Walking Around SF, Snowboarding in Tahoe, Mare Island and More
Much needed rain fell in early February, though not enough to affect the worst drought in California history.
Two wet weekends ago, J and I rented a car to explore Pt. Richmond. The quaint town is surrounded by water, oil and industry. The houses on the hill have wonderful views of San Francisco and the bay, and the downtown area has a classy public swimming building. Train tracks run everywhere.
To the south, weird suburban homes are built off of jetty roads in Brickyard Cove, and a sprawling apartment complex clings to the hillside. Nearby, a massive lot of new Subarus was waiting to be loaded onto trains.
J and I boarded the Red Oak Victory and wandered around. The WWII era cargo ship was empty, and only after 15 minutes of exploring did the caretaker come out to tell us why. Due to the weather and insurance reasons, the boat was closed for the day.
Richmond Ramblers HQ.
We are running out of Subarus!
Depth marks.
One of SF’s lesser-known islands.
Aboard the SS Red Oak Victory.
Lifeboat overlooking the East Bay.
An amazing old warehouse.
Train tunnel from Pt. Richmond center.
Moss garden.
A well worn latch.
A Hitchcockian situation behind the grocery store.
Crazy house along a canal.
While J worked at work, I worked at home. Working at home involves domestic work too: shopping for groceries, laundry, cooking, Counter-strike, and crashing a small quad copter around the apartment.
Laundry is done.
A snack lunch.
Our new, douchebag-grade coffee maker pumps out piping-hot, thermally sealed goodness.
The rain started to give me cabin fever, so on a sunny day I went on a multi-hour photo walk from the apartment to Chinatown.
A pretty sign for an ugly part of town.
A weird little alley street near Geary and Lyon.
Strolling by the projects.
Old glory.
In San Francisco, the center Russians you!
Tennis ball trap.
Fake owl.
Mural replacement and old man.
The butt hole of Japan Center.
Kabuki Hotel.
Windows.
A darkness descends on a Victorian.
A multi-story tall dust curtain.
Demolition.
Another view.
Entering the Tenderloin.
I prefer Flint-Stone Body Shop.
I’m getting seduced again.
But do the drapes match?
A soon to be relocated fountain.
Dusty pink walls and daytime lamp.
Tailing the woman in red.
Apple offering.
Copper plaque.
Taro.
Colorful scene.
A mess of green beans.
The gates to the barber shop.
Falun Gong kiosk.
The woman of WOOD BVILDING.
Trilingual.
Chinatown is the most visually rich and colorful part of town, and it’s never boring to walk through. Stockton is especially fun when people are crowding the markets as fresh produce gets delivered.
Last weekend, we spent two nights in Tahoe. J went skiing while I snowboarded. It had been six year since I last snowboarded, but I managed to not fall until trying to get fancy with switchbacks. People on the green slopes called me the next Sage Cattabriga Alosa, except horrible and on a snowboard.
Norway House.
A green slope.
J.
Now this is a creek!
Old, weathered beaver.
Mountain man.
Nest.
The capitol.
Inside the dome.
Bearricade.
On the drive back, we detoured to Mare Island and were surprised to find the remains of a naval shipyard. There was no fencing to keep people out of all of the abandoned buildings, though plentiful red stencils made it clear that it was illegal to be anywhere but the streets.
A bombed-out looking building.
Empty restaurant.
EPS.
Old barracks.
On Sunday, we went to find our favorite Vietnamese sandwich and walk along Baker Beach.
The best bánh mì in town.
A plotting raven.
Standing on the precipice of moistness.
Moistness detail.
The crumbling backyard steps of a Sea Cliff mansion.
No access.
February is almost over, and in a matter of days I’ll be flying to Malaysia/Indonesia for hopefully some exciting photographic scenery.