I think the thing that has surprised us the most about each city we visit is how little time we have there. San Francisco is no exception. I travel here for work occasionally, and I love this place. One day just isn’t enough.
We had to start the morning by rescuing our cars from the sketchy overnight garage. This morning’s attendant was much more talkative and friendly. He did not, however, care to look at the claim checks. We should have done some shopping.
First he rescued the truck, which he could only barely bring to life, and brought it sputtering to the entrance. “Yo, it always do that?” Then the Cabriolet, which he seemed to find just as amusing as Evan and I do. And finally, when he broke out the Alfa, he had a huge grin on his face. “Man, these some pretty old cars.” Indeed, and all likely older than you, sir.
From there, it was a “quick” drive to the next garage. Unfortunately, not having actually driven in this city before, I did not realize how stupid Google Navigation’s advice truly was before it was too late: Turn right onto Market Street.
Past due for starvation prevention, we started wandering and found ourselves at a sushi place just south of the Castro that had pretty killer lunch specials. I could eat fish from San Francisco for the rest of my life and be quite happy about it.
Then we spent the afternoon in the Golden Gate Park on the west side of the city. With such tall trees, it’s surprisingly easy to feel like you’ve left the city for a quiet, green paradise.
Here, we confronted an uncomfortable possibility: the truck may have a cracked head gasket. On a cold start, the exhaust is white, but the sputtering in the garage held still long enough to realize it smells sweet, which indicates coolant. However, there’s no oil floating on the coolant in the radiator, and the oil on the dipstick isn’t milky, so if we’re right, it’s minor and my donkey has plenty of miles left in him. But it does explain why the fan clutch, fan, and water pump were so new: Jaime had an overheating problem. I’ve decided to believe that he thought he fixed it. And in truth, the exhaust issue wasn’t apparent until we encountered cooler weather in Paso Robles.
We’re hoping that the idling issue may be the sign of some partially clogged injectors. After reading yesterday’s post and coming to the same conclusion, Chris Devidal, a coworker at Four Kitchens, proposed his favorite brand of injector cleaner, so after the park, we made a quick stop at AutoZone for two bottles!
Not to go too long without demonstrating that this journey is, in fact, all about food, I split off from the group to meet another coworker, Jon Peck, his wife Sarah, and their baby Genevieve for dinner at a gastropub in SoMa. I haven’t seen that baby since she was a month old, so she was much bigger than last I saw. She kept looking at me and smiling and waving. And she kept trying to reach for the fancy beer. But she still didn’t make much noise. She will absolutely be the coolest kid ever. If I’d been thinking, I would have suggested walking over to the garage to get a picture of baby driving the truck, since all I have is pictures of her hangin’ out with the cool kids in pubs or at tech conferences.
Tomorrow we’ll head out to Phillipsville via the 101, which takes us over the Golden Gate Bridge and up into the redwoods along the Avenue of the Giants. I’m excited!