Night had fallen by the time our van began crossing the 4.35 miles of the San Francisco Bay Bridge. The traffic was fast and crowded. The whole time across I kept thinking “Please, God, not another blowout”. Kevin had manfully maneuvered the van off the road each harrowing time we had gotten a blowout. With these conditions, it would certainly have been disastrous.
The city was lit up, though, and it looked spectacular, electric and inviting. Kevin got the van to the other side without incident except that a) we were on E and b) we had no idea how to get to Chuck and Jan’s place. We took the first exit we could off the bridge and wound up somewhere in the Mission District.
The Mission is fine but if it’s your first time there and it’s dark outside and you’re lost, it can seem pretty intimidating. But we managed to find a gas station and a phone booth. Soon Jan was giving us directions to their apartment on Walter Street off of Duboce Park.
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I know what you mean about coming across the Bay Bridge at night. My first handful of times crossing it into then-unknown territory were exhilarating...the lights of the city by the water glowing in the darkness and the hulking frame of the bridge all around, five lanes of traffic racing straight ahead. Even now it's a lovely sight and one of the experiences I associate most with living here.
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