I’ve known for a while that one of these days I’d be crossing the Golden Gate Bridge for the last time. I’ve traversed the Golden Gate countless times – mostly on my bike – but also in my car and sometimes on foot (a la bootcamp at 6a.m.) over the last five years and somehow the International Orange never ceases to inspire me. At first it was annoyingly cliché to be so awed by such a well-known landmark, but I quickly got over it. What can I say? The Golden Gate Bridge is magnificent. In fact, for someone wanting to make a dramatic exit, crossing the Golden Gate Bridge is not a bad way to go.
After a hearty, home-cooked breakfast with Elizabeth’s family, she and I headed back North, passing through San Francisco one last time. We stopped for my “final supper” in the Marina of all places, simply because Chestnut Street was the only place I felt comfortable leaving my overstuffed car parked for any length of time. (Keep in mind that at this point my little Integra had ALL of my valuable possessions in it. My passport, my social security card, the title to my car, my birth certificate. It also had both my bikes suspiciously strapped to a jerry-rigged roof rack I had bought off craigslist the day before from an OCD* eco tour operator in Oakland. *See Mieke for testimony on the OCD. “Good job. Good job.”) To satisfy Elizabeth’s quest to find a vegetable smoothie, we inadvertently stumbled into The Plant which happened to be the perfect final SF lunch spot. The menu consisted of a diverse array of organic and locally grown of salads, soups, sandwiches and yes, bizarre concoctions of liquefied kale, beet and other crunchy veggies I’m not entirely convinced should be drunk. Our bellies full of nutrition, we hit the road. This time it was for keeps.
About half way across the bridge I yelped, causing Elizabeth some alarm. How could I have forgotten the music? I grabbed my ipod and scrolled to “Over & Out,” the official playlist of my SF exodus. But even with Whitesnake blaring in the background, I couldn’t quite wrap my brain around what I was leaving behind. With Elizabeth in the car with me, it just seemed like a fun road trip up to Seattle. Not, “OMG I’m driving away from my life and everything I know.” I shrugged and figured that I either had made the best decision of my life, or that the demons would eventually catch up with me. Either way, in this moment everything was... perfect, really.
It wasn’t that far into Marin county that we diverged off the playlist and started playing the DJ game as only you can do with someone you’ve known all your life. Since Elizabeth didn't have a particular music genre in mind, I just told her to pick any song she wanted to hear. After running through some classics, we finally got down to business.
“What about that song that was playing in Family Ties when Michael J. Fox was breaking up with his girlfriend? That was his girlfriend in real life, you know.”
I grinned. How could I not have one of the songs that seemed to unlock the mysteries of our sixth grade ideal of love? Billy Vera crooned and we both sang along. We were in Arcata before we knew it.
Stopping to stroll among the redwoods.
Afternoon siesta on a beautiful (and windy) beach.
Cafe au lait in Arcata.
No comments:
Post a Comment