Out and Back to SFO

At the completion of my simulator training in Atlanta, I wanted to go somewhere that was close, easy, and free. San Francisco is far enough away to make flying for an hour much more advantageous over sitting in traffic for 6 hours one way. I had not been there since the infamous San Francisco marathon of 2009, when my father believed that the course would not have many hills. As I limped by AT&T park in pain to collapse at the finish line, I contemplated the truth to his statement.

Compared to LA, San Francisco is much more densely populated and significantly more expensive. So, if we could help it, we were trying to go to SFO in the morning and be back in LAX by the end of the day. Even airport hotels (with my airline discount) were running around $160.

Upon arrival, we took the BART to the embarcadero. We had no specific destination in mind. We simply walked by the piers and watched the sea lions throw their fat bodies at each other for a bit before making our way inland.
It was at this point, that Nicole, now at a 45 degree angle to the street below her, suggested that we have a destination instead of climbing up a street that probably required sherpas. I have always had an unexplained ability to find my way around San Francisco. I assured Nicole that it would only be two more blocks. (Granted there was a 1000 ft gain in elevation over this time period, but I was technically correct). After watching a battle between incompetent traffic cops and incompetent tourists take place at Lombard Street, we summoned an Uber to take us to Golden Gate park.

There, we rested our legs for a bit and just looked at the flowers and observed the local San Franciscans do San Franciscan things. Energized again, we began a walk to Alamo square to look at the row homes featured in numerous tv and movies. From there we called another Uber to drop us off at a hotel in the financial district. I recall when I was just 17, my dad and I went to the top of one of the downtown hotels for a sprite and looked out over the Trans-America building. I miraculously found the same hotel six years ago after the marathon. I attempted the same feat on this trip. We walked into the hotel, took the elevator to the top floor, and well . . . almost. There was a bar, but not the one I remember. We slowly drank a couple beers while we charged our phones and took in the view. I listed for our return flight while enjoying the view you see here. Despite narrowly getting on the flight to LAX, we even got seats next to each other. Not bad for a day trip to San Francisco.