Then in October I moved up into the city (San Francisco) with Megan. It was a little overwhelming living with her in her 4-person apartment. Turns out, we weren’t ready for that, and I was definitely ready for my own space. So, in November I moved in with 3 random guys only a few blocks from where Megan lives. It was great except for the fact that on my move in day I was nearly asphyxiated with pot smoke. By that I mean, the smell of it now reminds me of that month living there… Anywho, I posted some of the pictures of that place on my fb page. But here's one:




















So, now for the part we have all been waiting for: my NEW and FANCY place on Treat Avenue!!!! The pictures are less than stellar…turns out my camera is having a little trouble activating the flash.



The apartment is located in the Mission not far from where I was living in November. I’m still not too far from where Megan lives, and I live in a residential area closer to an area of the city that is still pretty new for me (meaning, I don’t have any other friends that live here, so I don’t know the area too well yet.) But there are some things that are completely lovable: Philz Coffee (about a block and a half away) is an amazing coffee shop where they brew each cup of coffee singularly once you order it. They even doctor it for you, and then you test it before leaving to make sure it’s Exactly what you wanted. Chances are, it’s more than what you bargained for—in a good way! The coffee lacks any acidic flavor. I was assured on my first cup that I would never view coffee the same after this one cup. It’s pretty true. Little did I know then, it was Phil who had made my cup of coffee. Since, I’ve been a little obsessed, but it’s wonderful. I even took some pictures inside once. Amazing experience.

The other amazing part of my new living situation is my roommates. I met Amanda through Megan because they played Ultimate together this past summer. Amanda was someone whom I immediately liked, and when she mentioned she was interested in moving, and interested in living with me, I was STOKED. She mentioned that she had a friend, Nick, who was also interested in moving. Then he wanted to balance the genders, so Jude got in on the mix. They are fantastic, exciting, funny, and very environmentally conscious. We “let it mellow, when it’s yellow”, we recycle, we are trying to make composting happen. We, well they, shop pretty locally, and I’m becoming convinced. This leads me to my next point: we live a half block away from a main street in the Mission, 24th. There are several veggie stands, which remind me of my deficiency in Spanish, but that supply yummy ripe tomatoes and avocadoes! I also recently found a liquor store within walking distance with a decent selection of wine and good beer. If you haven’t tried Dogfish Head’s 90 Minute IPA, you should. Well, maybe not if you don’t like beer, but even still. Think about it. Anyway...here's a picture of the four of us Amanda, Jude, Nick, and me at a protest for Prop 8 or Prop H8. Equal rights, freaks!

B of all) I’ve been applying to school. Reminder: I’m applying to grad school for Physical Therapy to obtain my DPT. I applied to UCSF/SFSU (University of California at San Francisco and San Francisco State University, a joint program), MGH (Bostonian school), and University of Washington. So far, I have had an interview at UCSF. It was actually January 24th. I was freaking out. However, I had dinner prior to the interview with a friend through Ultimate, Alex, who is currently in her 2nd year of the 3-year program. She answered a few questions for me, which served to excite me and intimidate me a little. Suffice it to say, I am glad Saturday is over. Saturday morning at 8 am I had to be awake, well dressed, and ready for action. The process began with an overview of the program followed by an essay written on the spot. That was random: the question that NONE of us expected was: "What are your thoughts and ideas about the economic downturn?" Really? They said it would be used in our individual interviews, but my essay was never referenced. I had the 2nd time slot for the interview, which was probably the most optimal time. It was a 2 on 1 interview with a faculty member and a 2nd year student in the program. I was able to chill before hand for about an hour and talk to first years students, which taught me a lot about the integrity of the program. There are only 32 students each year, so you get to be a pretty tightly knit group. And everyone there seems to love the program. Oh, so the breakdown: 200 applicants, 67 of us got invited for interviews, 32 will be admitted, 10 will be put on a waiting list. I will find out sometime in the next 3 weeks. Don't worry, I'm not anxious. I'll leave the specifics for one on one interviews between me and you. I don't want to jinx anything...but I felt pretty confident about it. I thought I answered questions appropriately and even had good (and honest) answers. I even enjoyed it. Crazy.

C of all) I went home for Christmas! If I didn’t see you, I’m sorry. I saw a lot of folks though! I enjoyed my time at home and spent a lot of time with the rents, which was VERY fun. Coming home to Georgia was in interesting experience. I love the people there, the ones I am close to, anyway. I got to see a lot of my closest college friends as we all converged in the ATL area for the holidays—from Kenya, Africa; Washington DC; SF and Santa Barbara, California; Virginia Beach, Virginia; Nashville, Tennessee and Boston, Massachusetts. Since we are so spread out, it’s nice to get back together. I was looking forward to coming back to California, in particular, San Francisco. I adore the city. There is so much going on, some beautiful weather, and a variety of people. It turns out that I’m enjoying my job at the Menlo Park Chamber of Commerce, and I enjoy my commute where I read and make phone calls ☺ Plus, I recently convinced a random guy, who walked into the Chamber to get info on the train, that he should DEFINITELY take public transportation to his new job in SF from Menlo Park. Sometimes it seems overwhelming and more complicated, but it’s going to make a difference in the long run. I drove down to work recently just to be able to be mobile for a dinner date, and I saw three accidents on the way. Plus, it was a stressful ride! Ick!

So, there you have it. That’s mostly what I’ve been up to. Aside from cleaning, decorating, and living in my new apartment, I spend time playing for a Winter League Ultimate team. It’s a league that’s pretty experienced—by that I mean there aren’t any brand new players on the field (there’s a separate league for them, I think). My team is called the Mudslingers, and we have brown jerseys (t-shirts) and some fantastically awkward cheers. We’re pretty good. But we got schooled this week. Then I made a suggestion and in some post “official play” action, we totally kicked ass. HA! I DID learn something from captaining 2 years of college ultimate ☺. I also have begun cooking again, at least a little. I play a little guitar hero. I read. I am part of a lesbian-feminist book club that has lively discussions and reads excellent books. I still babysit for Becky, my mentor in the PT (Physical Therapy) world. I babysat her kids when they lived in Georgia, and now I’m sitting for them out here on the weekends, when I can make the hour drive down to San Jose. Other than that, I work. Well, I guess I also hit a party here and there. I go to some bars. I’m moderately active. Oh! And, I go for some light runs in the city—well, once Megan and I went on a sort of impromptu longish run from her house up to Coit Tower (scroll down and look at some of the pictures). It was a 50 min, one-way adventure. We took BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) back. It was also mildly cold and rainy. Still, all in all, it was a good exploration adventure. I also joined a gym—with Megan’s help ☺. So, we try and work out 2-3 times a week.

I’m pretty happy. I would LOVE to stay in SF for school. It would be my cheapest, best option--pretty much in the nation. The UCSF/SFSU program has one of the highest ranking DPT programs for a public university. UCSF is a pretty incredible place: 9th in the nation as a medical center, in the top 5 as a medical school, number 1 pharmacy school--and the PT students of UCSF take some of the first year classes with 2nd and 3rd year pharmacy students (and repeatedly do better than the pharm students in those classes...). Plus, I would be stoked not to have to move again. I’m pretty happy where I am.

I hope to blog a little more frequently. I would like to post more of my random thoughts about living in the city and experiences I have. This one post has been requested for some time, and I’ve just been terrible about getting around to it. If I haven’t heard from you in a while, I would love to!!!!

Quick Post: Obamaness.

I just want to say that I brought out my computer about an hour ago to post a blog about my apartment and what's going on in my life right now, because, I mean, it's already written, I just need to edit it a little and add some photos (which does take some time...) but INSTEAD I stalked Michelle Obama (and Barack, to some extent) and their family for an hour. They have some fantastically artistic clothing--so colorful and warm and amazing. Sigh...if only I could afford such things. Maybe I have to get to the White House first. Don't worry, that's not an actual aspiration. Too much stress.

Btdubs, if you haven't read this article, you should. I love love. And I love the Obamas. They're real.

You'll hear from me again soon.

BIKING.

In lieu of finding housing, I have taken up biking☺ Megan has been shopping and test riding and comparing prices and calling bike experts like Gordy and Ruth. FINALLY on Saturday morning she made a purchase. It really wasn’t a question of when she was going to buy it this weekend though: it was where. We got up and ventured to a bike shop we hadn’t been to which was recommended by her PT, in another part of the city. I drove because if she made a purchase, I needed to be able to get back home (Megan has a manual, and, no, I still haven’t learned to drive one yet). Anywho…we made it over to Lombardi Sports only to find not-so-knowledgeable sales people, over-priced “beginner road bikes,” and super high-end bikes with price tags soaring well beyond $1500. Megan test road one even though neither of us were stoked about the experience that we were having. Shortly thereafter we made our escape only to find that the trip had cost $50—in a parking ticket. See, in the Mission, where Megan lives there is free parking. You just can’t block a driveway or park on the side of the street where street cleaning will be happening from 7 – 8 am. And on the weekend there isn’t any street cleaning either. The Nob Hill area likes to charge for Saturday parking and will come seek your car out even if you are only parking for a lousy, 30 min Lombardi Sports experience. Boo.

We managed to make it over to Valencia Cyclery where Megan’s dream bike resided. She had tested it time and again, and had fallen in love with it, but she needed to know everything that is available: an informed shopper, that one. Back at in the Mission at VC, we were met by Will, who had helped us/Megan the night before. The bike Megan ended up purchasing is a 2009 Specialized Allez Sport in flat black. It has an aluminum frame with a carbon fork and stay. The components are lower end, but it’s a 9 speed triple, which means that it can be upgraded without too much expense. She/we also fell in love with a TREK 1.2 T (I think?), but it’s 8-speedness meant that an upgrade in components would nearly mean an overhaul because the nicer components are no longer made for 8-speeds. Does it sound like I know what I’m talking about here? I feel like I have a decent idea of what I’m talking about now, after listening to so many bike talks, but I fear that I’m still largely in the dark about the biking world and the wondrous amounts money that can be spent there.

Regardless, we met our goal of a bike ride on Saturday. I was planning on taking her roommate’s bike, however, it was miniature (Korin is not a miniature person, but we aren’t the same size). Thus, I decided to ride Megan’s commuter trail bike. It’s a Specialized from an unknown year with a heavy metal frame, components that work, and original tires that might blow at any time (according to the guy who helped me pump up the nearly flat tires). Together we charted a bike map and took off for Golden Gate Park. Riding a bike there made me realize just how crazy it was that Minkoff and I walked there. What were we thinking? Megan and I rode all the way through the park and out to the ocean. I didn’t touch it this time, but I admired it from afar for sure. The ride back was moderately hilarious as we opted to make a right straight up a hill at one point. Megan powered through the hill, I huffed and puffed my way up. Unfortunately, we got to the top and found that in any given direction we would be going up again: time to resort to the map. We backtracked, though we admittedly were proud of the climb we had just made, even though I felt that my heart my leap from my chest.

Sunday morning Megan and I went to breakfast with some friends who were having a big brunch (to raise money for No on Prop 8). At breakfast, Ness and her friend, Catherine, said they were planning a bike ride for the afternoon. I got excited about exploring with people who knew more what they were doing, and Megan did as well. We all got a later start than we would have liked, but around 3pm we shoved off from the Mission. Our goal: cross the Golden Gate Bridge. The ride started out in regular Market St traffic—slow for biking. We made it to the Embarkadero. Our plan was to ride along it (the edge of the land bordering on the bay) to the Marina and then to cross the bridge there. The Embarkadero proved annoying: the bike lane got little respect, the area was overrun with pedestrians, the smells in the air reminded us of sewage instead of fresh air off the bay. Bummer. Finally we made it to the Marina where the fog had landed. The air cooled a bit. We couldn’t even see the GG Bridge: it was shrouded in fog, not entirely unusual. We rode along the water—I was fascinated by the wind surfers! They speckled the water under the bridge with their colorful little sails. The amount of bodies in the water was mildly disconcerting, but they seemed to know what they were doing. Notice that we were nearly level with the water, watching the surfers. The GG Bridge is not level with the water, in fact, it’s rather high above it. We turned a corner and began our climb. Needless to say, I brought up the rear: did I mention that everyone had a road bike except me? Ness also recently invested in clip-ins, which made her climb even easier. We were all a little jealous. Finally we found ourselves on the bridge! It was exhilarating even though you felt like you were floating through the air—even seeing down to the water was a challenge through the fog! As we neared the other shore, the sun broke free of the clouds. I was stoked to soak it up.

I was relieved when Ness suggested that we venture down the hill back to the water level and stop for dinner/a beer in Sausalito and take the ferry back to the other side. My legs were near cramping after the recent climb. Plus, I was a little chilly. We cruised down a windy road that delivered us into the adorable waterfront in Sausalito. We smelled pizza and allowed our noses to lead us to where our empty tanks could be refueled. Sitting there on the street, we managed to do some people watching: a Rolls Royce was parked directly in front of us. The owner came out, got in on the right side of the car. He was also asked of the car’s year as he settled into his seat: “This is a ’54.” Wow. Impressive. The car was in pristine condition. After the diversion and refueling, we realized that we were all quite cold. We discussed our options. We decided that an efficient stop at Starbucks for hot chocolate would allow us to digest and warm up. Then we would attempt to ride back across the bridge—somewhat to my dismay. However, the ferry ride would have been mighty chilly… The climb back up to the bridge was brutal. Catherine and I struggled in the back as Ness and Megan pulled away. I was grateful for Catherine’s company, without which I might have not completed the hill on the bike. And then, my pride would have been hurt. The rest of our ride was moderately chilly and was punctuated by Megan wanting to take full advantage of her bike speeding ahead on a straight away, and Ness having a little trouble with clipping out before a painfully slow fall. But, really, what owner of clip-ins hasn’t done that?

The remainder of the trip was a little bit of a struggle because none of us wanted to battle any more hills as we made our way back through the city to our respective places of residence—especially in the dark with a decent amount of traffic. We were moderately unprepared for our epic journey: only Ness had bike lights, no one had warm enough clothing (though no one froze because of the hills). Overall, we had a great ride. I think we were all satisfied—and quite tired when we returned. We might become a gang...

Hardly Strictly...Fun.

More eons have passed...but I'm still alive and kicking! My trip back east was wonderful! I want to do an entire post separately about it with pictures included. Look out for that at some point.

I have arrived back in California. I almost didn't realize how much I missed it until I left for nearly 3 weeks. Coming back was both exciting and lonely. I really did have a great time at home in ALPH, ATL, and Athens. When I came back, I celebrated my 24th birthday. I planned not to work, so Megan and I had breakfast together that morning, then she headed off to work. I scanned craigslist for a while looking for a place to live--OH, I came home and found that a couple of people who play ultimate and some who don't are looking for some housing. I'm going to team up with them and look for a place. I'm stoked about having people that I know to live with! Also, I'm no longer looking in Menlo Park, where I work. I started looking at prices and realized that it's not any more expensive to live in the city, and, let's be honest, the city is really where I want to be. Most people that I have met live in the city, Megan's in the city, the school I want to go to is in the city...plus, I have the best job ever to commute to, it's literally a stop for Caltrain.

But back to my birthday celebration: I spent the morning online, then Gordy chatted me wanting to know if I was up in the city. We met up a little after lunch and went to Dolores Park. It was a beautiful fall day and the fresh air (minus eastern humidity) reminded me of Italy. I have some amazing memories of my semester there. We swang in the park, then made a stop at a popular ice cream place. They had some crazy flavors, very sophisticated. We loved it. We weren't sure what our next move was...it was early in the afternoon and neither of us had plans until the evening. Gordy asked me if I was up for a walk. I replied that I thought so...not knowing that she had quite the hike in mind. We walked through the Mission up towards the residential area. This is the area that I don't consider very PC, it's entirely NOT handicap friendly. If you were to try to wheelchair around this area, you would go flying down a hill and probably have a near-death experience. Anywho, we climbed and climbed, Gordy apologized along the way, she didn't remember the terrain that it was necessary to scale to get to our destination. However, our efforts were rewarded. We made it to the top of some rocks and got a spectacular view of the city. If you scroll down and look at the main picture here, we were on that brown bit of land in the center of the photograph. The view was amazing. The wind was also impressive, it cooled us after our lengthy hike. From there we toured parts of the city I had yet to visit. Overall, the afternoon was the perfect way to spend my birthday--thanks, Gordy!!! That night, Megan took me to a restaurant in North Beach. It was the first time I had been to that part of the city. They had a vast selection of beer and I had rabbit stew that was FANTASTIC! (Megan's chicken stew wasn't too shabby, either). The place is called La Trappe. If you ever get a chance to go, I think it comes highly recommended by both Megan and me. I guess at this point though I should also give a shout out to our favorite bar in the Mission: The Monk's Kettle. It's an amazing joint, if you come to visit me, you can almost be positive that I'll take you there, unless you are Robin and don't like beer. They have a lengthy beer menu and a warm, endearing atmosphere. They also have great food! Megan and I rave about it constantly. I tried to take my friend Sarah Minkoff there last night, and we took a tour of the Mission before arriving, but I think I have it down now. Sorry, Minkoff.

So, Minkoff came into town for this bluegrass festival in Golden Gate Park. It was called the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival. It's always free, and I'm told that it's usually as amazing as I found it today. Minkoff and I made the trek there on foot from Megan's apt, which was a good 2.5 miles--and that was just to get to the eastern side of the park, the festival was a good mile in. But it was worth it. We enjoyed every detail of the experience. The walk there was invigorating on the sunny, windy fall day in the city. We made an early stop on Valencia for some breakfast, which was lovely. But our first find was an abandoned toilet on the sidewalk (look out for a facebook profile picture...). As we photographed me squatting on it, a man walking by nearly doubled over in laughter, apparently we're hilarious. We walked down Haight St into Lower Haight and I fell in love with the area. It was like walking through downtown Athens for a second. The streets were crowded on this Sunday morning. Once on Oak St, we walked past some pretty fantastic, classic San Francisco homes overlooking a park. We briefly fantasized about living there... Minkoff also noticed the plethora of Obama signs. She immediately made it a goal to try and locate something McCain affiliated.

Once on the park grounds, it was pretty easy to tell where to go: just follow the main flow of traffic, bike and pedestrian. On our walk, we passed the Flower Conservatory, a stark white building in a plush landscape complete with a gator made of flowers (Minkoff had to take a photo, she's a University of Florida graduate, it's in her blood or something). After a few more yards, we heard some music. Sarah noted that we must be on the right track! But then we actually heard the music that was playing: 80s rock. Suddenly on our right we saw a collection of roller skaters dancing/skating on a paved area just off the street. I think it's safe to say that we slowed our clip just to take it all in. A little farther down we encountered more music, this was more in the way of swing music. In another paved area we saw couples--of all ages--dancing. We had to stop to watch this. We located some signs: Free Swing Lessons every Sunday at noon. Huh, who knew?? The rest of our walk was filled with interestingly dressed people and people with babies strapped to them.

Finally, our ears were being filled with bluegrass, like actual bluegrass music where the woman singing was occasionally hitting a note on pitch...we moved along. The set up was impressive. There were 5 stages separated by landforms that helped to block the music of one stage from another. We picked up a schedule and headed towards Ben Kweller's performance on the Star Stage. It was quite enjoyable. We settled in on the grass, claiming our spot in the sun, and then we proceeded to people watch. It was highly entertaining. The drunkenness was just beginning for most. We could smell pot in the air. The stage announcers asked that you step outside the stage areas to smoke cigarettes, but that if you had medicinal marijuana, you could smoke wherever you needed to...ah, California:)

Eventually, we left in search of Golden Gate Portables (port-a-potties) and food. The array of food was impressive and moderately priced. We grazed on a hill in the shade and prepared for Iron & Wine's show. We clearly ate too slowly (well, we got caught up watching the entirely velour-clad woman climb the hill, the babies next to us "jogging", etc.). We bought one of the best brownies I've probably ever eaten (peanut butter!) and began to look for a place to settle down. Unfortunately, the entire area was COVERED with people. We got into a slowly moving line headed towards the stage. I occasionally found myself paralyzed listening to the music, which began shortly after we joined the line. I had to shake myself back into the reality of the thousands of people around me. Somehow Minkoff and I managed to walk up to some people on a blanket as they were leaving. They just walked off without their wonderful blanket--which claimed an enormous amount of space. We quickly decided to squat, thinking that the worst outcome would be getting kicked off upon the couple's return, but there was no way that would happen for at least 30 mins with the way the crowd was moving in. We lay down and enjoyed the music and the 2 year old behind us who repeatedly held threatening pine cones over Minkoff's face. The parents were embarrassed, but the kid was just loving the attention. After stumbling through some songs, the show came to a close--though it was a VERY good show. Samuel Beam was hilarious with little comments regardless of his inability to get through a couple songs without stopping to recall the words. Please, if you have never heard of Iron & Wine, do yourself a favor and listen to some of the music. Here's the Iron & Wine bio from the festival: "Iron & Wine is the musical project of Sam Beam, originally from South Carolina. When soft became the new loud in indie circles a few years ago, Iron & Wine quickly stepped ahead of the pack as the most arresting of the new-folk artists. The music is morose and mysterious, with impressively layered harmonies and instrumentation." Love it.

We had to make a bathroom stop again. This time the people in line were less polite and much more drunk. One man came in and cut in line, an older man who was about to take that bathroom tried to wrestle him out. Unfortunately, the drunken man won as he nearly fell into the portable. He was greeted with shouts of profanity and boos when he opened the door to leave. The entertainment was endless.

With darkness approaching and Minkoff's drive back to Davis ahead of her, we decided to hit the road. We stopped at a few stages briefly on the way out. But we soon got back into a good walking pace and left the park. Don't worry, the roller skating rink with the 80s theme was still going strong. Oh, and needless to say, we didn't manage to find a single McCain sticker, poster, t-shirt, etc. It was a good day:)