I left my dollars (and more) in San Francisco

I had a great time over my 10 days in San Francisco, Berkeley, Yosemite, and Kings Canyon. My niece and her partner (who I'll refer to as S. and E.) were gracious hosts and I enjoyed long conversations with S. while we ate at some unusual restaurants around the area. Here are some of the highlights.

First the annoying parts -- the flights. On the way out I had only a half hour to change planes in Phoenix. I was pleased we landed 20 minutes early -- but then we sat on the tarmac for 20 minutes waiting for our gate to open. Then the arriving gate was at the end of concourse A and the departing gate was at the end of concourse D. I handed my boarding pass to one agent as another announced to the terminal saying (essentially), "If you don't get on board now I'm going to cancel your reservation."

The return flight from Oakland to Salt Lake City offered a great view of San Francisco and the north end of the Bay. The problem was getting out of Salt Lake -- the flight was repeatedly delayed. It was to take off at 5:15 and finally left at 9:00. A small compensation was the beautiful sunset while we took off. We landed in Detroit at 2:15 am and I got home at about 3:30 am. I didn't bother with the morning service the next day.

I arrived at the Oakland Airport close to noon on the first Wednesday of the trip. I took BART to Berkeley where S. met me at the station and we walked the half mile to her apartment. We spent that first day in Berkeley, first walking to the pier and looking across the Bay, then taking a bus to the university campus. S. keeps stacks of one dollar bills for bus fare. We thought of climbing the bell tower, but it was closed for the day. We went to a Mexican restaurant for burritos and enjoyed the pleasant idea of a salsa bar -- the strawberry salsa didn't suit my tastes, but several of the others were quite nice. Our last stop was the Berkeley Bowl supermarket. S. and E. are both vegan, so I needed to stock up on foods that I would need (which included my favorite brand of veggie burgers).

S. had to work most mornings (washing dishes at a coffee shop, which is what her masters degree gets her right now), so we agreed on a place and time to meet to spend afternoons together. On Thursday I spent the morning wandering around Castro Street (the gay business district isn't all that big and I had to wait until 11:00 for the bookstore to open). After lunch I walked a ways up the Twin Peaks area, but didn't see much due to fog. The walk back to the Castro was down a 17% grade. I joined her at the GLBT Historical Society to see their current displays. While there are a number of interesting things they didn't provide much context. Two of my niece's professors were mentioned in the displays. A cable car and a bus got us to the Mission district.

S. knows a good number of restaurants with vegan dishes on the menu. The one we visited that evening is called Weird Fish. I had the fish, she didn't. I found out earlier that day that the gay film festival was on that week, but the movie of interest that evening was sold out.

On Friday I took BART and two busses to get to the Golden Gate Bridge. E. says there aren't really towers on that bridge -- nobody can tell the difference through the fog, so why bother building them? From what I saw that morning I could almost agree with her. I walked on the bridge as far as the first tower and still couldn't see the top. Both S. and E. met me in Washington Square and from there we climbed Coit Tower for amazing views of the city. Most of the fog had cleared but we still couldn't see the bridge. Once back down we decided there wasn't enough time to get to the Castro for a movie in the film festival, so we walked over to Pier 39 to see the seals and the stuff that's being sold to the tourists.

That evening we went to the start of the Trans March in Dolores Park, a chance for transgender people and their allies to make some noise. I appreciated that the police treated it like any other parade or march. It was too cold to stick around for very long.

After a late start on Saturday I spent the middle part of the day in the California Academy of Science Museum in Golden Gate Park. Alas, it seems their view of science doesn't go much beyond biology (though I didn't have time for the planetarium). Their display on global warming confirmed I'm at least conscientious about living with low environmental impact. I met S. in mid afternoon. We walked through the AIDS Memorial Garden (created by friends of AIDS victims as a place to hold memorial services), and the Botanical Gardens.

That evening was the Dyke March, also starting from Dolores Park. This time S. wanted to be included in the event, so she gave me keys to the apartment and I made my own way there. I was long asleep before S. and E. returned.

Sunday was Pride Day. All three of us found a spot on Market Street with a decent view of the parade. We stuck it out for 3 hours and from what I heard there was another hour to go. We saw about 150 of the 190 groups in the parade. There were a large number of gay organizations. Most of those were what one might expect (the Gay Men's Chorus singing along with their recording while doing a kick-line), but others were new to me -- gay clog dancing, gay drumline, and many more. Some were contingents from other area pride festivals (such as Oakland) who wisely schedule their events well away from June. Then there were the local and state politicians wanting the gay vote (I saw Mayor Gavin Newsom go by). And don't forget the various companies who were essentially advertising and trying to gain gay cred, Google and Genentech among them. S. was annoyed with only one of them -- a group promoting the vegan diet that made no attempt to relate it to the gay theme of the day.

After lunch I went to the Pride Festival, various stages and booths set up around Civic Center Plaza. Lots of food (none healthy), lots of booze, lots of bands, lots of jewelry and other gay trinkets, lots of groups promoting various causes. The last included a group promoting nudity with members modeling the fashion of choice.

We went back to Berkeley for a quiet supper at a Thai restaurant. The BART trains were quite crowded.

On Monday I picked up a rental car and headed out to Yosemite. The week before I had checked the long-range weather forecast, which said highs in Yosemite would be in the low 70s. So I packed jeans (which were nice in chilly San Francisco). Alas, the day I arrived in Yosemite the high was 98. I settled into my canvas-sided cabin, leaving all food and everything with a scent (like toothpaste) in the bear box outside. Fortunately, no bears were sighted.

I had last been in Yosemite about 11 years ago in October. In the fall such things as Mirror Lake and Yosemite Falls dry up. My evening hike was to Mirror Lake, which indeed had water in it, but I still didn't find a good spot to catch the reflection of Half Dome.

Water was flowing nicely over Yosemite Falls, but in the morning it is in shadow. So I took the hike up to Vernal Falls, which is more strenuous than I remember. Still good views.

After lunch I got close to the Lower Yosemite Falls and took a few of the classic pictures. Then came the big venture of the day of trying to take the steep trail to see the cascade between upper and lower falls. I got to a point where I saw a spectacular view of the valley, then faced a decision. Do I go on to the falls where the trail is still quite steep, having run out of water, or do I turn back? Regretfully, I turned back. Once at the bottom and into nearby Yosemite Lodge, I took a good drink of water and then sat in a chair -- and stayed there for nearly 2 hours. I even dozed a bit. I thought of taking the park shuttle to see nearby El Capitan, but that seemed like too much work. I no longer regretted turning back. I had supper at the Lodge and got back to my cabin village in time to see the setting sun light up Half Dome.

On Wednesday I packed the car, then took the short hike to Bridalveil Falls. That seemed to be a bust because there is no clear view of the falls until one is almost under it and then the spray (backlit by the sun) makes taking pictures useless. In that mood I went back to the car and headed down the road. Close by is Tunnel View and I wondered why anyone would want a view of the tunnel? But a glance over my shoulder was enough for me to pull in. It's named because it is by a tunnel, but the view is the postcard-perfect one of El Capitan on one side, Bridalveil Falls on the other and Half Dome down the length of the valley in between.

Road construction slowed my drive and I was only to Wawona Hotel at lunchtime. Then on to Mariposa Grove of redwood trees. The sign there said I could hike for 2-3 hours up and down the hill to see the grove or I could spend $25 for the tram and a 75 minute tour. I had done the big hike the day before and didn't really have the time, so I paid. It was worth it. Those are big trees!

I headed south out of Yosemite and down the mountains, across the plain to Fresno, then up the mountains to Kings Canyon. The drive was about 3 hours. I arrived at Stony Creek Lodge at 7:25. The desk clerk said, "Have you had supper?" I hadn't. "Then you better go into the pizza parlor and order before they close in 5 minutes. Then come back here and register." So I did. Yes, the pizza parlor was the only hot food. I could have bought something in cans in the grocery section of the market, but pizza (or at least the hot sandwiches, which were pizza with different bread) sounded better than that.

The primary goal on Thursday was to drive through the actual Kings Canyon. It's about 30 miles from the park entrance along a winding road that drops a couple thousand feet. The road runs along the floor of the canyon for a few miles with great views, a couple waterfalls, and a pleasant meadow to hike in. I had lunch at the lodge in the valley. The road does not go all the way through the canyon -- there is definitely a Roads End.

I was getting concerned about the level of gas in my car while in the valley. It was a Toyota Yaris, getting about 38 mpg. and the gauge had 8 bars that disappeared one-by-one as I drove. When one bar remained it would blink. I figured with an eighth of a tank I had 50 miles. Alas, there was no way to tell if it was at "getting sorta close to empty" or "you're running on fumes, buddy." So I bought gas at the first opportunity rather than waiting for an ideal price. That was at Kings Canyon Lodge. The pumps there were built in 1928 and ran on gravity, which meant they weren't very accurate, relying on a gauge within the glass tank. The sign said there was a 6 gallon minimum and gave a price for the six gallons. I wasn't quick with my arithmetic and a bit worried about running out, so I took the six gallons. The price for gas in Berkeley was $3.05 to $3.19 a gallon. The price at my hotel was $3.50. The price at these antique pumps was $4.58 (and it was just as far from the park entrance as my hotel).

Well out of the canyon is the Grant Grove of redwood trees. The star of the grove is named General Grant, billed as the second biggest tree measured in volume of wood (meaning it isn't big by height or width, but a combination of the two). After hiking around them I took a road up to Panorama Point for a great view of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

I turned the other direction from my hotel on Friday morning, going into Sequoia National Park. The star of this area is the tree that beats out General Grant, named General Sherman. The Sherman tree is about 280 feet tall, 30 feet wide, and contains about 52000 cubic feet of wood. These redwoods grow to a height of just under 300 feet, then grow outward from there. Though the wood and bark burn, they don't burn easily, so a ground-cover fire will scar them, but not kill them. The wood is high in tannin, so the fungus and insects that cause trees to decompose won't touch them. That means a fallen redwood, with a giant tangle of roots, could have been there a hundred years.

My last stop in these parks was Moro Rock. It is similar in formation as Half Dome, meaning it sticks up above the surrounding terrain. In the case of Moro Rock it provides a panorama view 400 feet above the area. Once I climbed all those steps I took lots of pictures. On a clear day one can see the Coastal Range mountains on the other side of the San Joaquin Valley. But with a few million people in the valley (and a half-million in Fresno) why would anyone expect it to be clear? I had hoped the little sign that mentioned air quality and been a bit more explicit about what we all could do about it.

I left the parks after lunch and drove back to Berkeley in less than 5 hours. S. and E. took me to an Ethiopian restaurant for supper. I regretfully asked for a fork and spoon to eat my chicken stew rather than trying to scoop it all up with the thin bread.

Under the guidance of S. she and I drove into the Berkeley hills on Saturday morning so that I could get a clear view of the whole bay. Fortunately the fog cooperated and I even saw the towers of the bridge (E. says what I saw was a hologram). On the way back down S. complemented me on my ability of handing the curves in the road. No problem -- I had just had a week of practice.

I took her back to her apartment, gathered up my luggage, returned the rental car, got a ride to the BART station, and headed off to the Oakland airport.

I had the photos processed today (yup, I still use actual film). They look pretty good.

**

I've already mentioned one of my sisters is lesbian and has a partner. I've long known that a cousin is lesbian. She had a long relationship with another woman, but they broke up several years ago. S. is bisexual and has fallen in love with E. a female life-partner. S. shared a bit of news about other members of the family. Another niece has come out as bisexual. I called her father, my brother (who reads this), and though he didn't know (he doesn't use Facebook) he isn't all that surprised. I'm sorry, niece, if I spilled the beans inappropriately. My brother reports his daughter is getting serious about a young man, a fellow student. More news is that a cousin's son has come out as gay. That's six sexual minorities in our extended family.