This morning we left Santa Clara at about 8:30 a.m., hoping to avoid most of the commuter rush as we drive to San Francisco. The carpool lanes in that area run from 5-9 a.m. Yikes. Can you imagine 5 a.m. traffic jams?
You ever heard of the butterfly effect? (No, not the movie.) It's the theory of seemingly small, unrelated events cascading into a big one. Example: a butterfly flaps its wings in Tokyo, and somewhere in California there's a traffic jam. Correction: Everywhere in California, there's a traffic jam.
You'll be driving along, and it's like a switch is flipped. As if suddenly, everyone decides they must drive slow, bumper to bumper, starting and stopping. Traffic will slowly creep forward, and then the switch flips back again: everyone suddenly picks up speed and drives fast again. We think they're actually delayed traffic waves, rippling back from the interchanges where people are suddenly jockeying to change lanes and catch their exit. But it is bizarre when you seem to have a traffic jam that has no apparent cause.
Anyway, the traffic isn't too bad by the time we're driving in, although we do avail ourselves of the commuter lanes. Two or more people = commuter express! Even if traffic is backed up in the commuter lanes, it's always faster than the other four or five single-vehicle lanes.
However, by the time we're reaching San Francisco proper, there's no avoiding the traffic. We're driving on a double-platformed bridge, and there's flyovers and bypasses branching out all over. These are what we call "spaghetti monsters" when we see them on the GPS - that diagram of intersecting roads with tendrils heading off in every direction does look a bit like a plate of spaghetti. Helping us navigate these freeways is one thing that the GPS does relatively well.
Parking in San Francisco is hard to come by and expensive, so we park at Pier 23, which is not far from the areas we want to frequent today ($25 for a flat daily rate). We have an Alcatraz tour booked at 1:10, and they start boarding at 12:40, so we have to be at Pier 33 by then.
The Golden Gate Bridge is about 5 miles off, so we catch a cab to take us there so we can walk across. That sets us back another $16. But it's quick!
We hop out at the base of the Golden Gate Bridge. Hey, look, it's more fog - you can't even see the top of the bridge, it looks like it's been caught in the clouds - but you kind of expect San Francisco to be foggy. However, Marin County (on the other side) is sitting in the sun. Apparently money can buy happiness and sunny days, too!
Activate pedestrian powers! We boot it across the bridge, destroying all slower pedestrians in our path, and we step out at the viewpoint over in Marin County. Then it's already time to head back. We are, I think, the only people to walk all the way across and back (except for the heavily-armed cop walking the beat), because we don't see any of those weenies on the way back.
We do, however, see one million and two people riding rent-a-bikes. Damn it. How did we do all this research and read about parking issues and public transportation, and miss out on the idea of renting bikes. Doh! Another stunning research failure. (If only I'd kept that Google bike...)
Some of the biking tourists are wobbly wheelers, veering out of their bike lanes and into my pedestrian lane. Some of them are huffers and puffers, pushing their bikes uphill. If you haven't ridden a bike since Grade 3, maybe you should've trained more before getting on this one, dude. I could totally kick all of your biking-tourist-butts! Except for you, spandex San Francisco biker - you seem pretty buff. (It's all those hills.)
Yes, we are bike-less, but we can and will out-walk anyone. But it's a LONG walk back to Fisherman's Wharf, and then we still have to walk further to make it to Pier 33. We get there just in time to start boarding, which means "Go stand in a long, snaking line that's worthy of Disneyland on a busy day." My feet are tired. "Yeah? You should have thought of that before you embarked on a life of crime!" the boat tour people shout at me. I think they're getting a little TOO into their roles.
Do I get seasick? Who knows? Guess we'll find out. And that answer appears to be no. The boat bobs happily along, covering the 1.25 mile distance in about five minutes. There are people all around us wearing heavier jackets and scarfs and gloves. Weenies.
So we're at Alcatraz. They've got a very good audio tour, narrated by former prison guards and prisoners. If you're properly able to follow directions, the audio tour leads you through various areas of the prison as it recounts events like the Alcatraz Riot and the famous "escape" from Alcatraz. The only problem with it is that it does create pretty predictable bottlenecks in the prison. But, with that many people passing through, it's probably impossible to avoid.
It's SO windy out on the exercise yard. I think the building funnels the wind down into the court, and the walls keep it swirling around there. And it was even windier out in front of the prison. Stephen stopped to put on his windbreaker, and it was trying to fly away on him. If he'd lost his grip on it, it would've been gone forever. I imagine it did get very cold and chilly in that prison, especially in their rainy winter season.
It's a very interesting tour. You spend about two hours or so wandering around.
On the way back, Stephen and I staked out a spot right at the bow of the boat for the trip back to San Francisco. It's just a mile and a quarter back to San Francisco, but it seems like a really long way when you think of swimming through that choppy water. Brr.
Since we hadn't eaten since breakfast, and it was now after 4 p.m., we went to a place called Chowder's at Fisherman's Wharf, where we got some clam chowder in a sourdough bowl. Yum! A local pigeon flew in the front door, right to the back of the restaurant; it found a shrimp on the floor, ate it and flew out. Guess it must be his favourite spot.
Fisherman's Wharf is a complete tourist trap, filled with shops. And, just like a magnetic force, Stephen was drawn to Magnetron, his most favourite store ever. (It sells magnets. Duh.)
At a chocolate specialty store, we found Aero bars! Yes, imported from Canada. You can buy them $2.99 each (that's for a regular size bar).
Time to go. After walking back and forth over the Golden Gate, then to Fisherman's Wharf and past to Pier 33, then walking around Alcatraz, then back to Fisherman's Wharf, then back again to get to Pier 23, where we left the vehicle, we're getting a bit tired of walking. (I mapped it out later - it's something over 10 miles, which is over 16 kms. No wonder we were getting tired!)
By about 6 p.m., we were driving out of San Francisco, which is decidedly busier than when we came in. The Golden Gate Bridge has a bunch of traffic gates across the road that they use to filter the number of lanes heading each way. The wind is strong enough that it's buffeting even our big vehicle a bit. LOTS of traffic - but we can still use the commuter lane.
Our speedy progress is somewhat impeded by the presence of a state trooper behind me. And then, oh look, there's a California Highway Patrol guy in front of me. Surrounded by cops. That'll crimp your speedy travel plans. However, the chips guy is gone in no time (he's just checking the car pool lane to make sure there's no cheaters), and the cop behind me seems a bit speedy himself.
I've noticed the state cops really come out at night. You don't see them so much during the day, but in the evening, they're lurking out on the side of the highways a lot. We usually have a canary that we follow, though.
At about 8:30 in the evening, we finally called it a night in the little town of Willets. It took us three tries to find a room; we ended up at the Best Western, which at least has free breakfast and a spa. I do love the spa. Especially after a long day of walking.
Tomorrow, we're going to Redwood Park, and then on into Oregon.
You ever heard of the butterfly effect? (No, not the movie.) It's the theory of seemingly small, unrelated events cascading into a big one. Example: a butterfly flaps its wings in Tokyo, and somewhere in California there's a traffic jam. Correction: Everywhere in California, there's a traffic jam.
You'll be driving along, and it's like a switch is flipped. As if suddenly, everyone decides they must drive slow, bumper to bumper, starting and stopping. Traffic will slowly creep forward, and then the switch flips back again: everyone suddenly picks up speed and drives fast again. We think they're actually delayed traffic waves, rippling back from the interchanges where people are suddenly jockeying to change lanes and catch their exit. But it is bizarre when you seem to have a traffic jam that has no apparent cause.
Anyway, the traffic isn't too bad by the time we're driving in, although we do avail ourselves of the commuter lanes. Two or more people = commuter express! Even if traffic is backed up in the commuter lanes, it's always faster than the other four or five single-vehicle lanes.
However, by the time we're reaching San Francisco proper, there's no avoiding the traffic. We're driving on a double-platformed bridge, and there's flyovers and bypasses branching out all over. These are what we call "spaghetti monsters" when we see them on the GPS - that diagram of intersecting roads with tendrils heading off in every direction does look a bit like a plate of spaghetti. Helping us navigate these freeways is one thing that the GPS does relatively well.
Parking in San Francisco is hard to come by and expensive, so we park at Pier 23, which is not far from the areas we want to frequent today ($25 for a flat daily rate). We have an Alcatraz tour booked at 1:10, and they start boarding at 12:40, so we have to be at Pier 33 by then.
The Golden Gate Bridge is about 5 miles off, so we catch a cab to take us there so we can walk across. That sets us back another $16. But it's quick!
Activate pedestrian powers! We boot it across the bridge, destroying all slower pedestrians in our path, and we step out at the viewpoint over in Marin County. Then it's already time to head back. We are, I think, the only people to walk all the way across and back (except for the heavily-armed cop walking the beat), because we don't see any of those weenies on the way back.
We do, however, see one million and two people riding rent-a-bikes. Damn it. How did we do all this research and read about parking issues and public transportation, and miss out on the idea of renting bikes. Doh! Another stunning research failure. (If only I'd kept that Google bike...)
Some of the biking tourists are wobbly wheelers, veering out of their bike lanes and into my pedestrian lane. Some of them are huffers and puffers, pushing their bikes uphill. If you haven't ridden a bike since Grade 3, maybe you should've trained more before getting on this one, dude. I could totally kick all of your biking-tourist-butts! Except for you, spandex San Francisco biker - you seem pretty buff. (It's all those hills.)
Yes, we are bike-less, but we can and will out-walk anyone. But it's a LONG walk back to Fisherman's Wharf, and then we still have to walk further to make it to Pier 33. We get there just in time to start boarding, which means "Go stand in a long, snaking line that's worthy of Disneyland on a busy day." My feet are tired. "Yeah? You should have thought of that before you embarked on a life of crime!" the boat tour people shout at me. I think they're getting a little TOO into their roles.
Do I get seasick? Who knows? Guess we'll find out. And that answer appears to be no. The boat bobs happily along, covering the 1.25 mile distance in about five minutes. There are people all around us wearing heavier jackets and scarfs and gloves. Weenies.
It's SO windy out on the exercise yard. I think the building funnels the wind down into the court, and the walls keep it swirling around there. And it was even windier out in front of the prison. Stephen stopped to put on his windbreaker, and it was trying to fly away on him. If he'd lost his grip on it, it would've been gone forever. I imagine it did get very cold and chilly in that prison, especially in their rainy winter season.
It's a very interesting tour. You spend about two hours or so wandering around.
On the way back, Stephen and I staked out a spot right at the bow of the boat for the trip back to San Francisco. It's just a mile and a quarter back to San Francisco, but it seems like a really long way when you think of swimming through that choppy water. Brr.
Since we hadn't eaten since breakfast, and it was now after 4 p.m., we went to a place called Chowder's at Fisherman's Wharf, where we got some clam chowder in a sourdough bowl. Yum! A local pigeon flew in the front door, right to the back of the restaurant; it found a shrimp on the floor, ate it and flew out. Guess it must be his favourite spot.
Fisherman's Wharf is a complete tourist trap, filled with shops. And, just like a magnetic force, Stephen was drawn to Magnetron, his most favourite store ever. (It sells magnets. Duh.)
At a chocolate specialty store, we found Aero bars! Yes, imported from Canada. You can buy them $2.99 each (that's for a regular size bar).
Time to go. After walking back and forth over the Golden Gate, then to Fisherman's Wharf and past to Pier 33, then walking around Alcatraz, then back to Fisherman's Wharf, then back again to get to Pier 23, where we left the vehicle, we're getting a bit tired of walking. (I mapped it out later - it's something over 10 miles, which is over 16 kms. No wonder we were getting tired!)
By about 6 p.m., we were driving out of San Francisco, which is decidedly busier than when we came in. The Golden Gate Bridge has a bunch of traffic gates across the road that they use to filter the number of lanes heading each way. The wind is strong enough that it's buffeting even our big vehicle a bit. LOTS of traffic - but we can still use the commuter lane.
Our speedy progress is somewhat impeded by the presence of a state trooper behind me. And then, oh look, there's a California Highway Patrol guy in front of me. Surrounded by cops. That'll crimp your speedy travel plans. However, the chips guy is gone in no time (he's just checking the car pool lane to make sure there's no cheaters), and the cop behind me seems a bit speedy himself.
I've noticed the state cops really come out at night. You don't see them so much during the day, but in the evening, they're lurking out on the side of the highways a lot. We usually have a canary that we follow, though.
At about 8:30 in the evening, we finally called it a night in the little town of Willets. It took us three tries to find a room; we ended up at the Best Western, which at least has free breakfast and a spa. I do love the spa. Especially after a long day of walking.
Tomorrow, we're going to Redwood Park, and then on into Oregon.
It's actually called the 'Chaos theory' - butterfly effect is a slang term for it...in case you wanted to know!
ReplyDeleteI got to go on the night tour of Alcatraz - it was neat, and a little freaky, but I liked seeing the skyline of SF at night.
you can rent segueways too! that would be my speed, rather than the bikes.
I loved my SF trip...all that seafood! and we got lucky and hit the chocolate festival at Ghiardelli! and we walked everywhere up and down those hills....ahhh memories.