smiles as wide as the Bridge itself

I don't know if you remember this; I hope you do. There were a few moments over the weekend that I found worth commiting to memory. In case you don't, allow me to draw us a picture, Jeremy.

You, Mayle and I had just finished riding our bikes across the Golden Gate Bridge. Faced with two different riding paths, we stopped for directions and decided on the ocean-side trail. We sailed down the grassy path, beneath the massive columns of the bridge and out the other side toward Fort Baker. Our smiles were as wide as the Bridge itself, and as tired as we were, we pressed forward. We passed a few fishermen before our road took us to the Coast Guard station. Thinking that we had lost our way, we asked one of the guards for directions. Much to our surprise, we found out that we had been on the right path, and that our destination was just over the next hill.

We attacked the road once again, eager to reach Sausalito in time to make our ferry back to San Francisco. We were surrounded on all sides by tall trees, green grass, and purple and gold spring flowers - a real feast for the eyes. We then reached the hill and began to climb. Mayle struggled to keep up but fell behind. You stayed with her, encouraging her all the way. I was the lead and didn't notice I had separated from you two until I was halfway up the hill. I slowed down, stepped off my bike, and turned to watch you both from a distance. Mayle was exhausted but determined, huffing and puffing with you circling around her, shouting encouragements and insults to keep her motivated. You and Mayle were full of adrenaline and excitement, laughing all the while as you pedaled up the hill. I tried my best not to read into anything and simply savored the moment.

It wasn't long until you both caught up to me. Once we reached the top, we paused to snap a few photos before entering Sausalito. We had just enough time to grab a few ice cream cones and eat them before hopping aboard the "Blue and Gold" ferry. We made our way to the top deck, where we took a seat to watch our boat leave the dock. We enjoyed the mist and the ocean breeze, and commented on the seagulls following the ferry, floating above us like kites in the wind. I then left for the bathroom, hoping to give you two a moment. When I returned a few minutes later, Mayle's head rested on your shoulder, looking peaceful and calm. You weren't even smiling - you sat there uncomfortably, as if a bum had decided to use you as a pillow. A wicked smile crept onto my face as you tried your best to hide your enjoyment.

I hope you remember how you felt just then. As you've told me since, I can't hope that something will come of all this. That I leave up to you. However, I hope that despite your beliefs otherwise, in some small way, I was not alone in savoring the day.

mayhem at the ski lifts

[Wednesday, 1:07 P.M.] I dug my snowboard deep into the snow and caught up to John, Jane and her boyfriend Tom at the lodge. I was frustrated; I spent the entire morning falling all over the mountain, only occasionally catching up to my friends before losing them further down the slopes.

As I started into my pulled pork sandwich, I thought about what I was doing wrong - too much digging in with my heels, not enough carving, not picking up enough speed. I was holding my friends back and having trouble staying on my feet. My ego was shot - it was only Jane's fourth time skiing, and yet she was tearing up the slopes like a seasoned pro. "It's all mental", I told myself, "I've been doing this for years...this is cake!" By the time we had finished lunch, I was thumping my chest, excited about proving myself and ready to go!

[1:30 P.M.] We lined up at the ski lift, waiting our turn. My friends promised to slow down for me, but I told them that wouldn't be necessary - all the kinks had been worked out. I was eager to start the afternoon right and glued a fat cheesy smile of Confidence to my face. As the chairs came around to scoop up the people in front of us, my attention was inexplicably drawn to my board. We were the next ones to go, when I leaned over just a bit to look down at my stomp pad. John then shouted,

"Hey Nathan, LOOK OUT!!!"

!!!!!!! BAM !!!!!!!

The ski lift had come around and COLLIDED WITH MY HEAD, knocking me flat onto my back. I laid there prostrate for a few seconds, helpless, before my friends helped me back onto my feet. Embarassed, I tried to play it off and waved to the operators reassuringly, "It's okay, everyone, I'm okay!"

Nonetheless, they stopped the lift, and I was ushered to the side by the lift operators. A medic was summoned and we waited for them to check me out for a concussion. Furious with myself and sorry for my friends, I urged my friends to go on ahead.

"Guys, please, just leave me. I'll be fine."

They wouldn't listen, and I grudgingly accepted their help. Tom gave me some water to drink, while Jane kindly placed a hand-made snowball on the growing lump on my head. I told them again and again to go ahead, but they refused to listen. I felt miserable and wanted badly to call it a day.

While we waited, a set of skiers got onto the ski lift. They rode for a few seconds and then collectively FELL OFF, sending their skis and poles in all directions. It was hysterically funny. Once again, the operators had to stop the lift and escort the hapless skiers to the side. We all had a good laugh at their expense...it was a moment that I was glad to share with my friends.

A few moments later, the medic finally arrived and checked me out.

"Do you feel nauseous?"

No.

"Do you feel tingling in any of your limbs?"

Hmm. No.

"Alright then. Here's a Tylenol. Are you ready to join your friends?"