Scenes from an Oakland Adventure

(Note: I recently returned from a trip to the Bay Area to visit Erin and Dan (my sister and brother who relocated to a land with over 250 sunny days per year) and to participate in the Oakland Running Festival's 1/2 Marathon).
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The sun is warm and the sky is clear as Erin, Dan and I walk to Arizmendi, the employee-owned bakery with addictive fresh-baked focaccia. The streets are crowded with vendors selling "hella Oakland" t-shirts and a dread-locked man crocheting hats on the spot. The strains of Happy waft over to us. When we turn, a couple is in a car is clapping along and moving in an impromptu dance party. We reach our destination after passing the Lakeshore Cafe, a popular breakfast destination with outdoor seating. In line at the bakery, Dan spots a coworker picking up a pizza to share with his wife. We get our orders to go (today's special has asparagus and basil included in the yummy-ness) and eat the treats as we walk around Lake Merritt, the Green Lake of Oakland.
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"Let's go Oakland" clap-clap-clap-clap clap-clap. "Let's go Oakland" clap-clap-clap-clap clap-clap. It's the following day and Dan, who will soon be running his first 50-miler, is supporting me in the half marathon. His support includes pacing, passing over bananas or vegan Gu packets before my energy flags, and encouragement of me and the other runners. Last year, his chanting drove me a little crazy (probably because it was mile 12 and I just wanted to be finished), but this year, I join in the clapping along with a chorus of other runners and spectators, saving my breath for the run itself. I also appreciate the cheers of encouragement from the city - especially the congregants of the local churches wearing their Sunday-best. Later on, we go through my two favorite parts of the course - the ring of fire at The Crucible and a fire breathing dragon. Though I've never taken advantage of it, it's the only running event I've participated in that gives two drink tickets to fancy beers (from 21st Amendment). Of the three courses that I've completed, this is my favoirte - the only one I've signed up for a second time.
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"Moo cow! Moo!" Jana, my sister-in-law, rolls down the car window and screams. One turns to her, a puzzled expression on its wide face as we pass. "I got a point! You get a point for each one that looks at you".

Erin tries the next batch of cattle, getting the attention of two cows and a startled bicyclist. Tired out from the morning's race and worried that the car ride (original destination Point Reyes, new destination Stinson Beach) will never end, I pass on this particular game.

"It's not a road trip if family members don't annoy each other". Earlier in the trip, Jana set the GPS to Latvian, which only she could understand. On the way to our lunch destination in Fairfax, we somehow got turned around.  "Oooh Dan - I don't know what you did, but the Latvian lady is pissed - and you don't want to make a Latvian woman mad".

To avoid her wrath, we continue in her charted direction, even as it takes us two miles in the opposite direction of her original (and correct) advice. We stop at a taco place where the one employee is moving at glacial pace and a packed German restaurant before finally choosing Grilly's Mexican Food for fish tacos (Erin notes the oddity of eating tacos in hippy Fairfax, when she lives in Fruitvale) to reverse the hangry (hungry/angry) moods.

We continue on our merry way and after the cows, finally reach Stinson Beach, a long sandy beach with foaming waves and a lone talented surfer. When I get cold, Erin buries my feet in the sand, insisting it will warm my frozen toes. We finish up with a long walk on the shore analyzing the jobs of the dogs (a favorite game of Jana's). One is a dog of leisure - a fun-loving dog- who at home obviously wears a Hugh Hefner robe and smokes a pipe.

We drive back to Oakland as night falls and hungrily fall upon the food at Chai Thai before parting ways.