As Joe said on Twitter, we had a particularly epic walk today—from Hayes Valley to Sausalito! Ten beautiful, foggy miles.
After bagels at Momi Toby, we strolled in a zigzag fashion over to the southeast corner of the Presidio and on through it. With the cool fog blowing overhead it both sounded and smelled fantastic. I fully expected to emerge at the north edge to find the fog burning off, but it was, if anything even lower and thicker. Above was our view as we went up the hill toward the Golden Gate Bridge.
To our bemusement, the bridge itself was invisible, merely announcing its presence loudly with a foghorn mid-span. We were grinning at the ridiculousness of it as we crossed—finding we could barely see Fort Point when directly above it—and our spirits were mercifully not dampened. It was windy, but it wasn't bitterly cold (as it often can be).
The winds on the Marin side of the bridge cleared the air a little, but we still couldn't see much farther than a city block or two into the distance. The viewpoint there provided us with bathrooms, a refilled water bottle, and fuel for the next stretch of the journey in the form of a churro from a woman walking through the crowd, dispensing fried happiness.
We followed the bike path until it connected to Alexander Avenue and then walked downhill toward Sausalito, feeling the temperature shifting and seeing the visibility lift as we went. We hadn't reached the bottom of the hill before we both shed our hoodies. It was still windy, though, with wisps of fog still trying to fight their way over the hills above us.
We rested briefly again when we reached the bottom, sitting on a nice bench with what must be a glorious view on a really clear day and was still quite fine today. We tried a trick that turned out to work nicely: We each swapped our socks over to the other foot. A tiny change in where the cushion was pressed down from the miles so far, but enough to put a spring back in our step for the walk along that beautiful bayfront promenade.
By the time we'd passed through downtown Sausalito—well-populated with tourists speaking a variety of languages and supported by an equally multi-lingual set of signage—we were feeling the journey. It was only the prospect of that delicious meal at Fish which kept us in steady motion.
The double reward of good food and—praise be!—sitting was accentuated by the beauty of the spot. We often walk from home to our favorite restaurants, but not usually ten miles. Though the journey was a big part of the payoff, this was definitely worth the trip.
It was much more clear, though fog continued to billow over the tops of the hills and through the Golden Gate, but despite the sun started to feel quite chilly to us both. We didn't linger after our meal as long as we'd planned to rest our feet, but instead warmed ourselves off walking back to catch the ferry.
Our timing was great—we made it to the 3:50pm boat with ten minutes to spare, rather than having to wait until 5:30pm—and our quick pace had warmed us up enough to enjoy the view from the outside deck almost all the way back to the San Francisco Ferry Building, where, pleasingly, a #21 bus was waiting nearby to promptly carry us home. A fine day!