..hit the city..

I headed over the bridge last night
into San Francisco(the city).
The bridge has
always blown me away.
The Bay bridge is
actually two bridges
with an island in
the middle. Connecting
Oakland to San Francisco.
Originally when it was
first built in the 1930's
cars drove in both
directions on the top.

The lower level had a commuter
train that ran on it
along with commercial
trucks. As the population grew
and more people got
cars they made the upper deck
one direction, from
Oakland To S.F. The lower deck
now reserved for eastbound
traffic. S.F. to Oakland.
As a kid driving west
across the bridge meant I was
with Mom. She would pick
me up from the east bay
(dad's house) and we
would sway and dip in
her light blue pinto
wagon across the upper deck
pointed west towards
"the city". My Dad is cool,
but back then his temper
was short and had to make
sure my older brother
and i stayed in line. Mom
was different... In
more way's then one. Taking
me skating, to punk
shows,science research
laboratory parties, urban
mini biking, and just
cruising around and
taking in San Francisco. This
was from the ages 5-12.
She moved around the city
a lot, an old bar in dog
patch converted to house,
a warehouse floor in the
old Hamm's brewery building,
and a corner store home
in the panhandle. Always far
out and exciting. So
to this day there is
this anxiety inside
almost every time I
cross that bridge...
but more like a young
kids anxiety
the kind where your eyes
widen and you become silent
and very aware, waiting
to see how this trip to the city
pans out.
When we moved to Oakland
trips across the bridge
became fewer. They actually
started to mean even more.
Maybe to see some crazy
band, or skate contest and
sometimes just run
around golden gate park.
Then i became old enough
to take the train that
goes through the tunnel
under the bay, and that was
the norm. No more bridge,
just the howl of the
train through the tunnel
and the smell of commuters
farting. I missed the bridge,
the view, the air, and
the sound of the tires vibrating
across the expansion
gaps.
The first bike I rode across
the bridge on was a 1972
cb 350. I was in my 20's
and was a little leery about
it... the fucking thing was
slow and the thought of
breaking down on the bridge
is not cool. But like
bombing a hill or dropping
in on a vert ramp, once
you start you got to try to
pull it, the consequences are
not in your favor. Plus i
wasn't about to turn around
on the bridge. So my little
honda whined all the way
across with no problems...
I hit the first exit and turned
back around and headed back
eastbound, victorious and
alive. The more I did it the
more comfortable it became
and the more I could feel that
old excited anxiety
feeling like when i was kid.
Last night was Unseasonably
warm and i had to hit the
city, so I kicked the
shovel to life and pointed it west
towards San Francisco. It
was one of those nights.
Beautiful
and golden. Clear enough
out to see true distance, Alcatraz,
the Golden Gate Bridge, Coit tower,
And that Jagged S.F. skyline
laid out post card perfect.
check it out..... -max-

__ HIT THE CITY __ from max schaaf on Vimeo.