What’s Up with California Part 2: San Francisco and Crescent City

I don't like tapioca tea. This is my reaction.


After a late start due to some bus malfunctions, we arrived in San Francisco for our first encounter with public trans. Hills and hills of closely confined homes, apartments, and townhomes passed me by as I huffed and puffed on our walk uphill towards the Castro district. Moving from the Mission area part of town into the wealthier area to the gay pride area, I found myself growing comfortable in each place.

Dr. Spring briefed us on the beatnik history and its role in San Francisco as well as modern literature. My experience with the beatniks was slimmer than I would like especially after visiting City Lights Bookstore, Ve Suvio, and the Beat Museum later on in the day. The biggest lesson of this visit occurred to me over my cup of San Fran coffee; words and actions, even from me, can start a movement. I do have a voice. Feeling a little Dead Poets’ Society after this visit I must remember, “I sound my barbaric Yawp over the rooftops of the world” writes Walt Whitman. With that, what has my voice already said and done?

Further exploration brought us to Fisherman’s Wharf near the marina and in view of Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge. Much emphasis on arriving to the bus on time by Dr. Spring, led my clustered group into confusion and desperation with the transportation system. Which bus leads to what train? We were like Where’s Waldos that were not hidden but in fact, obnoxiously loud and holding up everyone else on the bus. Running to the train station across a street we might have forgotten (meaning we completely forgot) to look both ways like our mothers told us to do when we were five years old. Fortunately we made it across. A little boy near us began following us, but his parents held him back from crossing the street because they knew better. During my mad dash across (after realizing there were, in fact, several cars heading toward me with little space between u) I dropped my phone in the road. After a death scream, I realized it was in the bicycle lane and Cory picked it up for me.
When we awoke in California the next day in Crescent City near the Redwoods, I felt like we were very far from the jungles of the city. The entire clan seemed ready to get away and into the zen of nature. This was a time to be in the wilderness underneath trees that you could live amongst or at least, want to save from destruction like fairies in Fern Gully. Driving up to the trails I thought this is it. We are finally away. I can run and hide from the group and society a little.

Walking into the forest, headphones in tact, I have to admit that I was still unable to run away from society fully. Yes, I began to think of….this is hard to admit because I fully realize I am not a pre-teen and have taken college writing courses….I thought of Twilight. Twilight, I know the book/movie that has swept the nation. Yes, the movie which probably gives young girls wrong impressions of love and the opposite sex. Twilight. Even though my sanity told me to think of how lucky I am and everything else besides this, I thought of how much Crescent City looked like the town of Forks; it is green and beautifully eerie. A far cry from L.A. and San Francisco, I thought.

In coming back to my question “What’s up with California?”, its size and length divides it into vastly different sections kind of like America itself. What connects it is this. The people who travel from one end to the other are still influenced by media and movies, but need an ounce of escape from that world as well. This balance of crazy and exciting along with calm peaceful wilderness that stays your heart and mind with silence is a necessity for everyone.

No matter how far in the wilderness I go it is never far away from society.