Sunday, September 02, 2007
Another day on the road
I had quite a day today, first stopping at the derelict piers below my hill at Mission Rock (more cement balls!), then at the Ferry Building where the sun on the head-sculptures, Yin & Yang, caught my eye.
I kept on around the waterfront, enjoying the tourists enjoying San Francisco (maybe a few locals, too). I went into the Sports Basement for some socks and then to a cafe for cold milk and a bagel with P.B. & J.
Next, it was a climb over the hill in the Presidio and another stop at the variety store in Laurel Village, where I'd hoped to find a new plastic lizard for the dashboard on Jill's new car (no luck).
From there I went into Golden Gate Park and followed the tie-dye to Speedway Meadow for the Summer of Love concert. I could have left my bike at the free, secure bike parking lot, but I knew I'd probably walk a mile and I didn't want to return; I wanted to just keep going.
The crowd, as expected, was immense. (30,000 per the news tonight) And tres amusing. There were more young people than aging hippies (whew!), but the aging, pot-bellied hippies were more interesting (love the overalls).
I walked and walked and held my camera overhead, trying to capture the immensity and happiness of the scene, knowing I couldn't. The music was nostalgic and oh so wonderful. I caught Canned Heat, sounding the same, and many others whose names I've forgotten, (I never did make a point of remembering what name went with what music.)
But after I came across the naked man promoting himself for mayor, and as the crowd got more and more dense, I decided to leave that scene for higher ground. I went up a path into the trees; the ground was sandy, difficult to keep my feet in bicycle sandals from slipping, and a young man took over and pushed my bike up the steep hill.
I went as far as the Polo Field before circling back on the hill on the other side of the meadow.
A man on a bike went by me, looking exactly like someone I know, but enough not alike that I didn't stop him. Later, I ran into him sitting on the hillside, listening to the music and took his photo. Still not sure he isn't someone I know. (He didn't have enough of his own jewelry in evidence, otherwise, it would definitely be him.)
On my way out of the park I came across so much more music that I had to follow it and see what was going on. At one point I was hearing straight-up jazz in one ear (from the de Young Museum's garden) and a big band playing Zippity-do-dah (in the park band shell) in the other. It was very strange. And amazingly, perfectly, wonderful.
From there, dodging many small children on their new bikes, I came across the Conservatory of Flowers, still looking like a garish, over-saturated postcard from the 40s. I had to stop and take its picture again.
There was more - I see much, much more than I can possibly record or show here.
And I had a pretty darn good ride, too.