Biking in San Francisco, Part 1

A few weekends ago, we went biking in San Francisco! We've been wanting to do this for a while now, but it always seemed a bit intimidating -- traffic, tourists, those crazy San Francisco hills... Luckily, we had an awesome tour guide! Don did a great job at navigating us around some of the best sights of the city.

Beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean, from a lookout point in the Presidio! The weather was absolutely perfect for a bike ride.

Tour Guide Don also took the role of History Don, explaining the background of the Presidio and its purpose in World War II. We biked up to the old battery ruins, which once housed gigantic cannons, and stood on top of what used to be a cannon base. It was neat to climb up and explore a piece of history!

We got some pretty great views of the Golden Gate! It was so windy, I almost felt like the wind was going to blow me off my feet. It's good the wind blows inland from the sea, and not the other way around...

The next item on our agenda was to bike across the span of the Golden Gate Bridge! I've walked across the bridge before, but never biked it. On busy days, bicyclists are restricted to one side of the bridge, while pedestrians get the other side. It works out well, and means less tourist-dodging for all of us.

I didn't get many shots of the actual biking part, since it's hard to bike and take pictures at the same time!

A punchy glamour shot of my beautiful bike! Mattics kept trying to take a glamour shot of his bike as well, but his fixie is so lightweight that the wind kept blowing it over... much to the amusement of Don and I.

From there, we went through the Marina District to the Palace of Fine Arts. I can't believe that, in all the times I have been to San Francisco, I've never been here! The buildings are stunning, and the whole lakeside scene is just beautiful.

I felt so small inside the giant rotunda!

I also wanted to capture the beautiful ceiling, so we got creative with our selfies :D

We were pretty hungry at this point, so we went to a small wings restaurant (tried duck wings, that was a first!) and then biked up some pretty intense hills to get back to Don's place. We definitely worked off the wings in the time it took to bike back.

Next time, I'll try to get a few pics of the hills... some of them look pretty easy, but it's quite deceiving once you are actually trying to mash your way up!

Thanks for the tour Don, and we will definitely be back to explore more of the city!

Snapshots with Princess Nell

Nell is ready to go :) 

An overcast day is perfect for thinky thoughts.

Green flourishes in the algae-populated wastewater.

Day 29: They still think I am a real tree.

Those two distant dots in the concrete are a man and his dog.

There is so much going on in this backyard... 

To the right, we have the secret garden...

Pink, white, red, and purple bougainvilleas.

Maybe these birds are spelling out a song... too bad I can't read music. 

Little white dove, you came to the wrong neighborhood... 

Homeless people live in those cement dugouts... 

Pigeons in flight.

We arrive at the city of Cypress. 

Some little details that could not be captured by photo were

The intimidating glare emitted by a mob of gangster-looking ravens, strutting their avian swagger. 

The wall of air that hits your face, taking you aback, when an entire flock of dusty gray pigeons suddenly takes flight at the first sense of a threat.

The gaze of an old man as he slowly pulls the strings tighter on the hood of his wife's fleece jacket, and then cocoons her face with his warm hands. 

The concrete and soda-can smell of wastewater, flowing into the artificial stream from car washes, commercial plazas, and nonexistent rainfall. 

The pruned hands of a young woman standing in her backyard, furiously hand washing a load of laundry in a large white plastic bucket. (Twenty minutes later, when I was on my way back home, she was still washing.)

The feeling of nervousness when you suddenly stumble upon a bearded homeless man, and immediately wonder if you can outrun him. 

The feeling of guilt when he merely looks at you with tired eyes framed by deep wrinkles, and you look away.