Day 1: Oakland to San Francisco to Vallejo

Ride Stats:
Distance - 15 miles
Ave. Speed - 9 mph
Elevation Climbed - 440 ft
Temperature - 65 F to 94 F

Finally! It's here! The long-awaited start to our cross-country tour! We can finally stop talking about it and actually start doing it! For those of you who have suffered through my posts, leading up to this day, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You deserve a gold medal for perseverance.

The goal for today was to kick-off the ride with the traditional rear wheel-dipping (near the Golden Gate Bridge) and then positioning ourselves without the worry of ferry schedules, for tomorrow's ride to Sacramento.

We had a delicious breakfast, at a nearby diner (The Buttercup), went back to the room to get our bikes and bags, then raced over to catch the 9:00 ferry (from Oakland to San Francisco-Pier 41). Angela had walked over to the ferry from the diner, while we retrieved our bikes at the hotel. The ferry operator actually closed the admission gate at 9:00, but Angela pleaded with him to wait since she knew we were only seconds away. We rolled around the corner at 9:01. Angela yelled over to us, made the guy open the gate, and we were on! So far, so good. I love it when a plan comes together.





Here's the Oakland Ferry Terminal, as we were pulling away. So far, after 0.7 miles of actual bicycling, I feel great. My legs are hardly tired, and I'm brimming with confidence. This journey should be a piece of cake ;-).





Karl and Ian, making some adjustments to Ian's rear rack and panniers.





Angela (Karl's wife) saved the day with holding this ferry. We would've waited until 10:40 for the next one. That may have been enough for us to just cancel the whole tour. I hate waiting for anything!





The sun was out once we started to cross over to San Fran. I may actually need these sunglasses, after all.





I believe these are used for loading/unloading containers from our Pacific Rim trading partners. I'm assuming we actually export some containers with product over to other countries...don't we?





Angela taking pictures off the port side of the boat...or, is that the starboard side?





The City by the Bay...San Francisco. I hope you're ready for us.





The Three Amigos...Karl, Ian, and myself.





Karl told Angela that he hopes we don't do anything on this trip to warrant a stay at Alcatraz!

We met my sister-in-law (Pattie), and her friend (Robert), at Pier 41. Pat was nice enough to come over, pick Angela up, and then drive over to the beach near Fort Point, for our picture-taking ceremony. Thanks, Pat!

We started riding our bikes along the Embarcadero and then found ourselves in the middle of a Gay Pride Fun Run. There were hundreds of runners, and other cyclists, and hordes of tourists,...we carefully picked our way through all of them without hitting anyone. It was a tad stressful, but we made it to the beach.





Pushing our heavy bikes through the soft/deep sand proved to be a challenge. The waves behind us kept creeping closer, and closer, until they soaked both of our feet. Note the fog hanging over the Golden Gate.





Here's one with Ian. He "thinks" he's only going to bike with us for a few days. I'm hoping he decides to stick with us, all the way to KC.

After a long photo session, with Angela and Pat taking pictures with 3 cameras, we rode back to the Ferry Terminal Building, to catch the ferry over to Vallejo.





Here's my bike, moments before the ferry operators screamed at us to get inside the boat. Little did I know that this ferry flies! We did 0 to 60 in five seconds (well, that's what it felt like). I watched my bike get coated with salt water spray, from the high speed. My handlebar bag flew open and the contents looked like they were going to fly out! I begged the operator to let me out there. He caved and unlocked the door for me. I buckled the top down, but he yelled at me to get back in before I could reposition the bike.
I had a long clean-up session, to get the salt off of everything, when we got to our hotel.





Karl looking over the rail...Ian's bike fell down and Karl's handlebar bag opened up. He had the same grouchy operator unlock the doors so he could secure his bag before his "wad of 50’s" blew away into the sea.

Our ride over to the Ramada Inn, in Vallejo, was nice. Much quieter, fewer people, hardly any cross-dressers jogging by...