Dolores Park beer and a bowl session:
What you can't hear is the sound of dirty arrhythmic hippies trying to export the "drum circle" concept to every spare square inch of urban open space.Ever wonder how hippies always manage to fuck up everything? Literally everything hippies touch turns to shit.
I spotted this while peeing in a strange new alley in the Mission. "Enjoy," indeed.
Reading "Happy Hour" by Denis Johnson at Thee Parkside whilst getting happy. Bonus points for inadvertent Olympic ring beer stains.
Found this ominously named corporation in China Basin, down by the stadium.
Check the Chihuly glass chandelier:
That wacky one-eyed glass-blowing pirate! Not pictured: perplexed corporate guard types, wondering why some biker scumbag was taking photos through their looking glass.Rustbuckets by the Ramp:
I used to fish here sometimes. You can catch stripers, perch, and probably hepatitis if you step on the right syringe.
A Minor Forest:
McCovey Cove:
The Bay Bridge is my favorite:
Giant bow and arrow:
So this is weird. I just randomly rode out this pier and stopped in front of this light--one of probably around 50 or 100 lights. And my friend Tork had a tag on it, from before he lived here, he tells me. Shitty picture, but you know, small world (of vandals).
So there's a big, sheet metal '50s rocket on the Embarcadero now. If you look closely, you can see the random huswifes doing pilates on the railing.
(Some of the) sea lions have returned to Pier 39. Who's watching whom? And who's the herd animal?
Maritime Museum is a great art deco building:
This guy's camera confused him:
Aquatic Park pier:
Not sure what this park is called. It's up on the hill above Fort Mason. Never really noticed this statue before:
WAY OUT!
This quaint family flying a kite restored my faith in humanity after I was unfortunate enough to see an old man with his foot in an old woman's lap. She was cutting his toenails with a giant clipper that looked more like a fucking tin snips. People do this stuff. In public.
SF turns basically any asshole with an iPhone into some kind of goddamned Ansel Adams. It really is the great visual equalizer:
This is a photo of Chris Schramm working on a folding bike. What an unlucky bastard! Realize, if you ride this type of freakish circus contraption, bike mechanics think you're an asshole. Really.
I found this awesome sticker on a fork protector on a boxed Specialized. It says "DO NOT remove before installation of wheel." Which, unless you're MC Escher, is impossible.
My post work smoke spot:
This is in the Presidio by the golf course. Usually foggy. It's part of my ride home trail:
This is the secret place in the Presidio where the Army plants cadavers for use in wars:
Truffula trees by Mountain Lake Park:
The old Carousel building out by the zoo. Used to be a Doggie Diner:
Typical San Francisco paranoid schizophrenic street genius shopping (c)art sign. When is someone going to curate a show of these:
They rebuilt the busted windmill in the park. Now the creeper midnight blow job spot is way more picturesque:
Hey Mickey, come on over, we're having a party:
I think this pleasant little stretch of middle-of-the-street trees is on 32nd and Fulton:
I took this shot while walking home with a flat. Had a tube, tire levers, and no pump. That's using the old bean:
Because you never know when you'll need to wash your mitts:
Man down!
Early is missing. Check the Mission near the newly reopened Palace Family Steak House, I guess:
The view from Bernal Hill. Or, as my old roommate's dad used to call it, "Dogshit Hill":
Bo dog investigates the dog grave on the backside of Bernal:
SF is always going to be my favorite. If I don't have time to put a bike on the car and go to some "destination" riding spot, I can always ride a few blocks into the park and find some fun singletrack cuts:
And double wide dirt, next to the madness of heavy machinery:
Solo. One guy, one bike, no cups--moving through the trees:
