Que l'écologie soit fortement institutionnalisée n'est guère étonnant quand on sait que la conquête de la nature sauvage fait partie intégrante de l'histoire des Etats Unis.

L'engagement écologiques des Californiens va bien au delà de leur intérêt pour la voiture hybride ou la lampe à faible consommation... très anecdotique :le patron d'une boîte de nuit de San Francisco a équipé toutes ses lampes en leds et songe aujourd'hui à un système de lumières colorées alimentées par l'énergie des danseurs à taper du pied !

Les "green buildings" ou immeubles verts sont donc fortement règlementés à San Francisco plus qu'ailleurs, avec la contrainte supplémentaire d'être antisismique.

J'ai été bluffée au fil de la lecture du dossier par le nouveau bâtiment de l'Académie des sciences (Golden Gate Park, San Francisco) conçu par Renzo Piano , qui doit ouvrir ses portes le 27 septembre prochain. (Le site de l'architecte vaut très sincèrement le détour ... hum ! la photo du cracheur de feu devant Pompidou a très franchement vieilli, sans rire !! ... Oui car pour rappel, on lui doit notamment le Centre G. Pompidou à Paris et plus récemment le nouvel immeuble du NY TImes de New York).

C'est un exemple symbolique.... au terme d'une (très) coûteuse restauration (plus de 400 milliards de dollars), l'ancien bâtiment a été intégralement recyclé : pierres concassées et réutilisées dans des chantiers régionaux, le métal transformé dans une aciérie et les 120 tonnes de déchets organiques... réorganisés dans le nouveau paysage !

Le nec vert plus ultra des immeubles verts ?

Voyons voir : une orientation choisie en fonction de l'ensoleillement et des directions des bises (ça souffle pas mal dans le secteur !! rappelez vous toutes ces éoliennes pas très loin); un toit ondulé qui n'est pas sans rappelé les collines de Frisco, mais qui favorise les mouvements des masses d'air et permet de faire l'économie du système d'air conditionné; un toit végétal pour le plaisir des yeux, mais aussi puissant isolant été comme hiver, en plus d'assurer la filtration des eaux de pluie... L'intérieur ne devrait pas ête exempt non plus de l'économie des ressources rares.

Sans conteste, un endroit à ne pas louper lors d'une prochaine visite dans la ville des beatniks et des cable-cars !

Yosemite National Park, to be continued ...

Notes - SAN FRANCISCO :

• A toutes fins utiles je vous rappelle un post ici pour un séjour idéal à San Francisco, auquel il conviendra d'y rajouter la visite de cette nouvelle Académie des Sciences !
• Films et séries à voir ou revoir : Bullit, The Rock, Les passagers de la nuit, Le Zodiac, Les rues de San Francisco, Nash Bridges...
• A lire : Les Chroniques de Sain Francisco d'Amistead Maupin (il parait que c'est vraiment bien !!), Les pirates de San Francisco de Jack London, Silverado de Robert L. Stevenson, Rue de la Sardine de John Steinbeck, Sur la Route de J. Kerouac (Pff..j'avoue ! je l'ai commencé mais je ne parviens pas à avancer d'un chouïa !), L'Or de Blaise Cendrars (livre de chevet de Staline !), et dans le style des livres à lire sur la plage : la plupart des romans de Marc Levy ont pour décor San Francisco... (à ne pas lire pour l'épaisseur des personnages, mais la description des lieux demeure plaisante pour le touriste qui y a déjà mis les pieds...)
• Des sites : www.sanfranciscodream.com le plein idées de visites de San Francisco (en anglais et en français), www.sierraclub.org , l'une des plus importantes organisation écologistes américaines.

Notes - LA POLITIQUE ENVIRONEMENTALE AUX ETATS UNIS (sites et articles en français):

• http://www.diplomatie.gouv.fr/fr/IMG/pdf/FD001451.pdf

• http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Politique_environnementale_des_%C3%89tats-Unis_d'Am%C3%A9rique

• http://usinfo.state.gov/journals/itgic/0605/ijgf/ijgf0605.htm

Les derniers chiffres communiqués par les Nations Unies quant à l'émission de dioxyde de carbone par pays datent de 2002. Les Etats Unis en bons premiers, sont tout juste talonnés par... L'union européenne (et oui !), et la Chine, suivie de la Russie, l'Inde et le Japon. La France étant en 12è position (y compris DOM TOM et Monaco).

Les experts s'accordent à dire que la Chine aura supplanté les Etats-Unis d'ici 2009, si ce n'est déjà fait ? Alors que la Chine représentait 14.5 % des émissions de dioxyde de carbone et les E.U. 24.3 % en 2002 !!

Ce qui fait défaut aux Etats-Unis, c'est une politique globale sur tout le territoire, car les engagements sont encore trop individuels... La Californie est un OVNI dans le paysage des " E.U. plus gros pollueur", et la politique de Schwarzy n'y est pas étrangère. La Californie n'a jamais attendu... dès septembre 2006, le gouverneur Arnold Schwartzenegger fit voter une loi sur la réduction des gaz à effet de serre; une première aux Etats-Unis ! Juste après, à la pointe du combat écologique, le même Etat attaque en justice 6 constructeurs automobiles pour "nuisances publiques". Devant l'administration Bush qui campe dans ses retranchements, la Californie donne l'exemple avec l'espoir d'inspirer les autres états plus conservateurs à défaut d'une politique harmonisée.

]]> http://sfrunner.wordpress.com/?p=258 Wed, 23 Jul 2008 02:28:30 +0000 sfrunner http://sfrunner.wordpress.com/?p=258

Pictured above is Columbus Street with the Transamerica Pyramid in the background.

After one of my best training weeks in nearly two years, it was back to training Monday morning.  I broke it up with an easy 5K run to Aquatic Park and back, eight hours of work and a 20K bike ride from my apartment to the north end of the Golden Gate Bridge and back.

On Tuesday morning, we were awakened to a heavy drizzle, something that is common in SD during the summer.  At about 5:45am, I got up and did an 8K run in about 38 minutes running along much of Columbus Street.  The street is famous for the numerous Italian restaurants (known as North Beach).

It was interesting that when I got near the Transamerica Pyramid, a couple of people in business suits yelled out "there's SFrunner!"  Honestly, I didn't know who the two were but I nodded back as I went by them.  I was trying to get through the Financial District as quickly as possible because at about 6:15am, the area gets packed with pedestrians getting to work.

When I got back, I received an interesting e-mail from Gene, one of our bloggers.  I mentioned to him on one of his blogs that I'm not noticable here in SF.  The reason is that the bloggers here seem to like MySpace and Facebook a lot more.  Nothing against the two but I like WordPress a whole lot more!

Tomorrow (Wednesday), I'm going to share a true story about a friend of mine who will be running in the San Francisco Marathon on August 3rd.  It will be one that you won't want to miss.  Take care everyone!   

My favorite places in San Fransisco, the beaches, the Golden Gate, the Marin Headlands, for some reason are just not on the tourist map. You will remember these sights and places for the rest of your life. It should take you about half a day to do it right.

This is basically a half day tour that needs to end at sunset for best results. Start out by having lunch then procure a great picnic dinner and bring lots of water. You may need sweaters and jackets depending on the weather. Expect the Overlooks to be substantially windier and colder than the city itself. Strange weather can make for even better experiences on this tour, so don't wait for the sun.

The ocean near San Fransisco is cold, so be tough or don't swim.

You need a car or bicycle but a good walker could easily do the tour and is in for a real treat, just make sure you are younger than 90 years old or plan to take longer than half a day.

Begin with the Gun Emplacements and the beach and view of the Golden Gate just west of the Presidio. There are very few people here. Then explore the coast toward the Golden Gate. You can spend an hour or two here easily. No bathrooms here but plenty of bushes toward the bridge side of the gun emplacements.

This beach is probably the best in San Fransisco for five reasons. First, very few people, sometimes none. Second, great views, not just of the ocean. Third, More than just beach things to do. four, easy to get to although parking is limited should the crowd suddenly discover this beach. Five, marine life and natural setting.

Next go across the Golden Gate to the tourist photo op but don't stay long, there will be tour buses and lots of people, but good views. This may be your last bathroom visit of the day.

Take the exit to the road to the Primary and Secondary Overlooks.

The secondary Overlook will have some people. Don't spend too much time here. No bathrooms here.

From the secondary overlook keep going down the road and take the first left turn. Check the first map for road details.

Plan to spend at least an hour or two at the Primary overlook near sunset. you will not see many people here. Bring a buddy and have a nice picnic dinner at the bench on top of the hill near the Gun Lookout. My recollection is that they used to have bathrooms in the tunnel area, but don't count on it. You may have to use the bushes.tart out by having lunch then procuring a great picnic dinner and bring lots of water. You may need sweaters and jackets depending on the weather. Expect the Overlooks to be substantially windier and colder than the city itself.

You can also continue past the third lookout and really explore the World War II fortifications for the Bay area, they are just great. There is even a large tunnel through the hills that you may recognize from many Hollywood movies.

Previous............ Next

For Johnny Sy, baldrunner, baldrunner's kids and myself, I wanted to share part of the course in pictures with them and the readers.  This will be only the first five miles of the marathon course and much of the 5K.

The marathon, first half marathon and the 5K will start right where I took this picture. I'm actually in the middle divider but in front is the fabled Ferry Building that was built in 1900. The Ferry Building became a very important thoroughfare during the 1906 earthquake and fire and again in 1989 with the Loma Prieta earthquake.

Johnny, in the background is a park with a heart and arrow.  Beyond that is the San Francisco - Oakland Bay Bridge.  You will pass under this bridge twice - to and from AT&T Park.  baldrunner, his kids and I will pass under the bridge as we head to the finish of the marathon.

AT&T Park is the home of Major League Baseball's Giants, bowl college football games and concerts.  Johnny, you'll be past the halfway mark of the 5K and baldrunner, his kids and I will be at the 25 mile mark.

Fisherman's Wharf. One of the landmarks in the marathon

Alcatraz, another landmark.  tokyo5, I think I finally got a decent shot of "The RocK."

The Golden Gate Bridge, now 71 years old.  I had a chance to walk on it during the 50th anniversary celebration.  Now, baldrunner, his kids and I will have the opportunity to run it on Sunday, August 3rd. 

Next Sunday or Monday, I'll share the final park in pics sharing the Presidio and Golden Gate Park

Part of the Golden Gate Bridge on an overcast morning.

The runners were awakened to another overcast morning here in San Francisco.  The temperature read 13C at about 7:00am.  There were two events this morning.  There was a one mile swim called the Escape From Alcatraz.  This is not to be confused with the Escape From Alcatraz Triathlon that was held last month.

Alcatraz

The other event was the DSE Walt Stack 5K.  Walt Stack, along with a couple of other runners founded the Dolphin South End Runners back in 1966.  It is the oldest active running club in San Francisco.  Mr. Stack was one of several running promoters in the United States that pushed women's running back in the early 1970s.  Because of this, there are women running in events longer than 800 meters today in Olympic competition.

Walt died in the mid 1990s but there are a couple of races that are named in his honor.  The start of the Walt Stack 5K is adjacent to a park bench at the Marina Green.

After a 13 mile workout yesterday, I felt a lot better than anticipated.  Despite the chilly breeze out at the Marina, I kept the warmups on as long as possible before the start of the race.  A last minute turnout pushed the attendance to probably over 100 runners.  I got close to a mile warmup and actually did about a half dozen 100 meter strides before peeling off the gear. The green coolmax Achieve (New Balance) Fartlek shirt was not exactly keeping me warm. (I can read what lonerunner might mention about fartlek now!)  

My game plan, being a tempo run, was to run the first 2.5 kilometers in 12:00 and the last 2.5 in 11:30.  This being mostly an out and back course, we're going to get a westerly wind on the way out.

Surprisingly, the wind stopped and it was rather calm.  The start was rather slow but when I got to the 1K mark, the legs and the breathing rhythm was in sync. Interestingly enough, there weren't too many people out on the Golden Gate Prominade, a dirt trail thoroughfare that connects the Marina to Ft. Point.

The turnaround was not quite at 2.5K (actually 2.41) but this course actually loops a little at the end.  When I got to the actual halfway mark, I was actually stunned to see the Garmin reading 11:43, about 17 seconds ahead of normal.

There was a lot of spring in the legs despite the fact we were running on a soft trail surface. The pace picked up as I was in a pack with three other runners, all of them about 25-30 years of age. 

We got to the three mile mark and the Garmin was right on cue with the chalk marking on the street.  Hitting the three mile mark in 22:10, I knew that the mission was accomplished.  Usually it takes me 35-40 seconds to hit the 5K mark and sure enough, I hit the finish in 22:49!  More amazingly, I ran negative splits which is unusual for me in a 5K!

After warming down for about a kilometer, I returned to find that the race director was handing out chocolate brownies.  Normally, I'll stay away from the sweets, but the reward of having a couple was worth it!

I spoke with Bill Dake of Ohana regarding the Freedom Road 5K.  The reason for the mishap had to do with the person that compiles the results for Bill.  Because of a very busy schedule, the results got in on Friday.  Mentioned to Bill that I'm available to help out if necessary.  He said he would keep me in mind.

As we were leaving, a group of about 100 runners were gathering at the Marina for perhaps their last long run prior to the San Francisco Marathon.  They were led by 'Marathon Matt' of Fleet Feet Sports.  Just a reminder that there's less than two weeks to go!  

The results will be on www.dserunners.com under race results by Tuesday night.

Finally, on Tuesday or Wednesday, I'll share part one of the two part series regarding the SF Marathon in photos.  Stay tuned! 

The alternative would be to run through Golden Gate Park to the Pacific Ocean, then north to Land's End, through the Presidio and back home.  It is tougher coming back because it's mostly uphill.  However, this is the way it was meant to be.  The good thing was that this is a course that I've run numerous times in training and is measured on my Garmin.

The day was overcast with little wind.  It felt that it was about 16C.  The humidity was definitely low.

When reaching Golden Gate Park at 5K, I saw several runners from the Pamakid club that I run with.  However, it was much bigger when several groups from the Team In Training groups traveled towards me. Some of the group knew me from working at the store and we exchanged acknowledgments.

I reached the Pacific Ocean which was the 10K mark.  I can't remember a Saturday when I've run near the ocean that I saw very few people.  Definitely not many cars either!  As we neared the end of Ocean Beach, the first of many hills going back to my apartment was about to begin.

While going through Land's End and the Presidio, one is amazed by the beauty of the cliffs and the many trees lining the roads.  This helped me get through a series of hills. 

Finally, out of the Presidio, I was on a street called Lake Street which is well traveled.  There is a bike lane that more runners run on than the bicyclists.  From 25th Avenue to Presidio, it is 25 blocks of a slight incline.  All I was interested in here was keeping the running body loose and not getting too excited.

Once on Presidio, it was south to Pine Street and then east for nearly 15 blocks before reaching my apartment.  The last three kilometers is of rolling hills, something that I'm aware of and have done many times.

Reaching the apartment, the Garmin read 21.1 km at 1:51:17.  I was hoping to be running for about two hours so mission accomplished.  Interestingly, on February 3rd when I ran the Kaiser Permanente Half Marathon, I ran 1:51:15 on an easier course than this.  The running form was a lot better today.

Splits: 5K (26:43), 10K (52:55), 15K (1:18:17), 20K (1:45:01), 21.1K (1:51:17)

Tomorrow, a tempo run at the DSE Walt Stack 5K.  For now, a lot of stretching and fluids.

so, with the "july-factor" in mind, i decided that reliving my recent travels might help lift my spirits a bit.  and just maybe for a minute i'll stop whining and feel thankful for the wonderful places i've been to see this year.

'07-'08 was a blessed year for me regarding travel, and '08-'09 is already shaping up to be exponentially better. 

i guess dallas is where it all begins and ends for me right now.  and though i'm not so fond of her, dallas has enough work to allow me to travel more than most.  so i'll think kindly of her for the moment...

austin is kind of my secret girlfriend.  we courted for over 5 years, but i had to leave her for a more practical lover.  so sad.  i do sneak around from time to time though... just to see her pretty face, and hear her alluring voice.

brazos bend, texas.  my favorite place to play with alligators in texas!!  if you want to see some prehistoric monsters, i highly recommend this park.  it's just a short drive southwest of houston.

cabo san lucas, mexico!  my friends joe and erin got married there last summer, and guess who was able to go for free in exchange for a little wedding photography.  well worth it...

not too far from the city, somewhere out in east texas, is a private getaway, known only as "timado" to the few elites who know of it.  i was let in to the inner-circle last fall when i was invited to a double bachelor party extravaganza.  well, okay, so it's not very elite, more like a good place to drink beer, go fishing, and grow out your mullet.  but it's really fun.  and a great place to catch snakes and shoot fireworks.

big bend national park, texas.  ah, the big bend of the rio grande.  one of my classic favorites.  this trip was the first of two for the year, but it ended in tragedy.  my truck somehow found its way to the bottom of a four-foot-deep washout.  at least i only had to hike 18 miles through the desert before i saw someone to get help - hahaha!  what a great trip!

another friend of mine, adam, got married in wonderful savannah, georgia.  what a great place.  i had been once before, but rest assured that i could never get sick of savannah.

so, yet another friend, anna, got married in her home town of philadelphia, pa.  big year for marriage apparently.  and no offense to my other friends, but this was the best one yet.  i'd never been to philly, but it quickly became one of my favorite cities.  partially because two of my favorite people were there - anna and elaine.

another first-time favorite city, san francisco!  i lucked out with this one because of some awesome friends of mine, john and bd.  the brothers had an extra ticket to the 2007 baseball all-star game, and i got the invite.  we had a fantastic time at the weekend's festivities, and we even made our way out to napa for a day.  amazing trip!

i lived in pinedale, wyoming a few years ago when i worked for a small newspaper.  it's a tiny town just south of jackson (or to you tourists, jackson hole... hahaha!).  consequently, it is also very close to grand teton and yellowstone national parks.  doesn't get much better than that.  so, since i reluctantly moved back to texas in 2006, i've made the pilgrimage back at least twice a year.  this was my first trip of the year, in the autumn.  and it was breathtaking - just the way i remembered it.  i hope to someday move back...

yee haw, boy howdy!  ARKANSAS |ˈär,kanzəs|!!  the white river in arkansas is incredibly beautiful, no doubt.  i went on a weekend trip up to northwest ar with some friends last fall to do a little fly fishing, and enjoy the scenery.  i don't know how to fly fish, so i just enjoyed the eye candy, and made photos all weekend.  i think we'll try to go again this fall.

oklahoma city, oklahoma.  we have tons of family in oklahoma - our rival state to the north.  and in all honesty, i don't visit enough.  it's really a great state.  though the university by the same name will always be my arch enemy.

the okc bombing memorial is stunning... a quiet experience... completely heartbreaking.

big bend, part deux.  i took my new ride to experience the land that claimed my previous truck's life only months before.  wow, i really like my new car.  especially with gas prices the way they are.  i was able to do the entire 5 day trip for under $250!!  that includes 1500 miles of driving, four days of bland camp food, and priceless nights under a clear desert sky.  it was a really rejuvenating experience.  i needed it.

the quintessential western road trip, executed at the worst time of year.  my friend, bd, got a wild hair in early november, and decided to plan one of the most classic of american road trips, down the 101.  it was originally planned for the next spring, but neither of us could wait that long...

we set off just a few days after thanksgiving.  we left dallas, and spend the first night in denver.  then from denver, we made our way through blizzards, over togwotee pass to jackson, wyoming.  we had the privilege meeting up with my old roommate, emily, and previous editor, noah.  we had way too much fun.

the next day in spite of splitting headaches, we were off to boise, idaho and then to portland, oregon.  portland may be my new favorite city (i know... i say that a lot).  it reminds me so much of austin, but even prettier.  we spent a few days there, and then made our way up to seattle.  another great city.  somehow, we ended up at a seedy bar called "shorty's" that night.  it was clown-themed, which made it creepy to begin with, but it also happened to be in, what i found out later to be, seattle's "crack district".  that was the first, and hopefully last time i've ever seen someone smoking crack.  right outside the bar, in the rain!?  interesting.

so we were ready to get back on the road after that night.  from seattle, we drove back to portland, then on down to eugene...  go ducks!!!  from eugene, we headed over to the coast, and that's where we hooked up with the legendary highway 101, which we followed the rest of the way down to los angeles.  the scenery was absolutely amazing from the oregon coast all the way to big sur.  and even south of big sur to monterey was quite nice.  really, the trip down the 1 was so overwhelming in its grandeur and raw beauty, that for me (someone who is already a painfully bad writer), is too hard to put in to words.  plus, i'm a photographer anyway.  so i hope the images speak for themselves.

in spite of taking this trip in the most off part of the off season, it was incredible.  i can only hope that i have the opportunity to do this trip again at some point in my life.  i should be so lucky.

my virgin voyage to chitown.  seriously though, i was such a nerd on the flight there, and in my rent car.  the only two albums i listened to the whole weekend were sufjan stevens' come on feel the illinoise, and greetings from michigan, the great lake state.  but they fit so well!  and they are two of the best albums of all time.  so at least they had that going for them.  

chicago is certainly a cool town.  i need to spend more time there.  also, it was december, sooooooo, just a little cold.  maybe i'll see what it's like in spring...

ah, spring in wyoming... what a segue - damn, i'm good!!  so this was the second (well, technically third, if you count the short drive thru on the road trip in november) time for me to visit my old haunt in about six months.  what a treat!

yet another friend, kim, was getting married in pinedale, so it was as good an excuse as any to go visit one of my favorite places in all the world.  and it certainly did not disappoint.  i camped for the first time in single digit weather on eight feet of snow pack too.  so that was cool.  but i learned a valuable lesson:  don't ever do that again!!

in all seriousness, there is something about western wyoming.  a special quality that lacks clear explanation.  ask anyone that has spent any time there, and they'll tell you...  it's a deeply spiritual experience.  and there's something about the winter (which is much of spring as well).  it is what quiet looks like... if that makes any sense.

anyway, if you're still reading, i feel sorry for you because you may have severe mental problems.  or into s&m or something.  but i promise that i'm almost done.

there are two innocence mission songs that always make me nostalgic about my travels, so i'll end with some lyrics.  if you're unfamiliar with the innocence mission, i would highly recommend you give them a good listen.  the first song is called, song about traveling.  really... go figure!?  and the second is the brotherhood of man.  

"a man said, 'why?'  why does traveling, in cars and in trains, make him feel sad?  a beautiful sadness, i've felt this before.  it's the people in the city, you'll never know.  it is everything you pass by, wondering will you ever... return."

"waiting at the airport on my suitcase, a girl traveling from spain became my sudden friend.  though i did not learn her name.  and when the subway dimmed... a stranger lit my way.  this is the brotherhood of man."

"i never can say what i mean... but you will understand... coming through clouds on the way.  this is the brotherhood of man.  this is the brotherhood of man."

all images © andrew r. slaton | photographer 2008

Fortunately, last week, I ran a 30K the day after the Freedom 5K run.  It would have been nice to have another long one before the SF Marathon but runners have to make the best of situations sometimes.

What ended up was a good quality workout.  The legs felt better than anytime this year, and for that matter, the last two years.  My Garmin had splits of 1:16:05 for 15K, 1:21:23 for 16K and 1:21:51 for 10 miles.  The last kilometer was an uphill towards my apartment and gave me a good feeling as the running form seemed as good as it's been. 

This coming Saturday, I'll do an easy run covering the first 21K of the San Francisco Marathon course.  That will be the last long run. 

Supposedly part of this toll hike is to improve the bus and ferry system, which sort of like...trying to improve your black and white television? When a business does this bad you cut your losses and start a better business. You DON'T start taking money from the business that works to subsidize the one that doesn't! I went to film school and this concept makes sense to me...

The North Bay needs a RAIL SYSTEM! Something like they have in D.C., New York, Europe! NOT that load of crap called Smart Train, which is arrogantly put on the ballot year after year despite public rejection. We want a rail system that connects us with Berkeley, San Francisco, BART. Why would I want to raise my taxes for something that's barely going to get me to Larkspur Landing? While it might be a good thing for the shopping center across the street (Marin Brewing Company--WHOO!) the stupidity of this idea is breathtaking. Now that Marin is dealing with brutal traffic and feeling effects of the oil industry's con job it's clear that we should have embraced BART thirty years ago, no? I say make it happen now and do it right. It'll be expensive now or it will be more expensive in the future. Christ, just do it!

And while I'm bitching away I really hate that the only Golden Gate Bridge Fasttrack lane is on the far left of the toll plaza when I usually need to take the 19th Ave. exit on the far right, cutting across several lanes of traffic, generally not the safest maneuver with such a short time to do it. If traffic is thin I can certainly pass through the normal toll plaza on the right, but it usually isn't, so I have to stop behind several cars and wait for them to pay their toll before I can pass...which...defeats...the...purpose...of...FASTRACK!

I hate to say it, but sorry tourists...you need to start paying for that leisurely stroll across the bridge. Paying a buck or two for the chance to take the most amazing, scenic photos of your life is really not a bad deal. Or better yet, give this bridge to Caltrans and let the state handle it. Somehow the Richmond Bridge and others manage to function well enough at $3-4 a hit.

I do, however, support the creation of a suicide barrier on the bridge. Anyone who disagrees has their head in the sand--watch The Bridge and see firsthand what happens when depression and beautiful architecture collide. The film captures almost two dozen bridge suicides with no effort other than pointing cameras at the span. If you watch this film and are still against a suicide barrier then YOU need to jump off the bridge because your  compassion is out of whack. And yet I read these comments to barrier articles on websites, all these people saying, "Eh...they're going to kill themselves anyway--they'll just go someplace else if they can't use the bridge." While I won't argue their point is true in some cases, that's a pretty heartless reason to fight a solution that will eliminate a choice for the suicidal. If someone you loved were suicidal wouldn't you at the very least want the Golden Gate removed as an option? These opponents of the barrier are worried about having their view obstructed. Fine...come up with a better solution. Some of the barrier designs proposed don't obstruct the view much, if at all.

Fortunately I only go into the city once a week on average. But it's gotta be infuriating for those already paying eighty bucks a month to CROSS A BRIDGE (not even a bagel waiting on the other side) having to dig up another thirty bucks. Maybe not for the BMW/SUV owners commuting their tanks, but not all of us in Marin are living in mansions, eating caviar in our hot tubs full of Mondavi. We're out here because it costs even more to live in SF in most cases.

Isn't it frustrating how all these public essentials regularly solve their problems by raising tolls instead of figuring out ways to cut costs and be more efficient? My health insurance always goes up, the UC campuses steadily kick up tuition, which would be cool if it were going to the teachers, but we know it's generally not. The Golden Gate Bridge Board of directors isn't even a full time job, as most of the members are politicians in different districts--well paid, we must note.

Anyway, this is somewhat unfocused ranting. I'd happily leave my car in the garage for a reliable rail system that gets me where I want to go QUICKLY. And part of me would happily kiss (and slap) the Golden Gate Bridge goodbye...if it weren't for the fact that most real dining and social activity (not to mention my girlfriend) are on the other side. It's just that most of us normal working folks don't have the luxury of raising our salaries or fees when faced with financial problems. We budget, cut back on expenses and take care of business. Reading how this money is spent and how many of these people are paid I can't help wonder about the disconnect.

Harrowing.

The familiar become unfamiliar...

7.8.2008

Written at the shores of Doran Beach, after setting up camp.

Doran Beach is a rather unremarkable campground, which makes it all the more remarkable that boredom or anticipation to move on are not among my present company. Rather, peace and contemplation are my only companions.

The surf is murky and black, but the parents here don’t seem to mind as they watch their children ankle, knee-deep in the cloudy waters. The children, especially don’t seem to mind. Quite the contrary, in fact, they squeal in delight as wave after unsuspecting wave catches them off guard, the chill wall of the Pacific crashing upon their backs. They climb, tread bare-toed through the sharp ebony rocks of the tide pools, searching between cracks to bring back to their mothers and fathers a trophy cage full of crabs.

I sit at the beach, read another chapter from Emerson’s essay on nature, then record a few logistical records of today’s leg of the trip: gas, food, camping/lodging, and miscellaneous expenses and such. There must be fifty, maybe seventy people enjoying the facilities of the park, but as I read and pen the details, I feel myself lost in solitude. It’s the peaceful, divine sort of solitude; the sort of solitude that can only come with traveling alone, being away from the people I know, the places I’ve tread. Though my year and a half in Korea was at first novel, routine quickly took over as I taught day after day, then worked corporate day after day, then even as I took months off from employment, saw the same city day after day.

Out here, living this life on the road, tomorrow is an unknown. I may or may not have an idea of where I’ll be, what I’ll do, what I’ll see, and maybe even who I’ll meet, but even if I do know, it’s highly unlikely these things, these people, will have been part of the daily grind. The road is an ever changing mistress, transforming, alluring me with its novel scents, tastes, sounds, and sights.

Out here, I’m a child again. As I watched the kids crabbing, wading, and fishing out here, I was again amazed by their exuberance. Children delight in the things we find mundane, the things we “grow” (devolve) out of, the things we take all too much for granted. How long have I lived near Monterey and neglected the aquatic wonders of the local tide pools? Today, I stretched, climbed, and thoroughly explored the countless numbers of cracks and pools by the shore. I watched and noticed, for the first time, the barnacles lapping out their tongues (are they tongues?) at each wave that brought the waters and their prey within their reach. I engaged in a staring contest with a crab that peaked out at me from a crevice and I lost, but only just by a second and I would have won had the Pacific waited just a moment before throwing a large wave at my feet.

Out here, I’m alive again. I’m amused by what I’ve just written: a damn staring contest with a crab. I’m even proud of it. It’s amazing, delightful, and liberating to be proud of your own creation. The gift of creation, the gift of creating are incomprehensible wonders and having the privilege, the opportunity to climb slowly up the Pacific Coast, with camera and pen and paper in hand, is something truly amazing.

A path down to heaven... (Sonoma Coast)

          I met Elise at a BSANE (Brazos Society for Alternatives to Nuclear Energy) meeting in college, Texas A&M University. I fell in love with Elise when she invited me to a BSANE rally to stop the opening of a Brown & Root power plant in Granbury, Texas.

          It is our first political action together, and we decide to use aliases to hide our identities from the FBI and the media. I go as Frodo and Elise as Gidget. After listening to news of other rallies and a Chautauqua about clean power, the group dances around the fire and sings, chants, or yells like wild natives. Bonding ritual or rain dance? We climb into our sleeping bags and the rain starts around 1:00 A.M. Elise and I string a tarp in the trees above our site, but with the wind, it’s too late and little shelter. We cuddle together in her sleeping bag¬ to stay warm; mine is under a water trail.

           “This sucks. Why the hell are we here?” I ask.

          Calm, Elise looks at me, and smiles. “We are doing it for the future and safety of all human beings and to preserve nature’s beauty. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to live underground in a concrete bunker or in a terrarium for any part of my life. I don’t want my grandchildren to either.” She says, and after a pause, begins to hum an old B. J. Thomas’ song.

          She hugs me tight, and I sigh, relax my head on her shoulder. After a few moments I giggle; I can here it rise up in the distance like a tidal wave.

“Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'.

Because I'm free, nothin's worryin' me.
It won't be long till happiness steps up to greet me
Raindrops keep fallin' on my head.”

          The rain stops around 4:30 A.M. and sitting up with our backs against each other, the bag wrapped around us, we sleep for a couple of hours. We watch the sunrise exile the twilight to a new day, a beautiful blue North Texas morning sky.

          After a communal breakfast of apples, bananas, oranges, milk, and granola, activity around the camp sparks as we approach departure. People are talking in hush tones as they pack their belongings. One sojourner is topless; her white breasts, pink nipples are an instant drop-jaw distraction to anyone passing and several lieutenants argue and attempt to convince her that although her act is bold and courageous, she is a big interference with today’s no-nuke statement.

          We load into borrowed church buses, pickup trucks, station wagons, and even a VW mini-bus. Our Lt’s are shaking everyone’s hands, and answering any last questions, as a chorus of “This land is our land...”can be heard across the caravan.

          “Go over the fence quickly. The State Troopers will help you down, and take you to a bus for processing at the county seat,” she says. “Don’t fight the officers. They are not your enemy. Don’t curse or abuse them in any way.” She finishes, “they’re just doing a job. It’s not personal.”

          She hands out last minute instructions to the drivers, climbs into the back of the lead pickup, and our convoy is off. Sitting along side of us, she clears her throat and joins in on a Pete Seeger song.

“Well, I got a hammer, And I got a bell,
And I got a song to sing, all over this land.
It's the hammer of justice; it's the bell of freedom,
It's the song about love between my brothers and my sisters,
All - over this land.”

          The troopers meet us halfway with lights ablaze and sirens shriek. They enter the Comanche Peak Nuclear reserve and park next to several school buses. It’s ironic that icons of the common good, public education will enjoin and deliver its next passengers to a judge. Three ladders straddle the concertina wire at the top of a 10-foot fence, and two troopers stand at the business end of each. Our leaders take up positions on our side of the fence.

          An impromptu escape, I am getting away; am I going to be free? I dust the gravel off of my elbow as I run. I am almost to the north gate of the bridge, and look over the rail to judge the distance. Several ropes hang from the rail down to the anchor supports on the north end. The guards do not see me, and Agents of the Truth do not pursue. Strange? Benzie? If I had known him sooner, he could have been my best man.

          The small Texas limestone church is transcendent, radiant at sunset from a stained glass western wall behind its alter and indirect twilight through the stained glass windows along the pews. They depict the passion play, the life of Jesus Christ. Yellow chrysanthemums, red roses, baby’s breath, and palm leaves arc between the inside backrest of each pew. An ivory candle on each lights the path. We are not members, but as kind-of-believers, a donation goes a long way in a westward, bootstrap town. A night of tequila and lurid visions of fertility leaves me pale, shaky, but not deterred. I wipe the sting from my eyes and chew up another breath mint to hide the worm’s, no dragon’s residue from bachelor night.

          Cello, violin, and piano play Vivaldi’s Spring; Elise enters on her little brother’s arm. Her father an Air Force reconnaissance pilot died in Vietnam.

          Elise is celestial. She is 5’ 2”, brown/blonde hair, 36-26-36. Her eyes are aqua blue lagoons of a southern summer afternoon sky on the shores of cumulus clouds and patience. Her skin is pale olive, and she smells of morning dew.

          Till death do we part to meet again in eternity; from this moment, our sum is greater than each. Every ceremony has its dynamics. I stumble with the vowels and almost drop the ring. I am sweating like a hot summer lawn sprinkler, but it doesn’t cool. The pastor saves the moment with a prompt and a touch to my shoulder.

          Elise’s wedding lips are soft spring rain on a warm tin roof, they lull and sooth the skin; her tongue is honeysuckle nectar only a child would taste, the sweet affirms wonderment; her breath is the spray of winter breakers along a rocky coast, it is company in quiet or turbulent pools; our wedding kiss is the first shooting star of all our memories, it is our toes together in a aquifer of time, and our kiss is all the hope in our next sunrise.

          Brother Benzamin Harrows sighs, his upper lip quivers, he sniffles and looks away. He lowers his hand on the shoulder of the agent on my right. I take a another deep slow breath, close my eyes, and I am floating; like I am on a roller coaster my stomach rushes to the back of my throat or like at the top arc of the swing in my mother’s back yard at the picnic when I introduced Elise to her. I smile at Elise. She is sitting at a picnic table, and my mom offers her another spoonful of potato salad. My mother loves her; I can see it in her eyes. A warm blush builds in my stomach, I exhale, I couldn’t ask for anything more. I look at my mom, and she is smiling, laughing as she tells Elise about the time I lost my trunks at the lake, and ran up and down the dock looking for them. I look towards Elise; she is laughing and trying to hold the salad in her mouth. Her face is red and she looks into my eyes, my heart, and my soul. We are home.

Final    [Part 1]    [Part 2]    [Part 3]

          Elise’s sin was sedition. Her discussion with a close friend in the women’s auxiliary–feminist liberation, equality, and birth control–set a debate in motion all over the city. Do woman have a more important role? In these times, women are too important to survival to worry about anything other than children. Father Roberts said that she betrayed him.

          He said, that a woman not having children is a dubious sin against the church and the Father or his agents will and must inseminate all viable wombs with the Holy Spirit. But, spreading seditious lies amongst the congregation, the body of God, is a cancer on the spirit, a blasphemy, and heresy. The only penance is death.

          Agents of the Church burn the bodies in silence south of the city. The church allows one family member to attend, and for six weeks after, Agents grieve with the survivors. Guests in their home, the Agents minister to anger and loss. They watch for any hint of suppressed emotion or talk of retribution and revenge.

           “The body must be purged of all cancer or it will die,” says Farther Roberts.

          I was not allowed to attend the trial or execution. I was held in protective custody long after the cremation. No family attended; Elise was alone.

           “Ambrose Torres, do you confess your sins against God. Do you seek forgiveness in his eyes?” The preacher says.

          I look to his face. I am still.

           “Ambro,” he puts his hand on my shoulder, “come on, you know me. Don’t make me do this.” He whispers next to my ear. “We’ve known each other a long time. I can save you.”

          I lower my head, but remain silent.

           “Remember Jasmine at Vita’s? She asks about you all the time. Or, Lindsey, Amber, or Rebecca? None are in union. I could get them all joined to you.”

          “Elise?” I say.

           “Forget her Ambrose; she’s gone. Forget the past friend; save yourself. I can help you.”

           “I can’t, I won’t forget what you and your god have done.” My neck stiffens and the anger wells up.

          “Don’t make me do this. We need you,” Benzamin pleads.

          “Forget me.” I clinch my jaw and growl through my teeth, “do your damned duty.”

          “This won’t bring her back,” He says.

           “No, but we’ll be together. Maybe not in your heaven but we’ll be together forever in a place of love.”

          Benzamin shakes his head and looks down at my untied shoes. He bends down, removes his sunglasses and lays them on the ground. Benzie ties my shoes, and looks up. Tears well up in his eyes.

          “I wouldn’t want you to enter eternity shoeless,” he says as the tears roll off his chin on to the top of my shoes. He picks up his sunglasses, stands, and backs away.

           “Ambrose Torres, do you confess?”

          I don’t answer, and two agents push me to the precipice. They tie concrete to my legs, tight, and Shaun offers me a hood. I turn my head away, and start to tremble. It starts deep in my core and moves outward to my arms and legs. It is flood, a fear rush. The concrete is heavy and I start to sway, my head swims as my cheeks go pale.

           “Steady, breath, breath deep and slow,” One of the Agents says. The two balance me and keep me erect. When I calm down, they knell on either side, and bow their heads.

          “Ambrose Torres,” his sunglasses are back on his face as if I am only an abstraction, a character or zombie, just ones and zeros in a game. ”I ask you one last time, do you repent? Confess and join in the bosom of the Lord Roberts.”

          I tremble, and try to breath slow, “I love you Benzie. I forgive you,” then I shout, “I forgive all of you lost fools.”

          I lean to one side too much and fall off the ramp onto my side. The concrete falls off of my legs, which are no longer shackled; a bribe Benzie? Before the agents gain their legs, I am off and running fast to the north end of the bridge. I might be able to get to the viewing platform on the other side and into the rubble that use to be Sausalito.

          I’m wearing the most comfortable running shoes I’ve found in my 20-year addiction to endorphins from the hamster-wheel. They are in tatters around seems, brown faded shoelaces, and an almost holes above my right small toe. It is a clear blue day in North Texas, and it has been several years since I ran this asphalt route. It is difficult on an early summer morning; the air is a thick warm yellow-brown cloud. I will climb the seven hills of west Benbrook multiple times before I return home.

          It’s over a year since I visited mom. I salivate over thoughts of the big breakfast she will have waiting when I finish, three pieces of bacon, two pieces of toast, 2 eggs, scrambled, jam, ketchup, and coffee. Or if I am lucky, perhaps fresh flour tortillas and chiliques; they are pan-fried corn tortilla triangles mixed with scrambled eggs in soupy salsa.

          I run a loop from my house up the street to the middle school, turn right on the main neighborhood road past the historic 30 by 30 foot graveyard, climb to the elementary school, down to a creek crossing, and then climb to the high school where I loop around the main entrance and head back in the opposite direction. At the elementary school, I run the high school loop two more times, and finally, back towards home. It’s 6:00 A.M. 85 degrees, and traffic is light; any later, and the morning commute accumulates as black tar in the back of the throat.

          Jogging is active meditation, stress relief, and a depression buster. I can commune with all living things; when my pace becomes involuntary, my body is occupied and my mind drifts. I think about the day ahead or about my last meal. I work on a problem at work or plan a household repair or vacation. I fantasize about a raise or new car, a new way of life or active retirement, sex or death, or the after life. When the endorphins amass on my consciousness, I vanish completely.

          In the moment, I am an individual and the whole; I am absolute and indeterminable, one and zero, black and white, good and evil, or both sides of a same random coin flip. I understand all, not in a rational way; but reason, emotion, and spirit in equilibrium. Delusion? It is addictive.

          I take off my jersey, and wipe the sweat off my face, the salt out my eyes. I walk slowly up and down the street, cooling down. I will stretch in ten minutes or after my breath is normal, and then breakfast or a shower.

          “Good morning mom.” I say as I look over her shoulder at the electric frying pan she cooks in too often; its battered legs, brown burnt stained element, and gouges in the surface are a testament to her devotion. She doesn’t say anything. She turns her head and smiles. Her eyes light up.

          “It smells good.” I say.

          She jumbles the scrambled eggs in salsa. She flips a tortilla as it bubbles on the comal; it is a ancient black burnt, cast iron stove lid, a family relic. The smell drapes my skin in chills and warm memories.

           “I don’t know if these are good.” She says.

          She always says it. She never measures the ingredients, flour, lard, salt and water. It’s her mother’s recipe and Mom instinctually mixes perfect dough, breaks it apart into balls, rolls each one out, and throwing it from hand to hand, she forms circular sheets. One at a time, Mom slaps it onto the comal. Once, my sisters and wife followed her around the kitchen and measured everything, but the tortillas never turn out as well.

           “Do I have time for a shower?”

           “Yes. Is Elise coming down?” She asks.

          Elise is staying with her mom. We like to separate when we return home, so we can spend the sublime moments with our mothers. Elise’s mom lives down the street.

          “Yes. Should I ask her mom to join us?”

          “Si, we have plenty.” Mom says.

          “She loves your chiliques. She still talks about the enchiladas at our rehearsal dinner.” I say, “I’ll call.”

          Mom looks back to the skillet as I leave, but out of the corner of my eye, I can see a big, big smile on her face.
To Be Continued    [Part 4]

By Friday, we were ready for a break from the smoke. Going to the city in search of fresh air might seem a bit counterintuitive, but a lot of things have been upside down this week.

We took our bikes, of course. Saturday morning just wouldn't be Saturday morning without a ride.

We headed for the Golden Gate Bridge.

It's a lot more fun to cross on a bike.

In Sausalito, a pink Smart Car became an object of desire.

Deep in the redwoods, we stopped at Brass Monkey State Park (it may actually have some other name, but that's what we've known it as since we rode through here on a particularly freezing day last fall).

The rolling hills of Marin.

The sidewalk is always thick with cyclists in front of the Bovine Bakery in Pt. Reyes Station.

And cyclists are only part of the show ...

They asked if we could stay to watch the circus, but it was time for us to roll.

Leaving Stinson Beach for a climb over Mt. Tamalpais.

... and a windy ride back across the bridge (the view from the bridge was great, but the gusting wind was more than strong enough to rule out freeing up a hand for the camera).

A few refreshing adult beverages, a good dinner with friends, and the batteries are charged for another round of posting thermal imaging maps to the web!

Why go there eight straight years?  Well, while we did some things every year, we also did a lot of different things each year.  I really don’t think you can ever do all there is to do there.  Not even living there. 

Yes, we did the cable cars every year.  For the cynics, it is true that the wait at each cable car turn around is longer than the ride itself.  But the views are beyond compare, and worth the wait.  The ride itself is like an early 20^th century thrill ride, and more than once our “companions” on the car spoke a language other than English.  One special time, you could hear Japanese, French, German, English, and whatever language residents of New Hampshire speak.

The view of the city from the north portal of the Golden Gate Bridge is a must.  Hundreds of thousands of people visit Alcatraz each year, and it is true that at times you can hear sounds of the city.  Knowing a world class city is so close, yet impossible to experience, seems almost like cruel and unusual punishment.  Take the evening trip to Alcatraz if you can.  There are special talks by National Park Service guides and views of the sun down and city lights are amazing.

During two of our visits, we stayed at the Washington Square Inn, oddly enough in North Beach, across the street from Washington Square.  The hotel is basically a bed and breakfast, and furnishing in some rooms include antiques.  If you like to people watch, Washington Square is the place.  I spent several hours early one morning on a park bench, drinking a cup of coffee, reading the New York Times, and watching tourists, locals exercising their dogs, and elderly Chinese doing their tai chi routines. 

Do not miss Mama’s for breakfast or Moose’s for lunch.  Mama’s is just across the street from WSI, and Moose’s is next door to WSI.  Of course there are too many wonderful restaurants within a few blocks to name them all.  You will not go hungry if you stay in North Beach.  And at least once, take in the musical review and satire, Beach Blanket Babylon.  The show is hilarious, it is constantly updated to poke fun at our current icons, and it has been sold out night after night for years, so order tickets early.

We have visited the Asian Art Museum several times since it moved from Golden Gate Park to what was the old public library.  Looking at a relic that has existed for close to 2000 years is not boring.  And there are thousands of ancient artifacts on display. The Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park is a delight, though there are far too many visitors for it to be a place of contemplation.

My daughter would have been a hippy 40 years ago, so we have made several trips to Haight-Ashbury.  It is still a little funky, but each year seems to become more gentrified and commercialized.  Something about a Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream Parlor across the street from the Dead house, and a McDonalds just a few blocks away from the intersection of Haight and Ashbury doesn’t seem right.

When we visited the city several years ago, we each decided to go our own way one morning.  My daughter took a bay cruise, my wife had a hotel spa visit, and I went to the Marina, and to quote Otis Redding, spent a few hours “Sittin’ On the Dock of the Bay.” There is parking at the Marina, though you can get there by public transportation.  This time I had a book, a bottle of water, and sat on a park bench just feet away from the lapping bay waters.  I love to people watch, but traffic on the bay is fascinating, with sail boats, ferries, one man kayaks, even ocean going container ships managing to co-exist. If you spend a lot of time rushing around doing too much on a vacation, I recommend a morning like this.

I’ve left out dozens of San Francisco adventures.  You would probably not want to do all the things I have mentioned, but if you try even one, it will be a vacation highlight.

I got to ride my bicycle from around AT & T Park in San Francisco out to Sausalito on Friday. I haven't rode in about a month and it was great. I was climbing the hill at The Presidio when Moody Blue's "Tuesday Afternoon" came on my iPod. The lyrics go something like this:
Tuesday afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see, now I'm on my way
It doesn't matter to me, chasing the clouds away.

Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see, now I'm on my way.
It doesn't matter to me, chasing the clouds away.
Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near, I've got to find out why?
Those gentle voices I hear, explain it all with a sigh.

It was funny because I have always used faster music, i.e. punk or metal, to get me motivated. I was listening to the intro on that sound and just felt a burst of energy as I started my climb. It was an interesting experiment. I usually turn around after crossing the Golden Gate Bridge. I wanted to climb up to Marin Headlands, but the wind was too strong so I decided to head out to Sausalito. I cheated and took the ferry back to San Francisco once I got there. It was fun to get back on a boat and I have a feeling that I may be seeing a lot of water in the coming months.

The music that came up on shuffle as I was crossing the bay was pretty funny. It went something like this:

Switchfoot "Home," Siouxsie and the Banshees "Christine," Prince "Do Me, Baby," Toni Basil "Mickey," and Jeff Buckley "Grace."

I went out with my friend, Darcy, to go check out an exhibit in Oakland yesterday. I had an experience in tolerance yesterday that I will not soon forget.

I was at the bus stop looking at a map for directions. A man made a comment not to crowd him. I simply explained that I was trying to look at the map and would be out of his space in a second. I understand what it feels like when someone is crouching in on your space. He started to