A Day of Windy Spirits
A day, a day that started like any other. Nothing to it really, waking up in the morning and getting out of bed at some moderately-early hour of the morn. Then off, off to a place of known locality, to join with two fine friends for a day of largess and fine company. Such days as memorable as this do not come often in the daily grind of life that we all inhabit, and as such should be remembered in as much vivid detail as possible.
The water was clear, and a breeze ever so slight brushed away the clean canvas that had been the San Francisco Bay earlier that morning. Vessels with sails dotted the bay, a mishmash of large and small yards of canvass taking hold of the wind, gliding forward with nothing to hold them back. The sun shown down on the bay, though it was not oppressive. Light clouds covered the sky far above, but they did not impede the view. A light mist slightly obfuscated the city of San Francisco in the distance, but it was not thick. One word can describe the day that was this day on the San Francisco Bay, perfect.
The wine wasn’t bad either, in fact it was quite good as myself and several close friends wined and lunched at the Corinthian yacht club in Tiburon, California. Under the California sun we sat and drank wine from New Zealand, a sauv blanc to be precise with a nice bouquet and a tantalizing crisp taste of grapefruit with a hint of oak on the palate. A refreshing beginning to the afternoon, as one like it had not happened for some time. After the wine came the meal, which included several hamburgers, with fries and a syrah to drink. Viva la comida de los Estados Unidos! I have found that many times, and on this day it was reconfirmed that nothing beats excellent company, fine wine and a well-prepared hamburger. There we all sat, ate, became mildly intoxicated while discussing the important events that dominate the news. We sat for some time, drinking in the sights and the sounds. The smell of the sea air is certainly quite intoxicating in its own way, and brings the individual face-to-face with the great deeps that are Neptunes’ kingdom. It was a luckily day for us in another way, as we were blessed to have live entertainment taking place right before us on the ocean waves in the form of several boat races. As I try not to allow previous experiences with sea-going vessels influence my opinion of the sea, I will say that from where I was sitting, on dry land, that it looked to be quite fun.
Retreating from the yacht club in a slightly drunken stupor we soon stopped again for more of that precious ambrosia known as wine at a local wine store. Several wines were tasted in quick succession, and a bottle of champagne purchased to be drunk later in the afternoon. The wine at this store was of a lesser quality than the wine we had all drank overlooking the bay, though it was still quite drinkable and agreed with those who were in no condition to drive due to their consumption.
After the two stops, the time was near to 2 in the afternoon. Thus, we headed for yet another destination. Mount Burdell is certainly not very tall as far as mountains go, though it is still a good hike. Rising upwards of 1500 feet above the level of the sea it is a fine place to view the many regions of the San Francisco Bay Area. Up we went, towards the top of this fine mountain. A fire road our trail, cow dung on the road our guide. Green hills of oak and bay trees surrounding us on either side, and a luscious wind blowing kindly from behind to push us forward. Much of the northern bay area, known as Marin County at one point in time used to be graze land for cattle, many of which look as though they have been forgotten by time. Gone are the automobiles, motorcycles and other major reminders of humanity. All one can see for miles are fences, cows, the occasional barn and other hikers/walkers. It is a fine place to be, and the trail quite thankfully was not steep as those who had been drinking would not have made it were it a serious climb.
Up and up we hiked, to a point in the saddle between the mountain and another hill where we had a good view of the city of Novato below us. Breaking out the champagne and several flutes we popped the bottle and proceeded to toast the good fortune of being alive, and having the means to buy champagne. The view from where we stood and sat was spectacular all around. The hills of rich British-racing green behind, and a testament to the accomplishments of humanity ahead. The wind blew strong here, and it helped to awaken dull and tired souls to the joy of sight and that of life. It also opened up my allergies and set them, like the wildflowers surrounding us, into full bloom. After several more toasts and one considerably long phone conversation we (mainly I) polished off the bottle of bubbly and headed down the mountain, back into the suburbs of civilization.
In the city of Novato we stayed for a short while, before all of us piled into a minivan and headed to the small town of Strawberry, where a Thai dinner awaited us. Thai Ice Teas to start, then numerous dishes of duck and chicken to follow. Despite the small wait staff, we had our food in good order and gorged ourselves on the meal that had been set before us. The food was very nice, and the duck was spicy and delicious, though it filled us all up and there was no hope of ordering anymore. Another day perhaps more duck shall be ordered, but it was not today. By this point, and at several points before this our numbers had been three. The three of us sat there in the restaurant, relaxing on cushions set upon a hard wooden bench. One journeyed to the bathroom to avoid paying the bill, typical, and took far too long. Strange, but whatever works. The bill was paid, and we were on our way back to our respective homes. The day had been a grand one, a delectable lunch with great friends, drinking champagne on a hillside in the afternoon and a Thai dinner to cap it all off.
Now when can we do it again?
-E.M.