Bridge Update Or I Decline A Trainride

It was Thursday when Willie called and asked if I was still intent upon driving to San Francisco on the weekend even though the Bay Bridge was closed. He said an alternative northern approach might consume hours over a clogged Golden Gate, that I should take the train to Richmond and BART under the bay, that anyone who did otherwise should have his head examined. Fortunately, I had my head examined in July and was pronounced an imbecile, which banished all doubt about which mode of transport I would choose. Still, I consulted an aerial view of the route.

Our aerial view is really a Normaphoto of clouds turned upside down, which makes it look like you're flying. You can do this at home. Here is the original:

So I packed a few items not usually furnished in guest bathrooms-- wire brush and claw hammer for subduing my hair-- then followed the clouds where they'd taken up residence on the car hood.

We got in and the hoodclouds directed us to San Rafael, where we turned south for the Golden Gate.  Bridge was clear, except where it attaches to the sky.

We arrived after suffering no great traffic challenges and got to dance with our offspring.

And wander off to beautiful, contemplative places.

This required walking, walking where I used to run. Oh, I could still run probably. There was a time when I could outrun boys twice my age --long ago. But now at age 63...well, those boys are 126...Gee! I could still outrun most of them. But wandering isn't running, is it?  Wandering is when one's sweater and hair approach the color of Pacific sand and fog rolls in on waves to blend with the fog in one's head. It was time to head inland.

That was Sunday, and traffic was heavier on 19th Street but they had brought in more fog to hold the bridge up and,

 to our delight and relief, it did not come down.