Wine Country

Sorry for the long blog…I just got back from a couple of days in wine country. Actually, it included Sausalito and Tiburon, which are both just across the Golden Gate Bridge on San Francisco Bay. We have talked about coming to Northern California next fall after I really retire. I’ve been on the Pennock Foundation Board for 23 or 24 years and this is my 14th year on the Pennock Hospital Board. We don’t have term limits or age restrictions and we’ve generally done a good job of policing ourselves. So it’s time for me to hand over the reins to someone else. I love what I do, and have plenty of good years left, but I’ve been there long enough and it’s time for new blood (and I mean that literally).

Jean will begin collecting Social Security in March, so she may not want/need to work so many hours at the fitness center. This winter will be a good test, I guess. Since we both retired from our full time jobs/careers, we haven’t spent all that much time together. I spent some time in Florida in the early years, but Jean stayed up in Michigan, for the most part. In the summer I’m out at the cottage a lot, and Jean isn’t. I suppose if we can spend two weeks in Florida in December, travel to Arizona between Christmas and New Years stopping in Baton Rouge, spend three weeks or so in Phoenix, go wherever (needs to be warm) from late January until March, then go to Rocky and Nina’s wedding in New Orleans without killing each other somewhere along the line, I guess we can make a deposit on something for next year.

Back to the trip across the Golden Gate Bridge. I got a Tom-Tom gps for the car before Matt and I drove out here. It’s been valuable in getting us around so far, but Matt did the navigating. So on this trip I was on my own. Lesson one…it’s best not to navigate to the “center” of the city you want to go to. My first stop was Sausalito, so I told it I wanted to go to the city center. It told me how to get from Matt and Heather’s apartment across the Golden Gate and which exit to take on Highway 101. After I got off the freeway, it told me to make a right, then another right, then another right. It led me to the on ramp to go back to San Francisco, so I guess the city center is under the overpass.

I knew better than to do that, so I turned left instead (after I backed out of the onramp) and pulled into a Presbyterian Church parking lot. I set the gps for an address, the Chamber of Commerce, and went out the driveway past the sign that said wrong way, do not enter. The police didn’t see me, so I headed for the Chamber office. I couldn’t find a parking place anywhere near it, so after driving back and forth for fifteen minutes, I put in the address for the Tiburon Chamber of Commerce. It took me back to 101 and I went a couple more exits down before I took the Tiburon exit. I was somewhat familiar with the streets since I swam the Tiburon Mile a couple of times.

It took me to the dock area where there are a series of historic buildings, Ark Row, and around to a parking lot. Apparently the gps doesn’t know me very well ‘cuz the parking lot was $2.00 for the first hour, so I backed out of the driveway and drove three blocks back to where I came from to park for free. After doing all that, I walked to the Chamber of Commerce office. It was on the lower level of Ark Row and couldn’t have been any larger than six feet by ten feet. The door was locked, the light was on, no one was there, and there wasn’t a note saying when someone would be back. I walked around the town for a half hour or so and no one showed up. 0 for 2 so far.

I programmed in the address for the Chamber of Commerce in St. Helena, and I was off. It took me through the Napa and Sonoma Valleys. Beautiful views and mile after mile of vineyards. I stopped in Napa and did a quick driving tour of the town, then got back on the highway and I was off again. I made it to St. Helena, parked on the main street of town, and walked both sides of the street. I went down to a building that looked like an old fashioned Dairy Queen and got sweet potato fries and a root beer. It was three in the afternoon, the place was packed, and that was my lunch.

I walked over to the Chamber office and went in. An older woman was behind the desk. When I told her what I was looking for she gave me a handful of brochures and magazines, told me about the new oncology unit at the local hospital, talked non-stop for 10 minutes, and told me if I would retire there, I could be the treasurer of the senior center. She was either trying to pack in as much information as she could before I ran away, or she was starved for someone to talk to. In either case, I politely told her no and was on my way. Next stop Santa Rosa.

It’s a town about the size of Kalamazoo, and I had no intention of looking around there for a place to come to next year. But it’s where Russian River Brewing Company is, and the sun was “over the yard-arm” somewhere. The drive from St. Helena was through the coastal mountains. Jean would have hated it. Going up the east side was switchbacks all the way. The speed limit was 35, but dropped to 20 several times on some tight, hairpin turns. Once to the crest, it was an 11% grade downhill, again with hairpin turns. The shoulders were non-existent, and the road dropped off at the edge a foot or more. Once into town, the gps took me right to the front door of Russian River Brewing. I was forced, forced to pay $2.00 for parking in the downtown area. I sat at the bar and the guy next to me started trying to get me to talk, but when a young, blonde, twenty-something girl came in and sat in the open seat next to him, he stopped in mid-sentence and his attention turned elsewhere. After a short stay, I was off again.

I drove to Guerneville, which is the starting point of the Vineman and Half Vineman Iron distance race. I got there after dark, and the gps took me down one of the desolate country roads to an address that was supposed to be a motel. It wasn’t, so I guess that one was my fault. Then I used the “search for hotels in your area” feature, selected which motel I wanted, and it took me right to it. The room was actually a cabin, but one of the smallest cabins I’ve ever seen. It couldn’t have been more than 10 feet by 10 feet, with a 3 foot by 8 foot bathroom. What about the other two feet you say? A 2 foot by 2 foot closet. But it was plenty big enough for me.

The proprietor of the motel recommended a place just down the road for dinner. After a Lagunitas IPA, a half pound hamburger and seasoned fries, I was ready for bed, and it was only 7:30. I sat outside under a heater with another couple and an older guy. The older guy, the waitress told me, lived alone way back in the mountains. I could tell ‘cuz he talked from the minute I got there ’til the minute I left. Luckily he was talking to the couple, so I didn’t have to pretend to be listening.

I went back to the cabin, stayed awake until 10, then zonked out. I woke up at 1:30 and stayed awake ’til 4. After checking out of the motel, I headed back for San Francisco. I stopped in Tiburon, where the Chamber office was open, and got another handfull of brochures. I tried again at Sausalito and still couldn’t find a parking spot. I stopped at Fred’s Restaurant, where I had 1 pancake and 1 piece of french toast. It doesn’t seem like much, but the french toast has ice cream in the batter and, after grilling, is deep fried. If you know anyone who has a problem gaining weight, a couple days with me will cure their problem.

I got back to the city around noon and drove around for 25 minutes trying to find a place to park. After getting frustrated, and getting low on gas, I called Matt on my cell phone (no, I wasn’t driving…I was parked in a no parking zone with my hazard lights blinking). He came down, hopped in, and we were parked within 5 minutes.

Just (I Feel Like I’m Gaining Weight By The Minute) Jack

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *