We went west out to San Francisco for the last American adventure. When pioneers cut these trails in search of precious metals precious hope they knew they had reached the end of the line. The point where the land meets the ocean, spouting plumes of fog over the hills marked the end of the discoveries of the New World and the beginning of what would truly become and American dream.
Visitors from the far ends of the world come with an unquenchable thirst to rent Mustang convertibles and cruise down the 101, in the hope that one cool breeze, or minute of the sun on their shoulders will create precisely the same feeling that pushed countless artists to create their California opuses. We chase their dreams to understand more authentically.
In our cherry red Cadillac we are retracing trails well worn. Down the coast to Monterrey and back into the chilled fog filled bowl of the Haight. I can't imagine that much has changed in this place since the last revolution.
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