So tweed ride was pretty much brilliant as far as left-of-center SF events go.
The route: Union Square to Market Street to the Embarcadero to an Aquatic Park pier to a bar in North Beach, then through Chinatown on our own to get back to Union Square.
I will let a few pictures do most of the talking and hand out a few superlatives.
Scariest moment: the first 30 seconds of the ride when we turned onto Powell Street and I nearly ate concrete as my front tire got stuck on the cable car track. Incidentally, this was exactly 30 seconds after the tweed leader announced on his megaphone to steer clear of the cable car tracks.
Most magical moment: As day turned into night, ending up on a pier sandwiched between Aquatic Park and Alcatraz, listening (with a singalong) to the band Corpus Callosum play their tambourines, drums, xylophone, and ukulele.
Worst drink of the night: A little hot chocolate with a lot of brandy is gross, y'all.
What I was most grateful for (or, Why my husband is smarter than me): 1) Steve talked me out of wearing my cute open-toed wedges and into wearing my much warmer ankle boots with tights. Because San Francisco is perpetually cold, 'specially if you're on a bike. and 2) Steve would not let me raise my hand to volunteer us in holding up signs at the intersection as our tweed mob crossed during a red light. Because, as he said, "We don't know what we're doing." Turns out he was right--see "scariest moment" up above.
Sexiest in tweed: as if that was ever in question. Husband made that beret look good.
The girl in the picture above made her own outfit--is that not incredible? I mean, get thyself all over a Project Runway application as soon as possible, woman. I even got my .25 seconds of fame over at The Snitch. Oh, and here too (little bike sunshine!) Cools. Love this city.
1 comment:
How very dapper. Looks like fun.
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