DON'T ADD PHOTOGRAPHER TO YOUR RÉSUMÉ

SAN FRANCISCO - MAY 10, 2014

When I’m on the road, it isn’t unusual to find myself with spare time on my hands. Although I try to avoid such gaps in productivity, oftentimes it simply is unavoidable. The outcome of these type of days varies between me being really creative in finding limitless adventures to me choosing to shut it down and stay sequestered in my hotel the entire time. It all depends on how tired I am or how much work I think I can get done by staying in.

On those glorious occasions when I am driven to explore my surroundings, I am old school and like to do so on foot. No matter how daunting the size of the territory, I am wont to grab my shoes and my pack and take it all in up close and personal. If one truly wishes to experience the essence of the areas they travel, I couldn’t recommend experiencing it by immersion more.

San Francisco was an interesting choice for a walking tour. Not because of the hills or its spread out landscape. I’d already vowed to not be deterred by such obstacles. It was interesting because I have been to “The City” so often I figured what’s the point? I didn’t really see the need to bust out my size 11 Skechers and take to its fabled grid.

It’s noteworthy that I am a self-proclaimed Life Enthusiast with countless interests and even some specialties, but photography is not among them. The first photo I ever took was with my dad’s brand new Polaroid SX-70 Land Camera. Dad coached and coached me because at 7 bucks for 10 photos back in 1973 there could be little room for error. I carefully lined up my subjects and ended up with a great picture of my dad next to half my brother. It would be years before anyone stuck a camera in my hands again.

I woke up one gorgeous Saturday morning in May in the east bay suburb of Concord, California. Work will have to wait. Adventurist/Explorer would be my occupation that day. I did a bit of research and decided to head to the city via BART. The Bay Area Rapid Transit I rode picked me up at the nearby Walnut Creek station.

Let me interject right here that for this guy who grew up in the suburbs of Orange County, California, subways and trains are still a mystery and I am as giddy as a little kid whenever I take them anywhere. These novelties remain foreign to me because we never had them in Southern California where everyone owns a car and the 80’s new wave group Missing Persons wasn’t kidding when they sang “Walking in L.A., only a nobody walks in L.A.”

So where were we? That’s right, speeding down the tracks on a train heading 24 miles west from Walnut Creek to Civic Center/U.N. Plaza. I exited in a familiar area not far from City Hall and the State Supreme Court building. I just started walking. I had no particular idea where I was headed I just knew I would figure it all out once I got there.

I made it past The Fairmont San Francisco. I knew I was headed in the general direction of Fisherman’s Wharf as I climbed Mason north past the front of the hotel and approached Sacramento Avenue. That’s when I stumbled upon one of the most fascinating scenes I had ever witnessed. I watched as a perfectly prepared bride and her attentive bridesmaids were quickly ushered by a photographer to the north crosswalk at Sacramento.

They followed one other in unison, east on Mason towards what appeared to be a Wedding Planner, while the photographer quickly ran into the street to capture what I am certain is an absolutely stunning photograph. Undoubtedly, I supposed, they were taking wedding photos prior to a ceremony scheduled at the nearby, opulent 5-star hotel.

That’s when Fate tapped me on the shoulder and offered me a “Do-Over” forty years in the waiting. I successfully captured the whole event. My photo shows the crouched photographer on one side hastily taking as many photos as possible before the next flow of vehicles made their way within inches of squishing him and his Nikon. I’m so proud of that picture and have unveiled it here for the first time.

My 6-mile pedi-journey wasn’t a bad effort. It was actually quite the workout when adding hills, Lombard’s winding section and avoiding the urge to Uber, taxi or even so much as taking a quick cable car break. I had made it under my own power to several amazing places that day.

I trekked up past The Fairmont then down again on Lombard’s famously crooked segment near Columbus Avenue. I made it to Fisherman’s Wharf then continued along the shore to Pier 39 where I grabbed lunch, froze for more photo ops, and peered off in the distance to Alcatraz and thanked my lucky stars I had never been given accommodations at that type of public lodging.

I hiked back to North Beach, saw Coit Tower and the Transamerica Building, then wrapped up the day at The Embarcadero. By the time my journey ended I was ready for my ride back to Walnut Creek and as far as I was concerned BART could feel free to take the long way home.