The View from the Top

I bought my ticket and I boarded the train, touched down in the land of San Bruno Mountain with Marc Cohn singing in my brain. Caltrain did not disappoint: today's delights included train groupies in a state of sheer ecstasy, induced when the engineer blew past one of the local stations along the way. The train came to a halt before winning approval to back up to the missed station. The bike car being the northernmost car (leading the way to San Francisco), it's a natural magnet for the groupies. The cyclist who disembarked muttered "Once a month . . ."

Puddles lingered from the showers that ended sometime last night, as we pulled away from the gray skies of the south bay into the San Francisco sunshine. The conditions at the top of the hill could not have been more unlike those on January 1. Clear, still, and nearly balmy. The view to the west extended past the Farallon Islands; to the north, past San Francisco and the Marin Headlands to Mount Tam and Drake's Bay; to the east, Mount Diablo and beyond.

Coyote Point is a great vantage point along the approach to SFO, and we picnicked near the water's edge before meandering south along the bay shore and the hills of Redwood City to catch a southbound train in Palo Alto.