San Francisco Sunset

I am lucky to live a few miles from what must be the best sunset in
the world. Today, when I drove my motorcycle up to Grizzly Peak in the
hills above Berkeley, I could not help feel blessed as I saw the sun
slowly come down over the Marin hills caressing everything into the
gentle night.


I ride up to Grizzly Peak as often as I can – it is now an integral
part of my psyche. From up there you can see all five bridges that
cross various points of San Francisco Bay, and you get this incredible
view of the Golden Gate bridge standing calmly next to the city
spires. Later in the year the sun will move so as to set right over
the Golden Gate, and from my vantage point, with Alcatraz right in
front of the bridge, it is a triple delight. And some days, the fog
mixes with the sun and bathes the bay with a golden halo – it is very
impressive, not just for its powerful expanse, but also for its
infinite variety. No matter how many times I go up there, it is always
different.


Today there must have been at least 40 sports motorcycles up there –
gorgeous feline machines, and their crude and rough riders, the
drug-filled air and foul-mouthed tones casting a pall of dissonance
over the mountain. This is the “wall” – one of the most famous meeting
places for bikers, who begin to gather two hours or more before
sunset, usually dispersing rapidly right after, especially when the
fog rolls in and it becomes bitterly cold.


But never mind – the sunset smothers all with calmness, despite the
rubber burnouts, and loud speed drives past the wall. The soothing
rays bring enervating relaxation to me, and I wander towards it,
oblivious to the testosterone and tatoos around me. Its that sunset,
the pied piper that draws me up the mountain, always there and such a
bonus, as it comes as a perfect end to any sort of day.


And it will always be there, my friend, and I hope I will be there for
it too, as long as I live.

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