Epilogue
Tour endings are always bittersweet. For the last three and a half weeks I’d been pedaling sixty to seventy miles a day. All of a sudden there was no reason to get up at the crack of dawn, even when my body was primed to get out there. After a good night's sleep at the hotel, I had a nice breakfast at Cafe Reverie. I then cycled around San Francisco to see the sites. I didn’t see any sea lions at Fisherman’s Wharf and I had to walk my bike up one of the steep hills. It was Pride day, and I’ve never seen so many rainbow flags in my life. Many of the thoroughfares were closed to motor traffic for Open Streets, and communities had constructed fanciful wooden structures. I noticed dozens of self-driving cars, which I had never seen before. I needed a bike box and went to Avenue Cyclery next to the hotel. They want $10 per box, and didn’t have the right size. I then went to American Cyclery. A mechanic measured my bike and went down to the basement to search, but didn’t have the right