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Get off My Bridge!

It was 1990. I was living in Mill Valley, riding a motorcycle and doing contract graphic arts for a big time consulting firm located on the 40th floor of one of the Embarcadero Centers. In fact, just the year before, I happened to be exiting that 40th floor men's room , enroute to my local, the John Barleycorn, to grab a barstool and enjoy the World Series, when the Loma Prieta earthquake hit in full 7.1 shaka shaka shaka. That men's room was moving 15 feet in each direction. I was thankful that it didn't hit 5 minutes earlier.

 The way this firm worked was the consultants would spend the morning interviewing clients, then spend the afternoon preparing their presentation and finally handing it over to us graphic artists to prepare the artwork and presentation slides, all way before PowerPoint made it oh so easy.

 I would show up around 5 or 6pm and we would sometimes spend all night in preparing the artwork so the consultants could present back to the client in the morning.

 I'd ride my Kawasaki in and find convenient alley parking. It was almost always a beautiful ride into San Francisco. The ride home was a different matter. I never took the 101 Freeway route home as the high winds over the Waldo Grade could easily sweep me off the road and over the cliff. I always took the side route down through Sausalito and then reconnect for the Route 1, Mill Valley exit and home.
If I was passing thru Sausalito before closing time, I would make a very quick stop at the "No Name" bar for an Irish Coffee to warm my soul after having just crossed the Golden Gate Bridge with all its biting wind chill and ferocious cross currents. I had it all figured out that I could enjoy one IC there (just to sober up, as Ed O'Leary would always exclaim), bundle back up, make the short ride to Mill Valley and be safely home before the alcohol hit my blood stream.
One night had been a particularly long night at work and it was probably around 4am when I was crossing the bridge from the Presidio to Sausalito, and I noticed it. Now, please remember that this was during the years before the solid crash barrier was in place and all that separated northbound and southbound traffic was only the hint of a traffic cone, stabbed meticulously into their own little holes by bored and sleepy bridge workers with the precision of a gymnast nailing her dismount. The normal late night configuration was 2 lanes northbound, 2 lanes as a buffer, and 2 lanes southbound, again, all separated by the tiniest of yellow cones.

As I was approaching mid span, I noticed it again and started to slow. It became even more obvious and, just before I came to a full stop, I gently moved to the absolute middle of the roadway, inside the buffer lanes, right at center span of the world famous Golden Gate Bridge.

 What had caught my eye was the complete lack of headlights approaching me in either direction. I was the only vehicle on the bridge and, not counting any bridge trolls that may have been lurking, I was also the only living thing on this great and mighty structure.

 I waited. I put the motorcycle in neutral.

I waited. I put the kickstand down and stepped off the bike.

 I waited. I raised my face shield, smelled the smell of the sweet ocean, enjoyed the whisp of fog that curled up from under the bridge, like ghostly fingers and then walked around the bike, determined to stay as long as it took for another vehicle to appear.

 I waited and wished I had cigarettes because, man, oh man, what a time and place for a smoke.

 I waited, and I hate to admit it, but I did what any male of his species does to denote ownership of anything. I marked my territory with a warm stream.

 Upon completion of that task, I did notice headlights approaching down from the Rainbow, now Robin Williams', tunnels. I zipped, bundled back up warmly, remounted my steed, engaged the gears and smiled all the way home to Mill Valley.

So for those few fleeting moments in 1990, I owned the Golden Gate bridge. I have a "GoFundMe" account set up for all your delinquent tolls and if you can't bring yourself to make it all current, well.....

Stay off My Bridge!!

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