We almost fell getting on the bike the first time, but by the end of our five mile ride, we agreed this was the highlight of the trip. And we even had time for a hike to see the Golden Gate Bridge (for the 69th time) before our ferry left for San Francisco. Fifteen minutes on a gently rocking ferry heading north from San Francisco is Angel Island State Park, previous home of the US Army, Chinese refugees and many others across the years. My cousin Carrie suggested we explore it, so we rented a tandem bike to make a simple outing more characteristic of a Douglass adventure.
Getting on the first few times nearly ended our fun, but we rapidly learned to communicate (or rather, Sandi resorted to giving Army-like commands to coordinate our mounting efforts). Once aboard, we cruised easily over rolling hills with varying views of the Golden Gate Bridge. Sandi found himself thinking that for once, he was in control of where we rode (I usually play tour guide when we ride). Just then I inadvertently leaned and forced him to turn, shattering his moment of victory. He repaid me by refusing to brake on a steep downhill. It’s one thing to fly down hills when you have your own brakes; it’s entirely another when someone else is in control, and you can only give them backrubs to win back their favor… But on the other hand you can also sightsee without concern for navigation and talk on your cell phone while providing peddle power!
However, I’m not sure Sandi really deserved help peddling after the heart attack he gave me earlier in the week. A few days before, we had driven down Lombard Street, (the “crookedest street in the world”) with a car-full of characters. After the winding decent I parked at the bottom and stepped out of the driver’s seat to snap a picture. When I turned back around the car was rolling downhill straight for a row of parked cars and a sidewalk crawling with pedestrians! I leapt for the door and yanked it open only to find it occupied – by my wonderful husband who apparently has little concern for the condition of my heart! Thankfully there was a red punch-buggy nearby so I could give him a good smack before running around to the passenger side amidst roaring laughter from the packed back seat.
We were in San Francisco to compete on the Fellowship of Christian Athletes – Endurance team in the well-known Accenture Escape from Alcatraz Triathlon. For more stories from the race, visiting my cousin Carrie and our jaunts around town, see my other posts, “the Great Escape from Alcatraz”, “In the days before Alcatraz”, and “After Alcatraz”.