| Some Mountains, An Ocean, A Sunset, Oh My! |
 I left the office Friday afternoon feeling aimless, since almost all the people I knew in California had up and left for at least the weekend. The feeling was somewhat lonely but at the same time exciting, to know that for the first time I was completely on my own out west and would be entertaining myself for a few days. Having worked all week, I decided to head home and take it easy for a few hours and then perhaps come up with something exciting to do with myself. I eventually dragged myself into the shower and came out looking pretty fancy, so off I went to a club I’d heard about in nearby San Jose. After negotiating for almost 10 minutes with an unexpectedly friendly bouncer who thought my Maryland ID was a fake, I finally talked my way into the place. Maybe I look a little too good for my age? Anyway, the crowd was a little lacking, I thought, for a Friday night, but I had a few good drinks and met an interesting character or two. It was better than sitting by myself at home, I decided. I made it home in the wee hours of the morning and slept later than I had in ages. I awoke around 2 and quite simply, made almost nothing of my day. It was glorious. I gave my car a much needed wash and wax, but other than that it was chilling out with Marilyn and her cats all day, a surprisingly nice departure from my usual full schedule.
Sunday was a different story. With only a limited number of weekends in which to go roaming around this stunningly beautiful and entertaining region, I decided that an adventure was in order. I had spent the last few weekends wandering around amazing San Francisco and I suppose I was read for a nature break. I like to keep a little balance I guess. I called up my friend Ben, who is another intern from RIT with whom I work, and told him I wanted to go hiking and would he like to come along. To my delight, he accepted my invitation and was over about an hour later. We were going to go for a little adventure.
I packed sandwiches, sweatshirts, extra socks, protein bars, and plenty of other survival related items, and off we went, maps in hand. We headed out on 280 for a short while, getting off in the town of Los Altos Hills, a very nice area which is home to many Silicon Valley executives. I filled up the gas tank and we headed west, up into the Santa Cruz Mountains. These are the same wonderful mountains that I described last week after seeing them from the airplane. Wanting to get a better look, I found a road-less-traveled sort of route, courtesy of Google Maps, right over the summit of them, on some streets that turned out to be better suited to bicyclists than two lanes of automobile traffic.
 Uphill we drove, and drove and drove! I was having a wonderful time. I had been on some amazing mountain summit drives with my parents before, and this was beginning to bring back memories. The best part was that this time, I was doing the driving! For those of you who do not know, I am a big fan of motorsports, driving, racing, and cars in general. These steep, narrow, and twisty roads were definitely pushing all the right buttons for me. Now worry not, my dear parents, I was being safe…just enjoying myself a little! When we started to get some real altitude underneath us, I pulled the car over and we got out to turn around and look back. I can’t say that urban sprawl from a distance is the most gorgeous sight on the planet, but I wouldn’t call it ugly either! We could see plenty of lush forest beneath us, as well as the infamous Silicon Valley and more mountains beyond. 
Back in the car, we drove even further upward until our road ended and we found ourselves, courtesy of Google Maps, on an even steeper and more narrow road. This one seemed to be favored by some seriously masochistic bicycle riders. I mean, these people were combating what had to be close to a solid 10% grade for miles and miles, under the beating sun, not to mention all the car exhaust they were breathing as I frighteningly floored it to pass them, in the opposite lane and around blind corners no less! Let me tell you, that gets your juices flowing! And so now you are probably thinking, Michael, they are in good shape and enjoy their long uphill bike rides! Well I have no pictures to prove it, but I would have to say that judging by the faces of these poor people (they did not look happy), they just happened to have all parked their bike-rack-equipped Priuses (Prii?) over the other side of the mountain and now they had to ride up to the top if they were ever going to get home. I should’ve offered one of them a ride just to see what they would’ve said!
 We stopped a couple more times before things started to level off, spotting beautiful and unusual scenery, such as some random people chilling on top of their van, and plenty of wildflowers and gorgeous vistas. Once we had made it over the first ridge, things started to get a lot shadier. And no I don’t mean it was a bad neighborhood, I mean it actually was shady. Can you guess why? Oh yes, you got it, Redwoods! Now it was not a whole forest of them, but there were definitely a few scattered around here and there. We got out and saw a few up close, took pictures, and then moved on. I kinda wanted to save the Redwoods experience for when I am actually in the Redwood forest, someplace I’m sure I’ll get to in another couple weeks or so.
At this point, the road was really getting narrow, and it was so dark that I had to turn my lights on. Mostly so I could spot those pesky bicyclists! In a few spots, it appeared that the California highway people had just giving up trying to paint lines on the road altogether, since it would’ve been rather silly to bother indicating which side of a 6 foot wide strip of pavement motorists should be driving on. I barely made it through when a motorcycle came the other way. Meanwhile, Ben’s Garmin GPS was practically laughing at us for taking the route that we did, repeatedly beckoning us to turn around and save ourselves, in between losing its satellite signal. Eventually, it showed us driving around on no road at all, but rather on top of a nondescript green blob that I assume signified an alternate dimension that I’d somehow driven us into.
 After a few close calls in the Redwood forest with some squirrels and an old Saab, we made our next turn onto a road that not only had lines, but even featured the occasional guardrail (what a concept!). Well after all that, it was pretty much smooth sailing. The sun came out, our altitude began to drop, and I started to catch short glimpses of a faint blue horizon off in the distance. I wonder what that could be…  WELL! It was only another couple of downhill miles before we cruised through the only town in America I think I’ve been too that did not feature a McDonalds - beautiful and quaint Pescadero, California - and finally observed what this distant blue thing was. As you may remember from last week’s post, I am pretty passionate about oceans. I really don’t know why. I didn’t grow up all that close to one. I’ve probably almost drowned in them a couple times. Those rip tides are always trying to end me. I shouldn’t really be all that friendly with them. But I am!  The Pacific was finally in view, and this time from the ground! The aerial view I enjoyed last weekend was like nothing else, but this was on a whole other level compared to that. I could actually see, smell, hear, and touch the largest ocean on the planet! Heck, I could taste it too if I was so inclined to do so (I wasn’t really). And it really was everything I had hoped for. Ben was also experiencing it for the first time, so he was just as giddy as I was. We crossed the infamous Highway One and entered the first parking lot we found. I parked the Mazda and we both got out. 
It was so refreshing to be in such a beautiful place with other people who appeared to be enjoying the experience just as much as we were. I snapped a few pictures and we just gazed out at the beauty. I am such a sucker for the Atlantic Ocean and its beaches, since the highlight of so many of my summers has been spent on them. But take it from me, if you do not already know for yourself – the Atlantic has nothing on this. The beach is just so natural, un-screwed around with, and just generally more scenic. In addition to the usual sand, there are cliffs and rocks and plants and no houses or hotels blocking your view. It is pretty much perfect. We got back in the car (it was chilly!) and turned back onto Highway 1, heading south. I was almost as delighted to be driving this amazing highway. To me, there is nothing like a road that spends virtually all of its 656 miles hugging some of the most gorgeous coastline in the world.
After a few more miles and a couple more stops here and there to see a groovy lighthouse and some flowers, we arrived at our official destination. Now obviously the whole trip thus far had been a destination, but we actually did have an objective in mind. I called it the chewy center of our day. We were going hiking on the beach! I know you are all frowning at me and saying that a walk on the beach does not count as a hike. Especially if you do it in flip-flops (I did!), but let me just say that it counts as a hike in my book. No, really, there is a write-up on it in my “100 Great Hikes in the SF Bay Area” book. So yeah, it really does count as a hike in my book (heh). Ok, enough bad jokes. Moving on…
The book told us to park in the lot at Gazos Creek State Beach and walk south on the coast for 4 miles, enjoying all the scenery and wildlife along the way. Well let me just say that although I love beaches and I also love strolling on beaches, 4 miles was not in the cards. Make that 7.8 miles round trip. Instead, we ate our turkey and hummus on wheat and walked down the beach for an hour, which amounted to a little over a mile, checked out the situation, and then came back. It was awesome. Really. There was so much to see, climb on, touch, chase (mostly seagulls, a few people…just kidding!), and just generally enjoy. I even got to pee on some really majestic looking rocks. How fantastic! I was so delighted that something I had actually looked forward to for so long was really as good as I had hoped.
 The walk back north was windy but enjoyable. The scenery was really unbeatable, for me. And the best still had yet to come! Back in the car, we headed north. It was nice having the sun and the ocean to my left, right out the window. Even though the speed limit was 55, I found myself doing closer to 40 just so I could take it all in. That didn’t make a guy in a silver Volvo very happy, but lucky for him there are passing lanes.   I had purposely got different directions to get home, predicting that the magical forest adventure we’d had earlier in the day would probably make a better day trip than a quick nighttime return, which turned out to be correct. Instead, we hugged the coast on Highway 1, heading towards the town of Half Moon Bay. About 10 miles out, at a point on the road of particularly high altitude, we passed a place to pull over. I turned around and drove back to it, stopping the car on what turned out to be one heck of a high cliff. I was just overflowing with joy. Really people, this is the stuff that does it for me. The sun was a few minutes from setting so I called my Dad to say hello while we waited. Before long, the moment I had been awaiting finally arrived. I watched, 150 feet above the golden sand below, in awe and admiration as the sun set gracefully over the ocean, under a cloudless blue sky.  It was amazing. I won’t say that my life is now complete, but it is definitely one step closer. I finished up with my Dad and we drove the rest of the way to Half Moon Bay, stopping in a groovy looking Taqueria for some burritos. It was no Chipotle of course (I really need to stop comparing every burrito I eat to that place) but the carne asada was spicy and satisfying, and the horchata was sweet, like our day. I didn’t even finish the whole thing! How embarrassing.  We headed home on the road more traveled and made good time on the fast but boring freeway. Arriving home a little before 10, we were both pooped. Ben headed home to his place in San Jose and I went inside to play with the cats. I sat and reflected on another wonderful weekend in California, thinking of how great it was to see that sunset. I really can’t say enough about the fun it has been out here the last couple of weeks, and I wholeheartedly look forward to many more days like this one.
 There are some pictures posted at the link below that I think are pretty great. I hope you will view them and enjoy them! http://www.somepicturesitook.com/3-24gal Also…here is a little something I made for you guys to help you experience the beauty of the Pacific coast as I saw it this weekend. It is a big panorama so obviously there is a little load time and some scrolling involved, but click the photo below and I think you will like what you see. Make sure you click on the photo once it loads, in case your browser shrinks it to fit the screen. It should appear huge. If you like it, let me know and I will put together more! Thanks so much for reading.
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| Another Fine Weekend in Paradise (Part 2) |
 On Sunday morning, I awoke feeling surprisingly refreshed. It was rather enjoyable to wake up in the city and find myself tangled in the sheets with Dan. We did the whole cuddling thing until it was time to get up. He had to be back at school by noon, which required our departure from San Fran to be somewhere in the neighborhood of 11am, so downstairs we went, along with his friends, to find some breakfast. Around the corner and down the block a few strides was a funky organic looking coffee shop/bakery place called the Arizmendi Bakery Cooperative. They had the most amazing selection of fresh pastries, English muffins, scones, you name it. I selected a wacky breakfast pizza type thing covered with goat cheese, mushrooms, and onions on what basically amounted to pizza crust. I love goat cheese. This thing looked delicious. Dan grabbed a scone-like pastry that tasted like really sweet challah bread and out the door we went. We said our farewells to Paul and Jen and hopped in the Mazda. A few turns and traffic lights later and we were heading south on the 280. We could have taken the 101 but 280 from San Jose to San Francisco has got to be one of the most scenic stretches of interstate out there. I mean, there is stuff to look at around every corner, and I do not mean tract housing and billboards. By some grace of god, this road has largely been kept clear on both sides, which allows for some gorgeous vistas. Pay no attention to the fact that I am going about 80 while enjoying all this scenery. And I’m pretty sure that at the time, I was basically driving with my knees while I chowed down on my delicious breakfast pizza thing. All part of my California experiment! I dropped Dan off at Stanford and headed home to waste a few hours. I am especially talented in this department and found no difficulty at all in making the time disappear in the most unproductive manner possible. Hey, what’s the weekend for anyway? Actually, I did have something planned for later in the day. You see, my good friend Dan, with whom you are all pretty familiar with at this point if you have been reading this blog diligently, has his private pilot’s license. You know where this is going. We were going to go flying! I was stoked. I arrived at his place around 4:15 and he informed me that the winds were at 20 knots gusting to 30. I knew very little about flying and had never been up in a private plane before, but pilot Dan basically told me that if those conditions persisted, we would be staying on the ground that afternoon. Feeling restless, we decided to take a chance and head to the airport anyway, just in case things changed. As you would expect, it was plenty windy when we arrived. We wandered around the plane for a while, wishing we could take her up for a spin. I had been pretty enthused about the whole flying thing, and once we arrived at the airport and I saw the plane with my own eyes (it was really cool), I was even more excited. What a bummer that we couldn’t go. We decided to go kill some time and come back in an hour, hoping that whatever atmospheric forces were causing the wind would go away. Since we had time, we went back to Dan’s place and got my car. Out we went with Dan at the helm! He said he wanted to practice driving stick shift, and since I remembered what a joy it was to go out and play in my sister Livi’s manual-transmission Saturn back in the day, I obliged. If he can fly planes, I figured he couldn’t do too much harm to the cute little blue Mazda. We arrived unscathed at the Palo Alto Airport, where thankfully the wind had largely abated. Dan briefly chatted with some other pilots who were hanging around the small airport and then out onto the tarmac we went. I was pumped! Dan pulled the covers off the plane and went about his pilot business while I ran around and took pictures, trying to make myself look useful and probably failing miserably. Eventually we began the preflight check procedure, which essentially is a step by step checklist that takes you around the entire aircraft, making sure that all the major systems are working properly. This includes everything from testing the many fuel tanks for water contamination to making sure all the lights are blinking the way they should. There was quite a bit more to check on, and about 15 or 20 minutes later the preflight check was finally complete. We did our final walk around, known as the idiot check, just to make sure we weren’t forgetting to untie the wings from the ground or something stupid like that. If I ever become a pilot, I am sure I will at some point try to fly away with the wings still tied to the ground. I guess this step is in there just for me!  We were finally ready to go. In I went, with little difficulty, up into the rather compact but efficiently laid out cockpit. Strapped into the 5 point harness securely, Dan hopped into the seat in front of me. The coolest thing to me was that I had almost all the controls that Dan had in front of me as well! If only I knew what all the stuff actually did. He did try to explain some of it. We were flying in a somewhat unusual aircraft known as a tailwheel plane, which has three wheels as you would expect. The difference is that there are two in the front and one swiveling wheel in the back. Imagine a tricycle in reverse. Although this was Dan’s first solo flight in a tailwheel, he assured me that his months of training in this aircraft more than prepared him for our afternoon cruise over Silicon Valley.  Right he was! I was really impressed with his knowledge and confidence about the entire flying thing. As we taxied towards the runway, Dan radioed the ground control folks in pilot-speak, a complicated (to my ears) but efficient means of communication between the pilot and the traffic control people. In between talking to the control tower, he gave me explanations of everything that was happening. We paused just before the runway to do our run-up, which appeared to me like basically opening the throttle all the way and standing on the brakes to make sure everything is working right one last time before you set off to become airborne.  Well you know what comes next. The huge propeller on the front of the plane spun up and before I even knew what was happening, we were blazing down the runway and the tail was lifting off the ground. In tailwheel planes, the back wheel rises off the ground before the front ones. I had scarcely processed this sensation before we were off the ground completely, climbing at a surprisingly rapid rate. I will confess that I get a little motion sick from time to time, so the next minute or so was spent trying not to throw up while checking out the awesomeness of the world below me, which was becoming farther and farther away with every passing moment. “The world looks so much cooler from up here,” I spoke into the intercom to Dan. It really did look incredible, in a way you can’t quite grasp from the tiny windows on commercial airliners.  We headed out from the runway turned west towards the ocean, passing over such recognizable landmarks as IKEA, which was of course the largest and most easily identified building for miles and miles, along with the Stanford campus and the 101, which snaked off to the south until I could no longer see it anymore. In a few more minutes we had escaped the valley and were flying smoothly around 2000 feet, over some of the most amazing looking mountains I had ever seen. To be honest, they we probably more like big hills. But amazingly big hills at that! Over every hilly acre below me stretched gorgeous green growth, giving the entire area a soft appearance like someone had thrown an emerald colored blanket over what were once more jagged peaks, smoothing them over.  Finally, we made it to the Pacific Ocean. Out over it we flew. It was wonderful. I was pretty much speechless. I had finally made it to the Pacific, after 21 years of life. What a momentous occasion this was, for someone like me who is so in love with the ocean. The beach looked entirely different from the Atlantic coast that I am so familiar with. For one, where were all the beach houses? There were not dozens of houses lining the beach as there always seems to be on the east coast. And the waves, enormous in appearance even from our altitude, came in from far off the shore. And the cliffs…yes, there were cliffs, giant and magnificent! I took photos the whole time.  Dan showed me some tricks he knew, such as how to get the plane to go into a stall, as well as how to do some really quick turns (talk about high g-forces!). The plane rolled steeply to one side and we spun around rapidly, changing direction so fast that I could barely keep my arms up in front of me to take photos. What fun!  Eventually we turned back toward the east, heading for the airport and beginning our descent. Dan began his intricate song and dance with the air traffic controllers as we requested permission to land. We again flew over IKEA as we began our approach. I was rather excited to experience a landing in one of these tiny planes since I never had before. Furthermore, the landings in these tailwheel aircraft tend to be rather interesting, since the reversed three wheel configuration makes the plane inherently unstable on the ground. Again, imagine riding a tricycle in reverse. At 60 miles per hour. Even the most minute of steering inputs could send this baby wobbling across the runway if Dan wasn’t careful.  Lucky for us, he was up to the task. We landed rather smoothly for his first solo flight in a tailwheel, and taxied smoothly back towards the parking area. I had the biggest smile going, if not on my face then somewhere on the inside. What a great way to spend some time, wandering around the sky above everyone else.  Dan taxied over to the space where are plane belonged and cut the engine. He pushed the lightweight aircraft backward into its space and I hopped out. I was still a little disoriented from the ride but delighted nevertheless. My first private plane experience had been an excellent one. We covered the plane back up and headed back to the car. We were both starving, so off we went to a Thai restaurant in Palo Alto. As it turns out, some dumplings along with a dish of fried beef and Chinese eggplant provides the perfect finale to another awesome weekend in California.  Click the link below to see the rest of the photos from this weekend not featured in the blog. http://www.somepicturesitook.com/3-16-08gal |
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| Another Fine Weekend in Paradise (Part 1) |
That title may be a slight bit generous. Paradise probably isn’t a place where you sit in traffic every weekday morning on your way to work. In paradise you probably don’t even have to work at all. And I’ll bet it gets warmer than the fifties in March over in paradise. But northern California does have palm trees and plenty of sunshine, along with gorgeous mountains, a beautiful bay, not to mention the Pacific right around the corner. So perhaps it isn’t paradise, but it is certainly close!
And I can’t seem to think of a better thing to do in this paradise-like environment than to go out and bask in everything that the world around me has to offer. This weekend was another amazing one. I spent Friday night sipping gin and tonics at Stanford for Dan’s 22nd birthday celebration. His friends and housemates seem to have accepted me as one of their own, which is so nice. He lives in a house called Phi Sig, which is a fraternity house that for some reason no longer houses a fraternity. The people are extremely friendly and outgoing so I always have a nice time over there.
On Saturday the house took a trip to San Francisco to tour the Museum of Modern Art (SFMoMA), and guess who got to go along? I guess they had booked the trip for a few more people than actually wanted to go, so I was extended the invitation, and boy did I accept! Dan and I drove to the city separately and met up with everyone in front of the museum, where we were given our tickets (thanks Stanford!). Once in the museum, I stared up and found myself in a giant atrium filled with light. It was at least 6 stories high. Generous stories at that. What a building! Dark granite, arranged in an alternating shiny and dull pattern for effect, stretched across the whole floor in front of me.
I could see a staircase ahead, which turns out is the entrance to the whole affair. We headed for it and proceeded upward, handing our tickets in for admission. The second floor featured some really random modern art, the wackiest of which I still remember- one was a white canvas, painted that way by some guy around the 1950s. Another was a single bluish-white fluorescent tube lamp. Another was simply a white porcelain urinal, lying down with a signature on one side. It read, “R. Mutt, 1917”. I really don’t get modern art! 
They did have some cool stuff, like the twin busts, one cast in soap and the other in chocolate. The soap one was all sudsy and the other had been licked by the artist. Yum!
We made our way up to the third floor, where we found some photography exhibits. Finally something I could relate to! There was a large section devoted to Gabriele Basilico, a well regarded Italian photographer who came to the SF Bay area recently to photograph the freeway system, among other aspects of the region. The photographs were all large size and most were black and white. There was a strong emphasis on the glass and steel architecture common in Silicon Valley office buildings, along with the metal and asphalt of the highways in the area. His photographs of San Francisco were amazing.
Taken from afar, it seemed like I could see the entire city! All the bridges and famous skyscrapers, along with the huge rainbow flag at Castro and Market, were visible in the photo. I couldn’t wait to climb whatever hill that shot was taken from and see it all for my own eyes! Upstairs, we came across another photo exhibit, which I was delighted to see. The entire floor was devoted to the works of Lee Friedlander, who I’ll confess I had never heard of. It turns out that he is an extremely accomplished and respected American photographer who has been photographing the US and its people for decades. He shoots everything from landscapes to nudes to general Americana, but I was most interested in his portraits. As a budding photographer, I find nothing more difficult than to shoot a really great, candidly arranged portrait. This guy can definitely pull it off, and for that he definitely earns my respect. 
I think after all those exhibits, we had pretty much had it with art for the day. We rode the fancy art gallery elevators back to the bottom of the atrium and met up with the rest of the group. Luckily, the second leg of the field trip was dinner over at Biscuits and Blues, a southern comfort style restaurant that also happened to be a blues club! I had never tried Jambalaya before, so when I heard it was on the menu, my mind was made up. When it came, it was spectacular. So much flavor and plenty of heat! Soon after, the illustrious E.C. Scott and her band came out to entertain us with some awesome blues.
 Now I must admit, I thought blues was a genre filled with slow and sad music about your baby who left you and all that. Well not tonight it wasn’t! This lady was quite the entertainer. She ran around the room all night, seeking help from the audience to assist her in singing such memorable tunes as “Keep Filling Me Up,” and “Baby If You Don’t Love Me, I Know How to Love Myself”. And let me just say that judging by the full-on, all out, onstage faked orgasm we were all so lucky to have witnessed from the audience prior to her singing of the aforementioned tune, this Ms. Scott was taking those lyrics in the most adult sense possible! Let me not forget to mention the five solid minutes that were spent listening to the band play background music as she wandered the room inquiring about all the men’s shoe sizes. She was particularly delighted when she located a gent wearing size 14s! And let me also not forget about when she felt it necessary to disclose to the entire audience that despite her rather portly stature, she “weighs 95 between the sheets.” Umm, wow. Needless to say, we were all a little surprised but altogether tickled by the experience and left with smiles on our faces.
The Stanford folks headed home, while Dan and I drove over to the Inner Sunset neighborhood to meet some old school friends of his from the east coast. As we cruised down Market Street towards our destination, I found myself extremely drawn to the hills that grace the south and western regions of San Francisco. I knew that those hills, dotted all over with orange tinted streetlamps which were absolutely beautiful from a distance, would give a spectacular view of the lower portions of downtown at night. After having seen this vista in the photograph earlier in the day, I knew it would be worth the trip. With San Fran’s 24/7 club beats radio station playing, we headed toward higher elevations and found what we were looking for. Steep and windy streets revealed view after breathtaking view of the city’s bridges, downtown neighborhoods, and everything else between us and the bay.
 Dan’s friends were expecting us so we had to move along. It had definitely been worth our time though. I vowed to myself to return in the daytime with a camera.
We arrived at Ninth and Judah in the Inner Sunset and found a space close to the corner. We called up to the apartment using the intercom and were subsequently granted access to the building by the obligatory loud and annoying buzzer-door opener device. Why they haven’t invented a more pleasant sounding solution to this problem, the world may never know. As we passed through the dimly lit lobby, I couldn’t help but stop and notice the gorgeous terra cotta tiled floors and what appeared to be a hand-painted ceiling. I couldn’t believe such attention to detail had been given to the small lobby of an apartment house. San Francisco is an unusual place, I suppose.
The duration of the evening was spent chatting it up with Dan’s amazingly fun friends, who had only arrived in San Francisco three weeks prior but appeared to be loving it. We hung out in their apartment sipping “Fat Tire,” a west coast amber ale that I found particularly tolerable.
 We eventually moved the conversation down the block to a nearby bar with a perfectly positioned fireplace. The clock had nearly struck one when Dan and I excused ourselves and hopped into a cab headed for the SOMA neighborhood, where our dance club destination lovingly known as “The Stud” awaited.
An hour or so of dancing and debauchery later, we made our way back into a cab and headed to the quieter parts of town from which we came. Dan’s friend had given us a spare key and permission to sleep on their brand new IKEA couch that happened to convert perfectly into a bed for two. After an adventurous cab ride, during which I was reportedly quite chatty with the cabbie regarding various cab driver topics, we stepped onto the curb and up into the somewhat firm but nevertheless convenient IKEA couch-bed. Sleep was had by all.
Now friends, please forgive me but it is late and I must work in the morning. That said, Part 2 of the weekend adventures will be coming in another day or two. Hope you enjoyed it.
PS-I didn’t bring my camera to SF so the images are all pulled from around the web.
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| A Place I Could Get Used To, Or My First Few Days in Cali |
 Forgive me for taking so long to make this first post, but I hope you’ll take some time to read and enjoy my story. In case you give up and don’t make it to the end, check out the links and the bottom and please leave some comments if the mood strikes you. :)
Day 1
I emerged from the plane and became immediately aware of my surroundings- acres of tarmac beneath me, bluish gray sky above and the faint sight of mountains in the distance. I was surprised by the absence of the familiar jet way but pleased that I was able to take my first breath of fresh California air so much sooner that I had expected, as I made my way down the narrow steps onto the ground below. I had arrived!
The San Jose restrooms were spacious and welcoming, which I found convenient considering the large number of bags I had so eagerly decided to bring onto the plane with me- a dozen dress shirts on one shoulder, all my socks and underwear on the other. The muscles in my upper arms were beginning to complain. I was just about to take a much needed leak when my phone rang. It was the Chinese gentleman who had brought my car many miles across the country on his auto transport truck to meet me here. I had expected to wait a few days for his arrival, but to my surprise he had been waiting all day for mine. In English so broken I could barely understand, he described his location, which I would discover later was very nearby. In the stall of the very echoey restroom, I conversed with him for a few more moments and then hung up. After relieving myself, I grabbed my carry-on luggage and headed to the baggage claim to retrieve the rest of my possessions.
I stood casually on the sidewalk when he pulled up in his charming Toyota - dark red and of an early 90s vintage. Dan stepped out and strolled over to meet me at the trunk of his car. He hugged me and then popped it open. He tossed in one duffel bag and then the other, struggling with the latter in a way I found cute. I tossed the rest of my luggage in his backseat and then we were off to find my car, which was waiting for us at a nearby freeway exit. Dan is a boy I met several weeks prior at a conference for LGBT Jews at Columbia University in Manhattan. I found him to be wonderfully interesting and we got to know each other well over the period of a day or two in New York City. At some point during our conversations that weekend, I became aware that he hailed from Stanford in California, a school only miles away from my future co-op destination of Sunnyvale. Realizing that we would be so near, we vowed to hang out once I arrived on the west coast. We spoke a number of times after that, which led to his offer to pick me up at the airport when I landed.
Had English been his first language, it might not have taken Dan and I the whole 15 minutes to finally track down the nice Chinese man, who was waiting somewhat patiently with my car only 5 minutes away from the airport on the shoulder of a freeway onramp, the only place the police would apparently let him park his vehicle for the day while he waited for me to arrive. When I stepped out of the car, the man flashed me a familiar smile and thrust some papers at me to sign. I suppose I was agreeing that he hadn't damaged my car in any way during the transport process, but the beautiful blue metallic paint lay under several months of persistent Rochester road salt and was therefore barely identifiable, much less available for close inspection for any possible scratches or knicks. I signed his form and he was off at a rate I found surprising, considering the full load of cars he had on his trailer.
Happy to see my beautiful car safe in one undented piece, I hopped in and started her right up. Dan knew where my new residence was (he had toured the house several weeks prior on my behalf) so I prepared to follow him. However, in a moment of debatable bad luck, his car decided to take a break from being a source of useful transportation and not start. I must admit that I was surprised at first, but considering the laid back state of mind I was in at the time, I wasn't too concerned. I couldn't have been more delighted to have finally arrived in the beautiful San Francisco Bay area, and by the side of a freeway onramp at sunset was as good a place as any to sit and spend some time.
Now, forgive me if I speed things up a little here. I am thoroughly enjoying this writing opportunity but I know this is a blog and not a chapter book so I should probably pick up the pace!
Of course, after attempting a jump start from my car and then calling AAA, Dan's car decided to work again and we were off. We traversed several freeways and eventually found ourselves in the neighborhood I would soon be calling home. I will skip the details at this moment and just say that it is a nice place that deserves a blog posting of its own. I stepped inside and met my roommates- a wonderful old lady named Marilyn, along with her two cats, Valentine and Gamma. They are two, barely distinguishable from one another, black cats with unusually large green eyes for their size. I was immediately excited. I can't say that I have ever been a huge fan of pets, but a few people in my life have recently got my reconsidering that stance- at least in the feline department. I exchanged pleasantries with Marilyn and she showed me where to park my car, after which Dan and I commenced the unpacking process. I am no light packer so this took a while. When it was done, we headed off for dinner of some sort in Downtown Mountain View.
I must admit I was excited to be in the birthplace of Google, although I didn't see the complex. Per Dan's instructions (I had no clue where I was), I parked my very dirty Mazda on the street and we strolled until we found a bustling Tapas restaurant Dan had been to before. We sat and ate various dishes featuring seafood and beef, all with a Mexican flair, while sipping Cava and a delicious red blend from Argentina. The varietals escape me at this moment but I have a sneaking suspicion they were Malbec and Cabernet, though let me not stray from that which is relevant!
After dinner we drove to Stanford, taking Palm Drive, the main route into campus which is adorned with dozens- perhaps hundreds- of beautiful palms of the most delightful (and reportedly expensive) variety. Being a sucker for palm trees in general, I was in awe at the sight. We took the campus loop to the east and headed to Dan's dorm. Perhaps I will spend a whole blog post on this amazing school, but let me just say at this moment that it puts many other campuses I have visited to shame. I love my school because it is mine, but I am pretty sure I love this one a little more. Dan showed me to his room where we sat and chatted for a while, at which point I decided that his futon was far too comfortable to leave and my jet lag had me far too tired to stay awake, so I passed out.
Day 2
Forgive me for letting Day 1 turn into a multipage ordeal, but all those AP English classes turned me into the most verbose of essayists.
My first morning in Silicon Valley began at the strikingly early hour of 7am, a time rare to me in my home time zone. I, however, looked forward to the opportunity to get a start on unpacking so I headed back to my digs in Sunnyvale. I spent the bulk of the morning putting things in their appropriate places, while occasionally stopping to chat with Marilyn and her cats. At some point I ventured out into the world to find a Wal-Mart and a Trader Joes, which turned out to be nearby. After grabbing a few random items, I returned home for a shower and some lunch and then headed back to Stanford to pick up Dan. We had decided that there was no reason to wait- I would be seeing my first glimpse of San Francisco today!
We made our way up the 280, one of the more scenic freeways I've had the pleasure of traveling on, to 19th street and into the city. Traveling in on the west side, I was not immediately confronted with beautiful and famous vistas, although the sight of streetcars and plentiful bay windows surrounded me. Eventually the 19th street traffic abated and we made our way northward through Golden Gate Park, along Route 1 into the Presidio and finally met up briefly with the 101 before heading off just before the Golden Gate Bridge to find a parking space. Although Dan and I certainly weren't the only people interested in viewing the bridge that day, I got lucky with a good spot close to the front and we got out.
 It didn't take too many moments of gazing up at the huge red structure before we decided to take a stroll out across the span. Now one might think that taking a walk out across this majestic feat of engineering would be a calm and peaceful experience, but let me tell you, you are at the mercy of the winds coming across the bay as well as the noise and vibration of the cars driving by just a few feet away. I loved it! There were people of all shapes and sizes, nationalities, colors, etc, walking, bicycling, and just generally enjoying the bridge. I marveled at how it could stand up through all that the climate challenged it with (immense wind and air currents, not to mention earthquakes!). Needless to say, it was exciting. We took some pictures and made our way back to the car.
 After some deliberation, it was determined that a tour of the city by car was in order. After setting a few vague goals, we headed off toward the southeast. Merging onto the 101, I was delighted to finally be driving on this famous interstate. Dan was not as excited as I, but I didn't let that get me down. A few more blocks and we found ourselves on the north end of the city near Ghirardelli Square, though I was much too busy marveling at how steep the streets were and wondering if my stick-shifting abilities were up to the task to notice.  I am happy to announce that they indeed were! After climbing a couple steep ones, we were at the top of the notoriously curvaceous section of Lombard Street, where people seemed to flock as if it were a free amusement ride (ourselves included!). There is nothing terribly exciting about the one block trip down the windiest stretch of asphalt known to man, taken at about a mile an hour, but for me and the other drivers who had chosen that particular street for our eastbound travel, it was the high point of the afternoon.
 We took another trip down Lombard for good measure and then played on a few other steep streets before arriving in the outskirts of Chinatown where Dan had lived this past summer. We parked and strolled into a quiet cafe called The Chameleon on the corner of Pacific and Leavenworth. Something about the place immediately reminded me of a certain coffee shop on campus back in Rochester. It must have been the half dozen Apple laptops open around the room, their glowing white logos all facing me as I walked in the door. Dan ordered a solo macchiato and found himself a croissant to munch on, while I requested a lemonade. Apparently March is not lemonade season though, and I had to settle for a soda of the Italian lemon-lime variety, which I found delightfully refreshing.  When we finished our snack, it was back in the car for the next leg of the tour, which was to include the Castro as well as the Mission District. As we made our way down Market Street, I could see the massive rainbow flag waving in the distance. As we approached the intersection with Castro Street, I thought about what my arrival at the emotional center of the LGBT world really meant. Then I remembered I was driving and had to pay attention to that instead. Hopefully I will get to spend some more time in the Castro soon, as it seemed to be an exciting place full of energy, friendly looking gay people, and rainbow flags. (Did I mention the rainbow flags?) After turning onto Castro, a light ahead changed to red and I stopped, looking ahead as the crosswalk in front of me filled with a delightful assortment of queer people of all types. I wanted to get out and say hello to them all! We drove for a few more blocks on Castro Street and then hung a left toward the Mission District, where burritos of the most delicious variety awaited!  We parked the car and strolled along the long blocks of the Mission, our hunger leading us toward a doorway beneath a sign which read "La Taqueria" in huge red neon letters. Inside, we encountered the usual burrito joint crowd, all eager to chow down on some Carne Asada or the like. We both had beef burritos and shared interesting beverages. I had strawberry juice, which really did feel like a bunch of squeezed strawberries, pulp and all, in a cup. In other words, amazing-aside from the chunks that kept clogging my straw. Dan enjoyed una horchata, which is Spanish for rice milk to the best of my recollection. It was cold and sweet and did a nice job of taking care of the bite of the green hot sauce we were pouring liberally on our burritos. I used the bathroom and we then headed out the door towards the car for the next leg of our journey, the Haight–Ashbury district.  I feel like I should have known this before, but I am now aware that this part of San Francisco is apparently “famous for its role as a center of the 1960s hippie movement,” as Wikipedia puts it. Today, the streets are basically lined with an eclectic mix of stores, and an even more eclectic mix of random people hanging out in front of them. It is obvious that the hippie heritage lives on in these parts. In one block of this neighborhood, I could buy some vintage clothing, get a sweet tattoo, find myself some nice glassware, stop to chat with an old hippie, stop to chat with a young hippie, toss them some change, and then keep strolling. I liked it. Of all the neighborhoods I’d seen, I would say that it struck me as the one with the most character. I’d like to go back. At this point it was dark and we had to be getting back to Silicon Valley, where Dan’s dorm was having a party that evening for no apparently reason other than to spend some house funds on Tequila, which struck me as a good enough reason. We got on the 101 heading south and headed towards home. I dropped Dan off and went back to my place for a nap. Of course, I became entangled in instant messenger conversations and before I knew it, I was late for the party and had gotten no sleep. So goes my life sometimes. I’m sure you can all relate. I made it back to the campus quickly, as this area is a sleepy town and the traffic was light. The Walgreens even closes at 10! I spent the balance of the evening roaming sipping on margarita-esqe beverages and chatting with a student body which struck me as rather different than that which I am accustomed to in Rochester. Partying with these new people made me feel happy and welcome, although I kept hoping throughout the evening to see a familiar drunk face bust through the door and be my beer pong partner. The Stanford folks I hung out with were wonderful people though, and I look forward to spending more time with them. At some point the night ended with me face down in a pillow where I slept soundly till the following afternoon. Day 3
I crawled off Dan’s futon and we made our way to his dorm kitchen where we each constructed for ourselves a rather appetizing turkey sandwich on the kind of bread that makes you wonder how they pack all those grains in there. My favorite. After lunch Dan took me on a tour of his campus, which really is so amazing that as the tour guide he never really needed to say a word. However, he is a tour guide by trade so he knew all the right things to say to get me to want to attend! I will have to spend a whole blog post describing this wonderful campus. Let me just say that I encourage everyone to visit if they ever have the opportunity.  We went up into the Hoover Tower, which is a tower on campus where one can ride an elevator to the top and be presented with generous views of the entire Silicon Valley area and beyond. The whole Stanford campus is in full view, along with the San Francisco Bay and San Francisco itself. It was a great experience and on such a nice day as well. I should go back and mention that since I had arrived, I had experienced virtually unblemished blue skies and highs in the mid 70s. Dan and I came down out of the tower and walked back to his house. He headed off to the airport to do some final flight testing and I drove to one of my favorite places in the world. No, not Chipotle, but close!
 Ahh, yes, IKEA. What can I really say about the place, other than it is wonderful. I go there and I feel inspired and I feel happy. I wandered in sometime before six, to the best of my recollection, and left sometime in the nine o’clock hour. Some very productive and thoughtful shopping was done. It just took a while. I stuffed all my new crap (I love it but let’s be real) into the car and headed for Sunnyvale. I swung by Chipotle for dinner and had one of the best burritos of my life. Then off to Safeway for groceries, along with some wine that I never expected to see in the aisles alongside the bread and the eggs. You can even by hard liquor in the grocery stores too! How convenient! Home I went, where Dan soon arrived to help me unpack the rest of everything and put my room together. We must have been up until three, but luckily neither of us had any pressing commitments in the early morning. He headed home, as I headed into my amazingly comfortable bed for the first time, complete with new and wonderful sheets from IKEA that were fresh out of the dryer. Day 4I awoke sometime around noon and decided that it was time for me to have a leisurely day. I sat around till three and then headed out on some errands. I snooped around outside the office where I would be starting work the next day, and then hit up Target for more essentials. I was especially proud of the HP printer I got on clearance for less than thirty dollars (yay). To appease the part of my brain that actually likes exercise, I drove to a nearby gym and talked my way in for free so I could try out the place. I decided it would be a good day for a chest and biceps workout, which proved exhausting, since I had taken so much time off from the gym over finals and break. It was nice to be back in the swing of things though. I wasn’t terribly enthusiastic about the facilities though, and decided that I would look elsewhere for a membership. Back home, I took a shower and headed to Dan’s to have dinner with him and some friends who were having a dinner party in their dorm. What a nice time it was. The food was nothing terribly inventive, but I would have to say that they cooked some of the most delicious food I have ever seen prepared in a college apartment. Good wine was served as well, and I got to know some more really great people. After dinner, I headed back to Dan’s for a little while and then headed home to sleep. Work in the morning! Day 5/6 and RemarksThe last two days have been relatively a blur. I started work at a new company, which I am enjoying very much. My first day was a somewhat typical, boring, first day, while my second day was already filled with activities and responsibilities. The people I work with all seem nice and laid back, but also very competent. I think am going to like it there. As for after work, I had initially worried that I would be bored with nothing to do. I can certainly say that this has not been the case the past several days, with my time being entirely occupied by something at all times. Two more work days and then it is the weekend, which I’ve no doubt will be filled with some more exciting activities. My joy at being in such a wonderful place is not without reservations though, as I truly miss the people and faces that I had become accustomed to after my one quarter back at RIT. I spent a few nice days at home in Maryland over break, which also acted as a reminder of how much I miss being around there and being near family. I hope that people make the trip out here to visit, as it is worth your time to see what this area has to offer. And I would love to see you!  All in all, Silicon Valley and the SF Bay area seem like wonderful place and I have no doubt I’ll enjoy the next 6 months here. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all my exciting stories! So if any of the people who started reading this blog actually made it to the very end, I love to hear your comments. I really don’t have a clue about blogging, but I figured that I’m in a cool part of the country for a couple months so why not tell a story. If you are into it, let me know and tell me why. Same goes for if you hate it! If you have a story or something good too say in response, please, leave something in the comments section. In addition, I’ve posted all my pictures from this weekend into two online albums that you can view here: http://www.somepicturesitook.com/3-8galhttp://www.somepicturesitook.com/3-9galThanks :) |
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