Muir Woods

Overheated Doublemint, the smell radiating from the glove compartment, permeating every inch of the car’s sun-boiled  interior.  That’s what I remember most from my last trip to Muir Woods.   Well, there’s also some vague visions of giant trees floating somewhere in the file cabinet of past experiences that is my head. 

There was no gum in the glove compartment this trip. There’s hardly room for any in there with all the maps I need to get around the Bay Area.  I guess that left more room in my memory for trees this time around.

The Great Ecclestone’s parental units were in town for vacation and I was greatly delighted to see them, despite the lack of a performance by The Great Ecclestone. [Here’s a picture of me and the Great Ecclestone when we all went to some of his shows in Texas.]  They wanted to see the woods, which are a bit difficult to reach from SF if you don’t have a car, and Betty and I were free.  Perfect!

We drove over the Golden Gate bridge and took the park’s shuttle from Sausalito.  The way up was delightful and the view resembled that of my Uncle’s porch, the inside of a milk bottle.  Thanks Karl.

Already dressed in San Francisco-appropriate layers, we wandered through the woods admiring the towering trees and chuckling at the tourists in shorts and freshly purchased Muir Woods sweatshirts.  The Weather Channel website predicted high 60s by early afternoon, but with the cold wind from the sea and the sun blocked by a canopy of branches, it hardly felt more than 50.

Taking our fill of the paved paths and plenty of pictures, we wandered through the gift shop and back to the shuttle.  I was thinking it would be fabulous to do lunch at my favorite restaurant, Avatar’s, since it’s right in Sausalito.  But, then came the bus ride.

Karl had moved on and with this vision impairment removed, the bus driver delighted in cajoling down the winding hills, catapulting the bus up steep inclines and whipping around tight curves.  We reached Sausalito safely, but my stomach was still trying to catch up from the 101-1 split.  There was no way I was eating anything.

So we headed back to the City, to the bustling sidewalks of Fisherman’s Wharf.  With stomachs built of stronger constitutions, my friends went off to lunch and I went home to nap.