Ticket to Ride

After registering for Tom's meeting at the Moscone Center, we bought a 7-day Muni pass and caught a bus to Fisherman's Wharf. It was a beautiful day to reacquaint ourselves with the beauty and historic charms of San Francisco. As we road the bus from downtown to the Wharf, we took note of the skyline, the hills, architecture, and ultimately San Francisco Bay.


This particular bus ride became more of a matinee than we could have ever predicted. The bus was relatively crowded, particularly for a Sunday afternoon, but we both had seats until we came to one of many stops. After several blocks, an elderly black man with a walker boarded, so Tom quickly gave up his seat for the mumbling old guy.


We then proceeded up one of San Francisco's infamous hills to another stop. "Wheelchair coming on board!" the bus driver loudly reported. "Wheelchair coming on board!" he emphasized.


This stop required a bit of fanfare as we waited for the bus ramp to lift a black woman pushing a wheelchair to board. The hoopla continued, because multiple "reserved for the elderly/disabled" seats had to be vacated to accommodate the Wheelchair Pusher.


Before she sat down, we all noticed cigarette smoke wafting up from her well-packed wheelchair. A rough-looking sleeping guy awoke to the sights and smells and exclaimed, "You can't smoke on this bus! There's no smokin' on buses!"



The Wheelchair Pusher defended herself and declared, "I done thought I put it out - it must be in here somewhere." A nearby young woman stepped in, rummaged through the passenger's belongings until she found the smoking cigarette and extinguished it.


Meanwhile, the chastising continued at ever-increasing decibels. The Sleeper, who was still annoyed for being disturbed, resumed yelling at the black woman, "You're taking up FIVE seats!" And indeed she was.


People in the back of the bus - who couldn't really see what was going on - defended the"disabled" woman, saying, "Give her a break, man - she's in a wheelchair."

Banter continued between the Sleeper and pretty much everyone else. After he'd had enough, he pulled the "Stop Requested" cord and exited at the next stop.

After the Sleeper left, the elderly man with the walker settled it once and for all. He squarely looked at the Wheelchair Pusher and summed everything up by saying, "You ain't in a wheelchair. You's PUSHIN' a wheelchair."

Things were relatively quiet for a few more blocks until the driver announced, "Wheelchair coming on board! Wheelchair coming on board!" Once again, we passengers toward the front of the bus rearranged ourselves to make room for a tiny Oriental woman who was dressed to the nines.


At this point, the elderly black man with a walker reported to the entire bus - in his loudest voice yet - "REAL wheelchair comin' on board. REAL wheelchair comin' on board."

She said not a word as she was lifted onto the bus and steered to an open spot by her picture-worthy son.


We eventually made our way to the Wharf and Ghiradelli Square, but we agreed the bus ride was definitely worth the price of admission.

I Took My Heart to San Francisco

Thanks to the 97th Annual Clinical Congress of the American College of Surgeons, I packed my bag and tagged along with Tom to San Francisco. We landed in Oakland and immediately caught an airport bus that connected us to BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit). BART zipped us to San Francisco's Civic Center and to an easy 4-block walk to an apartment we rented through VRBO (Vacation Rentals By Owner).


Our cute studio apartment was cleverly converted from a warehouse, and we found it to be charming, convenient and close to public transportation. We quickly dumped our bags there and hit the San Francisco ground running.

For the Glory!

Port Townsend residents and visitors can count on a potpourri of annual festivities throughout the summer and fall months, including the Wooden Boat Show and the Port Townsend Film Festival. But the season culminates on a particularly raucous note with the "Great Port Townsend Bay Kinetic Skulpture Race."


Now in its 29th year, the festival is a weekend-long series of events, celebrating the ingenuity and whimsy of mankind.


A kinetic sculpture is a human-powered, artistically enhanced vehicle that must travel through sand and mud, stay afloat on water, and conquer hilly, silly neighborhoods.


The whole shootin' match begins at low noon with a parade down Water Street.


No one is immune from the watchful eyes of roaming Kinetic Kops who randomly issue tickets to spectators failing to get with the program. If you aren't in costume or if you aren't moving sufficiently to the beat of the jazzy parade percussion, you just might find yourself with a deduction of points.


Clearly this is not to be taken lightly as shame shrouds anyone getting caught for breaking the kinetic law (as seen below).


However, Kinetic Kops may also choose to award Glory Points to spectators who happen to suit their fancy, as was the case with this particular Husky fan.











The parade lines up at the US Bank building parking lot where competitors and spirited participants receive instructions from the Kinetic Commissioner.



An award is given to each racer whether they want it or not, but the most highly coveted prize is the "Mediocrity Award" which goes to the sculpture that finishes in the middle of the pack.


Entrants must pass a brake test and an elaborate safety inspection. At this stage, the Kinetic Commissioner verifies that each rig is equipped with key essentials, like a spare tire, whistle, life preserver, and a teddy bear. It is interesting to note that pit crews must be human, and the rules clearly point out that, if necessary, DNA tests may be required.


Bribing the field of judges not only helps but is highly encouraged. It is clearly pointed out that cheating is not a right, but a privilege. After all, it's for the glory!


We weren't able to attend the Saturday Night Koronation Kostume Ball to witness the coronation of the 2011 Rose Hip Kween, but it was positively thrilling to meet true royalty - the oldest living Rose Hip Queen!



Washington's Governor Christine Gregoire was also in town for the festivities. Apparently she didn't earn any Glory Points from the Kinetic Kops either.

Cheese, Louise

It felt like we were back in New Zealand during a visit to Whiskey Hill Diary just outside of Port Townsend. Diana Dyer officially opened her one-woman operation in 2008 after several years of making cheese for family and friends. With a herd of purebred registered does, Dyer claims her goats are truly "career girls" that work hard on her farm. If the critters aren't producing milk, they're producing kids for sale to other dairies or for show stock.


We drove into Whiskey Hill Farm amidst the sights and sounds of talkative goats and wandering chickens. Our objective was simply to buy goat cheese, but it wasn't clear how to go about making a purchase. We wandered around the outbuildings a bit until we stumbled upon Dyer in the midst of milking to of her does. Claiming she was on vacation, she said, "If you want cheese, help yourself - the refrigerator is outside."



Sure enough, we found a small fridge just outside the milking area. Buyers are simply instructed to choose their cheese (or eggs) and leave cash in the tupperware on the door. $15 later, we acquired some "Houston Blue" and "Greek Feta."


Before leaving the farm, I had to make acquaintance with the career girls along with the equally friendly pygmy goats. We subsequently learned that we could have purchased Whiskey Hill Farm cheese at a number of area Co-ops, grocery stores, or creameries, but this was far more entertaining.

A Maritime Center

Along with its Victorian influence and stunning natural scenery, Port Townsend is well-known as a maritime center for independent boat-builders and related industries and crafts. Much of the daily life around here is influenced by water.

Whether it's transportation


Whether it's boat-building


Whether it's fishing


Whether it's recreation




















or Whether it's Weather

Side Trip to a Cidery

We discovered a small sign advertising Alpenfire Cider just a mile or so from our cottage. We happily took a side trip down Pocket Lane to learn about and sample Washington's only organic hard cider.

Formerly called "Wildfire Cider," this family-run operation re-named itself after catching fire for using the same name as a Chicago-based restaurant chain. The smoke cleared from what must have been a difficult legal battle about a year ago, so Bear and Nancy Bishop embraced a new name and can now devote their full attention to growing apples and making hard cider.

About 10 years ago the couple visited Europe where they learned that maritime environments (like that of Port Townsend) grow the best tasting apples for cider. After placing an order for 900 French and English cider variety trees, they cleared and prepared their land for planting an orchard. The entire operation is certified organic.

The Bishops use state-of-the-art equipment and handcrafted Oregon oak barrels to chop, press and age their multiple lines of very dry cider. More recently the couple began producing an excellent apple cider vinegar which we purchased, along with a bottle of their semi-sweet, barrel-aged, unpasteurized, unfiltered, sulfite/sorbate/gluten-free Alpenfire Spark cider.

Farmers Market: Port Townsend-Style

After unpacking my bags, the next order of business was to scope out the time and location of Port Townsend's Farmers Market. I was delighted to learn that Port Townsend holds Wednesday and Saturday markets, so I immediately inked both events on my calendar.


I approached the Wednesday market from downtown, passing Haller Fountain before climbing the Terrace Steps which connects the upper and lower parts of the town.


Port Townsend was officially settled in 1851 and over time became noted for its vast collection of Victorian homes. At the top of Terrace Steps, I found myself in the neighborhood of these beautiful homes. I passed by the Bell Tower, built in 1890 and historically used for fire calls.


The Wednesday Market is small and takes over one block in Uptown Port Townsend. A handful of vendors were on hand to sell their produce - predominantly organic and beautifully displayed.


Later in the week, Tom joined me for the Saturday Farmers Market - a much larger affair, complete with flowers, upscale arts and crafts, and Kingston Trio-type entertainment.