OK, let’s get it over with. Here it is. The Golden Gate Bridge after we’ve cycled over it, 1240 miles after leaving Vancouver. Looks nice, doesn’t it ?
Anyway, we pulled out of the campground at about 8:15 and rode down towards Fairfax for breakfast. It’s a Saturday morning, so there aren’t many vehicles on the road, but there are hundreds of road bikes. These are serious lycra-clad roadies: a few nod or say hi, but most just ride past heads down, discussing their latest carbon frame with a colleague. Initially, we thought that there was a race on, but no, it’s just an average weekend day apparently. Anyway, here’s a photo without any of them in, riding down the valley towards Sausalito.
We’re in suburbia now, so there’s no problem finding our way, which is well signposted, and also covered in cyclists. Eventually, we pop out in Sausalito, with San Fran just visible in the background. We stop at Mike’s Bikes to buy some brake blocks, and the guy there says, kind of seriously, that the bridge will be busy.
Sausalito is a nice little place, although also super-busy. The latest thing, we surmise, is to rent a bike in San Fran, cycle over the bridge and then get the ferry back, thus avoiding cycling up the flamin’ big hill which the builders of the Golden Gate saw fit to put the thing on. We, however, have to go up it.
Up and up we go, until we reach the parking lot at the Marin end of the bridge.
And then we’re there, cycling over the bridge. I had expected to ride onto the Bridge, look at the cityscape, and think, blimey, 1240 miles. Maybe take a few photos. Savour the moment. But no. Actually riding over the bridge was an unpleasant experience, akin to riding your bike down the pavement in Oxford Street on the last Saturday before Christmas. One walkway was closed, so all the traffic was on one side, and that was narrowed for bridge works. So, thousands of people walking, roadies on carbon fibre bikes, tourists wobbling about on their hire bikes all mixing it, going in both directions on the same walkway. Inevitably, someone ran into me, though fortunately without damage. Here’s Diane keeping her cool.
Anyway, they had a little sign at the other end. No kidding.
We’re happy, anyway. It’s a major milestone arriving here, and we’re going to have a few days off to rest. We cycle through San Francisco on mostly deserted streets to our motel, which is in Ocean Beach, near Golden Gate Park.
It’s a busy old weekend in San Fran, as it’s the annual marathon tomorrow, although this starts at 5:30am, so we’re unlikely to see it. We walk into a restaurant 100 yards from our motel, to find it’s a high-end Vietnamese. We have a marvellous meal to celebrate arriving.
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