Into San Francisco

I slept in a bit this morning so that my departure from Roy and Carol's house (aka ground zero for the last two days) would coincide with the end of morning rush hour. The plan worked to perfection. The drive south from Cotati, Ca. was virtually traffic jam free.

As I approached the Golden Gate Bridge I rode through the newly renamed Robin Williams Tunnel, then onto and across the iconic Golden Gate Bridge. Finding myself completely lacking a selfie stick I was forced to complete the trip without visually documenting the event for social media. As I approached the tunnel at the south end of the bridge my GPS told me to stay on 101 for 1.5 miles, or whatever the number was. After going through the second of two tunnels the GPS must have thought I was playing tricks on it. She stopped talking to me; I was getting the silent treatment!

Carol had told me that I was to exit 101 on Lombard St, so I drove until I found this landmark, then turned right, still sans instructions. I continued for a half dozen more blocks before she began to get her voice back.

 Turn left, turn right, turn left; she unleashed myriad instructions as if she had been waiting for the dam to break. She eventually had me turn north on Divisadero. north as in straight up. This street climbs one of the fabled hills of San Francisco and it is steep enough to warrant a clutch repair shop at the bottom of both ends of the street. 

Instead of turning up hill and letting it rip, every intersection on the way up the hill has a stop sign. Now if you've never driven a vehicle with a clutch that may not seem like a big deal, but it is. My clutch, and my bike, made it up and over the top where all of the heat generated by my clutch transferred to the brakes as they deterred the effects of gravity on an 800 pound motorcycle. 

By the time I arrived at my brother Tom's apartment I had no idea where I had been. But I have to give credit to Gertrude Pauline Schuster (Ms. GPS), she delivered me right to his front door.

Tom had secured parking rights in his landlords garage, so I stashed the bike and we took off on a day of sight-seeing. 

We started at Roy's business, where I returned the key for his house. From there we took the bus down to the piers, eventually walking to Pier 39 (the iconic Fisherman's Wharf). 

The return trip was via (once again iconic) cable car. 

A wonderful ride ensued as we went up, down and around the hills of San Francisco, ending near the entrance to BART ( the, need I say it, iconic) the Bay Area Rapid Transit subway system.

 Tomorrow is another day of sight-seeing which will find me near my second fabled prison in three days!