Day 1--Sonoma to San Rafael to San Francisco

Starting the Adventure from Sonoma

Had a successful day today--58 miles, three missions, cycled among the Redwoods, crossed the Golden GateI Bridge.  It was a cool 52 degrees this morning when I cast anchor from Mission San Francisco de Soledad in Sonoma at about 8:15 AM. It didn’t take long for the coastal clouds to burn off and the temperature “soar” into the low to mid 60s. I have been doing most of my riding in Phoenix, with temperatures ranging from the low 90s to the mid-100s. So the cold was a bit of a shocker to this Arizona boy’s body. But within a few miles I was creating my own heat, as I made my way through the vineyards of the Sonoma Valley.

Riding along side the vineyards in Sonoma Valley



Cycling through the
redwoods near San Rafael

 Picturesque is an understatement. The morning sun, the cool air and a bit of moisture in the air made me feel the scene as well as view it. Low lying mountains line either side of the valley. There was little traffic early on this Saturday morning, so I moved into a space of calm serenity as I pedaled away the miles.
My stillness-in-motion ended as I got close to Highway 101 and the town of Novato. Just before I turned off to begin 2-plus days of truly urban cycling through the San Francisco Bay area, there was a tall bridge with a steep incline spanning the slough and a creek running into the north bay. The shoulder I was riding on completely disappeared, and the traffic was moving to the speed limit of 65 miles per hour. Fortunately, the bridge possessed two lanes each way, and most drivers were very respectful of my “space.” A few it seemed wanted to “reach out and touch someone” (that “someone” being me!). I had visions of serious injury or death, but I survived the bridge. Just on the eastern edge of Novato near the marshes, a gang of vultures were staring at me from the side of the road. I think they were hoping I would meet my demise so they could enjoy some breakfast, but alas, they’d have to find their vittles someplace else!



The rebuilt mission is on
the right side of the picture,
with the newer church
building in the background.

 My route took me through downtown Novato where some fair-like event was taking place, with beer tents, live music and all. Marin County, the home of the sport of mountain biking, also has a nice system of marked bike lanes, routes and special bike paths--some of them numbered just like highways (but with smaller signs). I found my way to Mission San Rafael Arcangel.  Carolyn had already scouted out the restaurants, so we ate before we toured the mission.

The last mission founded under Spanish rule, San Rafael began as an asistencia (sub-mission) of San Francisco.  Evidently the Mexican men could not keep their hands of the native women, and many of the Miwok Indians were becoming very ill, presumably due to syphillis.  San Rafael was established in 1817, in the drier and warmer climate of the north San Francisco Bay, as a hospital and sanitarium.  The idea was to move the sick Indians from Mission San Francisco de Asis (also know as Mission Dolores) in San Francisco, so they could be treated and recover.  In 1822, due to the conversion of resident natives in the area, San Rafael was accorded full mission status.  The buildings at San Rafael were less ornate than the others, and had no towers or belfry.  The bells were hung on cross beams in front of the chapel.

Bells on crossbeam at San Rafael.

It was also the first mission to be "secularized," meaning that the Mexican government took the vast lands, ranches and buildings and "distributed" them to private citizens.  San Rafael was severely plundered.  There was an incident a few years later involving Captain John C. Fremont (for whom the Bay area city is names) and Kit Carson, who shot two unarmed Mexicans at point blank range (they were seeking provisions) at the behest of Fremont, while the U.S. troops used the mission for baracks and stables.  A checkered history, to say the least.  The mission had fallen into ruins, but in 1949 the Hearst Foundation built a replica of the original missions, which stands today.

A mass of humantiy from
all over the globe walks,
skateboards, runs and
cycles across the Bridge.

 After spending some time at the mission, I headed south for San Francisco.  "D Street" turned into "Wolfe Grade."  I'd give the wolf an F, as this long, grueling hill was WAY too steep!  But coming down the hill was a scream!  Unfortunately, my nice lamenated "cheat sheet" direction card blew out of my back pocket on the descent.  I was now on my own, without any instructions.  If found four fit college-age cyclists who looked like they knew where they were going, and asked to tag along.  They escorted me safely to Sausalito, from which I had to climb MORE hills (as I found out I'd be doing for the next three days) to get to the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge.
Now, call me a romantic fool, but I had these visions of coasting over the Golden Gate, wind blowing in my face, enjoying the view of San Francisco to my right and the Pacific Ocean to my left.  NOTHING could be further from my experience.  Hundreds, maybe thousands, of people were crossing the Bridge for "the experience."  What I found myself doing was fighting for my life!  Other cyclists were trying to run me over, people were standing in the middle of the walkway chatting, taking pictures, parking strollers.  One hundred percent of my concentration had to be on not running anyone over and not being bounced off into the Bay myself!  Kind of ruined the vision.  But I did survive to see the other side.


Arrival at Mission Dolores.

 But once I got over there (mind you, without directions), I was totally befuddled.  I took off to my right, following a group of cyclists (trying to repeat my good fortune from earlier), and found myself not on by the San Francisco Bay, but somewhere overlooking the Pacific.  Street names did not look familiar.  I was hopelessly lost.  So I relied on my internal compass, and ended up somewhere in China Town.  A Chinese-American police officer was kind enough to offer me "the best route to Fisherman's Wharf through Chinatown!"  To make a long story short, I finally (who knows how!) made it to Mission San Franciso de Asis/Mission Dolores.  But not until I tried tackling the steepest hills on the penninsula.  My heart rate was up to 160 on several of them (by the way, that's pretty good for an old guy!).  Carolyn, once again, was waiting patiently (or maybe not) for me.  I was almost an hour late.  And the neighborhood around the Mission is, shall we say, less than upscale.  But it was from this outpost that the now thriving metropolis of San Francisco was born.


Carolyn and "the bike" in front of Mission
San Francisco de Asis/Mission Dolores.

It was Captain Juan Bautista de Anza (mentioned in my first post) who arrived in San Francisco early in 1776.  One of Spain's major military and politcal objectives was to settle the San Francisco Bay, cutting of the Russians from the north, and the English by sea.  However, one of the Spanish administrators was purported saying that Spain ought to give California to Russians as punishment for their evil intentions.  (I guess he really didn't like California all that much!)  In October of the same year, the famous Father Junipero Serra founded the mission, the sixth in California.  The name "Dolores" came about because the mission was built on what was then a long dried up creekbed, Arroyo de los Dolores.  British explorer Captain George Vancouver visited this mission on one of his expeditions.

Cemetary at Mission San Francisco


On a technical note, we aren't actually visiting "the missions."  In their day, the California missions owned very large spreads of land which were successfully farmed and ranched by the Indian devotees.  What remains are churches (or replicas), courtyards, and in some cases quarters.  It's difficult for us to imagine the expanse and importance of these mission enterprises to the settlement of California.
One of the most fascinating aspects of the mission for me was the historic cemetary at this mission.  I really felt a keen sense of "history" in this place, thinking about those Spaniards, Indians and settler buried there.  Also, at both these mission sites there were services being conducted--a christening at San Rafael and a wedding in San Francsico.  Over 250 years later these churches are still vibrant, meaningful fixtures in the lives of many people.

San Francisco de Solano (Sonoma) to San Rafael:  33 miles
San Rafael to San Francisco de Asis:  25 miles
Day Total:  58 miles
Trip Total:  58 miles