“A father is a man  
who expects his son  
to be as good a man  
as he meant to be.” 
Frank A. Clark

I spent another day in San Francisco today — another walking day. The difference between today’s walk and my City walk last Monday is that my youngest son, Brendan, joined me for the excursion. Other than that, it was a carbon copy of last week’s trek.

We parked the car at 45th and Sloat, split a bowl of oatmeal with dried cranberries at Java Beach Café on Sloat, then headed north two miles along Sunset Dunes to Java Beach Café on Judah. There we split a bacon burrito. Fully satisfied, we were ready for a day of walking.

As I mentioned, the walk was pretty much the same as the walk I took last week. We walked from the west end of Golden Gate Park to the east end at Stanyan Street. Along the way, we stopped at a number of small lakes, the Polo Fields, the San Francisco Mounted Police stables, then to see the bison enclosure. 

From there we stopped at Spreckles Lake, the San Francisco Tennis Center, and Children’s Playground, where I shared memories of my childhood with Brendan. It was a short walk from there to Stanyan Street.

We stopped for a drink at Flywheel Coffee Roasters, which is located in a retail space which was once the home of the Stanyan Street Cyclery. It was there, in June 1970, that I purchased my Raleigh Grand Prix 10-speed bicycle — the same bike I have in my garage today.

The stop at the coffee shop was a nice respite before venturing into the Haight-Ashbury neighborhood. We stopped at the childhood home of my mother on Oak Street, and just around the corner on Masonic Avenue, my maternal grandparents home during my early childhood. They lived directly across the street from St. Agnes Church.

A walk down Haight Street is always an experience, and today was no different. Buildings painted with bright psychedelic colors and designs line both sides of the street. Some look a bit worn, while others seem to have been painted in recent years. A variety of shops, most of which are of little interest to me, draw crowds of locals and tourists. Finally, we made our way back to Stanyan Street.

After brief stops at Kezar Pavilion, home of some epic high school basketball games through the years, and Kezar Stadium, the former home field of the San Francisco 49ers before their move to Candlestick Park, we returned to Golden Gate Park for the walk back to the beach.

By the time we returned to our car at 45th and Sloat, we had logged 40,000 steps (again)! That converts to about 20 miles. It was a great day for both of us. When we returned home, we went directly to the jacuzzi to begin the process of healing our aching muscles. I’m confident that we will both sleep well tonight.