Day 7: Don’t Tell Me This Town Ain’t Got No Heart

Mardi Gras and Chinese New Year

Pristine natural forests and sea shores surround this city of nearly 900,000 that wraps around a cluster of hills overlooking San Francisco Bay. Raeray’s adventure was a search for natural beauty, and this was the motherlode. The morning began with a drive through twisted highways through Mill Valley and up Mount Tamalpais into a dense, almost tropical area called Muir Woods. We had to make reservations a day ahead of time to park in the national preserve, and it was easy to see why after navigating the twisted curves and steep terrain. Traffic was bad enough chopped into half-hour segments. Penny Lane had to wait in the car for Raeray to tour the woods.  Pets might disturb this delicate natural setting.

Gigantic redwoods, babbling streams and lush ferns abound along the series of trails cut among the trees. Hikers can spend a day amid the beauty, or tourists can take an hour tour. Either way, the beauty is breath-taking. Raeray posed for pictures inside of a few massive openings among the tree trunks. It made us hunger to someday see the even larger ones farther up the coast.  The park admission was $10 per person, and the parking reservation cost $8. From there, Muir Beach was a short drive away. It is another carefully preserved natural setting hidden in a Pacific cove.

Raeray had one more scenic stop before reaching the bustling city. It was called the Golden Gate Vista Point, perched amid the Murin Headlands just north of the city. Another twisting road along grassy cliffs led up to a gorgeous look over the Golden Gate Bridge with San Francisco in the background and Alcatraz floating in the bay off to the left. Each curve was widened for parking, and every spot was quickly snatched up by a string of cars dragging up and down the path. Raeray snatched a spot near the top of the drive and snapped a few selfies that captured the surroundings. Tourists along the way were speaking mirade languages. The mountain knew no solitude.

From there, the drive is only a few minutes to Fisherman’s Wharf, across the Golden Gate Bridge and along quickly moving city streets. While the bridge is a toll road, Raeray never stopped. Cameras along the way photograph license tags, and the California highway department mails out a bill for the $6.75 fee. Michael Rae will be watching for it back home. A local at the Java Beach Café the previous day had told Raeray a parking secret, about the 4-hour free parking slots where Van Ness Avenue runs into the Municipal Pier. It took us only a few minutes to land a spot there where Morgan Rae unloaded her bicycle to take a quick ride to the end of the pier and to the nearest public restroom. She mounted the bike back on its rack on the Subaru and found Michael Ray and Penny Lane relaxing on the steps behind the Maritime Museum.

Penny was very calm wandering the shoreline streets among thousands of tourists. We were searching for a restaurant, but found a better alternative with the streetside vendors of  fresh fish, sandwiches and fried delicacies. We ordered a crab sandwich, curly fries and water for just under $20. Walking away, though, we realized we might have been short-changed by a few dollars. We ate and listened to a street musician who was doing more karaoke than actual performing. His show was miniscule compared to another player down the wharf, whose guitar had been transformed into a keyboard, bass and drum set. The charity he claimed to be supporting sounded a little fishy. A nearby rapper – a quite young black woman – had a toddler inside her tent. We saw all of this as we traveled the bay looking for sea lions. We found them barking and basking in the sun at Pier 39. After watching them, Chinatown would be the next stop.

Cable cars are one of the highlights of San Francisco, but they cost $7 with no senior discount. Raeray could ride the electric buses for $2.75 and $1.35 each – guess who gets the bargain. A woman named Shelly explained all of this waiting at the stop The Embarcadero. She said her bus would take us to Chinatown and that we could catch the 30 bus back to our car. She said to get off the bus with her at Washington Park and walk up to Stockton and a few more blocks to experience Chinatown. Then we could come back and catch our bus for free up until the time listed on the bottom of our ticket. Shelly had lived in San Francisco for the last 9 years and loved it. She was born in Los Angeles and lived in San Diego, but this was home now. She was probably Michael Ray’s age. She also told where we might get good ice cream nearby, then sent us on our way.

We did find Chinatown; everyone was babbling in a foreign language and buying strange fruits and vegetables. We wondered where all of these people came from to buy so much produce and so many groceries. The streets were crowded, or so we thought. We hadn’t seen the Chinese New Year festival going on a few blocks away. The streets there were shoulder to shoulder for three blocks at least, and we never really learned what they were celebrating. But it was fun and quite picturesque. We needed to find the 30 bus at Columbus and Union streets. But first, we found the Naia ice cream shop Shelly had recommended.

The bus stop was next to Washington Park, where young people and families lounged in the grass. A huge cathedral was the backdrop on one side and artists displayed paintings on the other. Morgan Rae struck up a conversation with a painter named Michael Koller who knew of Huntsville, Alabama. He had gone to art school with another student from there, but he never mentioned a name. It was quite a coincidence that his name was so close to ours. Waiting at Washington Park, we heard jazz music in the distance and a disturbance a block away. Suddenly, a group of musicians and marchers with umbrellas approached. It was a Mardi Gras parade of sorts, or at least what New Orleans residents call a “second line.” The group marched past us just as bus 30 arrived. With Penny Lane in tow, we caught it and headed back to the car.

Sunset tonight would be at Twin Peaks if we could get there in time. Twin Peaks is another park in San Francisco, this one on the west side of the city. It is two grassy knolls that stand high above the city with a view of the ocean to the west and city to the east. The hike to the top burned Michael Ray’s muscles, but it was well worth the climb. The view is breath-taking. The second peak was just to our north, and both were crowded with tourists and townspeople just enjoying the scenery. The wind was brisk and the air chilly, but everyone laughed and shot photos as they awaited sunset. It was lovely. After the sun retreated, Michael Ray sought the warmth of the car as Morgan Rae took in the colorful skies that always precede the darkness. When she came down the hill, Morgan Rae had befriended an Australian tourist named Shirley, who had planned to take an Uber back to her hostel. No need for that; we could drive her. Shirley was a nurse from Sydney, and she had another week to travel south to Los Angeles and maybe farther. Morgan Rae told her they might meet again later. Shirley wanted to see Lombard Street before leaving San Francisco, so with her vast experience, Morgan Rae volunteered to manipulate the curves once again to show Shirley. We drove back into the city’s center and again up the steep inclines to Lombard’s famous block. After that, Raeray took Shirley to her hostle in the Tenderloin section and then headed back to San Rafael.

This was our last night together. We had no plans for a final dinner. Morgan Rae needed to stock up on water and dog food, so we went to Trader Joe’s market. She bought a Southwest salad for the night’s meal. Michael Ray wanted some California fast food, but the nearest In-and-Out Burger was miles away. He ran into a nearby Whole Foods and made up his own box lunch. It consisted of beef stew, green beans, macaroni and cheese, a salad and apple pie. Raeray headed to the room. This was the last night. The journey had been inspiring and especially bonding for a father and daughter. Morgan Rae would continue the adventures after Michael Ray was gone. All was good with Raeray’s Great Adventure.