San Fransisco- the Wacky Jacky

7/6

In the morning after some breakfast Alex and I gave our bikes a bath, which was long overdue, and left for a clean cruise up the coast on CA-1. We arrived in San Fransisco just before dark with the trip odometer reading 8041 miles.



We were met on the sidewalk of busy 19th avenue by Alex's Uncle Billy a jolly dude with a sweet goatee. He gave us hugs and helped us back our bikes out of the traffic and into the garage under the house. The house, which was built in the 30's was home to Alex's grandfather through most of his life, at one time 19th ave was not so big and busy.

Billy insisted we come inside. Alex's grandmother had been pacing around the house in anticipation of our arrival and he was sure she was going to wear a hole in the floor. We all ate together and I listened as Uncle Billy and Grandma told stories and showed pictures of Alex as a little guy. Funny stuff!

Exhausted, I fell asleep early and woke to Alex's insistence that I go on a run with him down to the beach. I love the smell of the salty air, and the breeze made the run on the hard packed sand nice and cool. We finished on the beach to search for treasures amidst the rocks and shells. The walk back was long, uphill and we weren't running. Finally back in the house we loaded up on San Fran sourdough and set out with Billy to explore the city.

Billy, a union worker and deep sea fisherman, was a perfect tour guide. He parked his little car in the pier outside the warehouse he manages and we strolled out towards the fisherman's wharf. He wanted to show us the Wacky Jacky, the boat he fishes off of. On the way we stopped for pictures of the Bay Bridge, Alcatraz, and the Golden Gate (I could just hear the Full House theme song playing through my head).



Jacky wasn't around, but Billy knew most of the fishermen, and they whistled acknowledging "hellos" to each other which made me feel less like a tourist. He inquired about the catch of the day and then took us down the street for some tasty clam chowder. We grabbed a trolley for a quick trip back to the car and then drove down Lombard Street, the curviest street in the world, on our way back to the house. (I want to make a joke about not much being strait in San Fran... is that ok?)

Back at the house, I tried to iron out the final details of Alyse's surprise arrival in Yosemite, finalize our hiking plans and permits, and fix the clicking sound that had developed in my bike during acceleration. Alex and I would need to leave at 1:00am from San Fran to make it to the permitting office in Yosemite in time and then would need to leave from there to go to Fresno to meet up with Alyse. After taking apart and cleaning the front sprocket and putting it back together the bike still made the "click" when I took it for a test ride, but at least it worked.

At 12:30am we packed up silently, opened the garage door, and pushed our motorcycles out onto the sidewalk. The city was still alive. After hitting the button and sliding under the closing door, we were back on the road.