Not Quite the End of My Trip

One of the last cars in the Lincoln Highway Association's auto tour departing the Palace of the Legion of Honor in San Francisco bound for the Lincoln Highway's 100th anniversary celebrations in Kearney, Neb. (Photo by Michael E. Grass)

One of the last cars in the Lincoln Highway Association’s auto tour departing the Palace of the Legion of Honor in San Francisco bound for the Lincoln Highway’s 100th anniversary celebrations in Kearney, Neb., on June 23, 2013. (Photo by Michael E. Grass)

SAN FRANCISCO — When I set out on my trip along the Lincoln Highway from the East Coast to California, my goal was to make it to the California Palace of the Legion of Honor by the time the Lincoln Highway Association‘s western auto tour was going to depart for the highway’s 100th anniversary celebrations in Kearney, Neb.

Just as I was wrapping up my transcontinental journey, I wanted to see these Lincoln Highway enthusiasts off. It was early on this Sunday morning in mid to late June and San Francisco was shrouded in fog, as it apt to happen.

To reach the end point of the Lincoln Highway at the Pacific Ocean — my ultimate destination for this trip — I decided to drive along the Embarcadero from the Bay Bridge up toward the Marina District, cut south and eventually make my out through the Inner Richmond District via California Street to the Palace of the Legion of Honor, which sits within Lincoln Park, where the highway terminates.

Although I had been in San Francisco one time before for a work trip more than a decade ago, this was my first time as a driver in the city itself. But in any regard, San Francisco is built mostly on a grid — in my youth, I loved studying my fold-out map of San Francisco — so, how hard could it be?

Well, to make a long story somewhat shorter, I got caught up in the hills of Pacific Heights, on the edge of the Presidio, where the street grid is interrupted, and I had to doubleback to Divisadero Street.

This slower route, plus countless four-way stops, ended up costing me 15 to 20 minutes longer than I had anticipated. So just as I was driving up El Camino Del Mar from Sea Cliff, I saw a couple of vintage automobiles with Lincoln Highway Association placards driving away from the Palace of the Legion of Honor. Had I missed the departure of the auto tour?

I parked just down the hill from the plaza outside the large French neoclassical building, a memorial to soldiers who died during World War I which is part of the Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco and was modeled after the original Palace of the Legion of Honor in Paris.

Hitchcock fans will recognize this building as the art gallery where Scottie (Jimmy Stewart) followed Madeleine (Kim Novak) to the mysterious portrait of Carlotta Valdes.

As I stepped out of the car, I could feel the strong breeze from the Pacific. I could hear the ocean break on the rocks. But I couldn’t actually see the ocean in the sea of grey that surrounded me. It was OK, since I had already seen the Pacific earlier this winter at Waikiki, Kailua or the North Shore on Oahu.

Not being able to establish visual contact with the ocean, but being able to still know it was there, actually made this moment for more interesting, moody and mysterious.

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From this point, I could hear the Pacific, which was somewhere beyond the golf course below. (Photo by Michael E. Grass)

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Off into the fog. (Photo by Michael E. Grass)

By the time I walked up to the Palace of the Legion of Honor’s plaza where the auto caravan had gathered, there were only a few cars left. And those final holdouts soon departed into the fog for their long journey east to the middle of the continent. So I had essentially missed them, but made it just in time to snap a few quick photos of a few cars disappearing into the fog.

I was momentarily let down that I had more or less missed the Lincoln Highway Association auto caravan, but then something suddenly clicked.

I had made it to the Pacific! At long last, after driving thousands of miles, across the mountains, plains, forests and deserts, I realized I had accomplished my mission to drive the Lincoln Highway across the continent.

Now, I just had to make my way back east.

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Staring Down Disaster in California

Damage from Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. (Photo by Flickr user EditorB via CC BY 2.0 >>)

Damage from Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. (Photo by Flickr user EditorB via CC BY 2.0 >>)

BERKELEY, Calif. — Back in 2005, a friend of mine was contemplating a trip to New Orleans.

“You should go to New Orleans before a huge hurricane destroys the city,” I said.

I had been recently reading about the nightmare Hurricane Pam scenario that disaster planners had been predicting for the city.

My friend ended up going to the Big Easy and had a good time. But later that year, Hurricane Katrina brought its destruction to New Orleans, bringing a terrible level of devastation and disruption and depopulation few major American cities have ever had to face.

When I eventually make it to New Orleans — who knows, maybe later this year? — I know I will never experience what made the pre-Katrina city such a special place.

Great cities change and evolve of course. They rebuild after great disasters like hurricanes, earthquakes and fires. Usually, they triumph over their struggle and emerge stronger, better places. San Francisco, my final Lincoln Highway destination, awaiting me across the bay from Berkeley, is a testament to that.

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Two woman search the ruins of San Francisco in the aftermath of the 1906 earthquake and fire. (Photo via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division >>)

Two woman search the ruins of San Francisco in the aftermath of the 1906 earthquake and fire. (Photo via Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division >>)

New Orleans, of course, is more precarious. It’s living on borrowed time. Rising sea levels, sinking land and stronger storms are likely to swamp the city again someday, no matter how high levees can be made.

Heading into the Bay Area, on the final leg of my crosscountry Lincoln Highway trek, disaster has been on my mind. I blame this in part to my first job out of college, working as a consultant for a Federal Transit Administration disaster and emergency preparedness program that aimed to help local transit agencies coordinate with federal, state and local government and first responders before disaster struck. (My last trip to the Bay Area was during a work trip for the FTA in 2002.)

Natural disasters and California are closely intertwined, as residents of the Golden State know well.

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The Best Beach So Far This Year?

The view of California from Nevada Beach in Zephyr Cove, Nev. (Photo by Michael E. Grass)

The view of California from Nevada Beach in Zephyr Cove, Nev. (Photo by Michael E. Grass)

ZEPHYR COVE, Nev. — I’ve been truly lucky to have visited some wonderful beaches so far this year. The standouts have been Kailua on Oahu’s Windward coast and a private stretch of sand I had mostly to myself near Mahogany Bay on Barbados this past winter.

While my ultimate destination for my Lincoln Highway trip has been San Francisco, I feel like this beautiful view has been my reward for my long journey across the United States. This beautiful spot is Nevada Beach on Lake Tahoe. I’m in the middle of the Sierra Nevadas. Across the lake is the great state of California.

Nevada Beach, near the Nevada-California state line on the southern end of Lake Tahoe. (Photo by Michael E. Grass)

Nevada Beach, near the Nevada-California state line on the southern end of Lake Tahoe. (Photo by Michael E. Grass)

After crossing the great expanses of the Great Basin and the Great Plains, it’s nice to see a sizable body of water that’s not salty. Earlier on this trip, I listened to this National Public Radio report featuring a group of crazy swimmers who battle brine flies and endure pickled tongues while swimming in the Great Salt Lake.

A lake that’s saltier than the ocean with water that’s corrosive to bare skin is not appealing to swim in. I breezed right by the Great Salt Lake a few days earlier.

Lake Tahoe is a different matter. I happily went for a swim here.

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A Quick Fast Forward to the Western Terminus

A vintage car, part of the Lincoln Highway Association's 100th Anniversary Tour, leaves Lincoln Park in foggy San Francisco on Sunday, June 23, 2013. (Photo by Michael E. Grass)

A vintage car, part of the Lincoln Highway Association’s 100th Anniversary Tour, leaves Lincoln Park in foggy San Francisco on Sunday, June 23, 2013. (Photo by Michael E. Grass)

SAN FRANCISCO — Where I last left off, in northeastern Colorado, I was about to take a few days off to relax in Boulder, Colo. I used part of that down time to catch up on writing from earlier in my trip. Then I had to get back on the road.

Writing, researching, driving long distances and making stops along the way aren’t an ideal mix. But overall, this has certainly been a grand trip.

A quick and timely preview: I’m happy to report that I did indeed reach Lincoln Park in San Francisco, the western terminus of the Lincoln Highway. That’s where, in front of the Legion of Honor, the Lincoln Highway Association’s 100th Anniversary Tour kicked off its western car caravan on Sunday morning. (I arrived at the tail end of the departure of the vintage cars just in time to grab a few quick photos. Then poof! The Lincoln Highway celebrants disappeared into the fog.)

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