San Francisco Days 1975

  We'd leave Los Gatos early in the morning; drive into the coastal mountain range on State Route 9, switching to State Route 35 North.  The mountain turns would test our suspension and our nerves.  Sometimes we'd get a caravan going.  At State Route 92, a right turn led to Junipero Serra Freeway (the 280), a left turn led to Half Moon Bay and PCH 1 (Cabrillo Highway).  Which way you turned depended on how fast you wanted to get to San Francisco.  Leisurely, scenic, relaxed was always the way to go (this is California, after all, laid back and mellow).  The ocean breeze wafted in the fish and salt-water aroma, the waves bashing the shore endlessly, mostly sunny days, windows down, cassette deck pushin' out my favorite tunes.

Once in the city we wandered at will, exploring the hills, finding the neighborhood treasures, off the beaten path, away from the tourist tee shirt vendor havens.   This day we found Marina Green on the bay side of the Golden Gate Bridge.  It was a long, rectangular park populated by the locals.  Parking, we saw the joggers, free dogs, the bicyclists, the walkers, the picnickers and the sunbathers.  Our attention was drawn to this huge, colorful canopy half filled with ocean air, children's silhouettes along the bottom, happy, screaming, little voices.  A good day at the park.
 
The gusting wind suddenly picked up the canopy and we realized it was a kite.  A dozen little bodies were suddenly airborne, children clutching to the hem.  It rose to, perhaps, 10-feet, some children letting go, others hanging on for dear life.  Some that let go twisted and twirled in the tempest, crashing to the ground in a heap, bouncing.  The kite crashed like kites typically do.  In the aftermath peals of laughter from the children, screams from the mothers, "Do it again, do it again, PLEASE!" could be heard, all to no avail.  The free ride was finished.
 
Free now of its tender human ballast the kite rose majestically, tethered by a cable to the ground, which the kite master worked with skill and experience, providing a point of focus for all of us looking up.  We basked in all the activity, talked, and enjoyed our day off, then started thinking about heading home.  Driving down the Coast Highway once again, we watched the sun setting out the passenger side window.  Before it touched the horizon we pulled over so we could safely view the green flash. 
 
Pulling into Los Gatos we stopped at Mountain Charley's for a bite to eat and a cold drink.  We went to the bar afterwards to have a deep discussion with our old friend Jack and listen to the live music.  The bourbon burn matched our sunburn in heat and intensity, providing us with a glow of satisfaction inside and out.  The best part about the day was the realization that tomorrow was Sunday – we could sleep in!