Angel Island

I keep going back in time. Like a comatose patient who woke up after 12 years. I wasn't in a coma; I moved around a lot. More than ever, in fact. From Santa Clara to SF, and then to Seoul, twice. Then I traveled with my new wife across the US to NYC in 2017, journeyed to Oregon last year, and then to Banff and Glacier this year. It wasn't exactly a stasis in darkness. But it's true that my life was abruptly fractured in 2008. I've been struggling to get back to where I was before since then.

Angel Island, 2008

On the other side of that fault line lies Angel Island. In july 2008, my sisters were visiting and I took them there for the best view in the whole SF Bay Area. The next day, I went back to the dojo, rolled with the boys and then I keeled over for good after that. So coming back here has been a long time goal of mine. It would be a milestone that means that I returned to the pre-illness days, at least symbolically.

The hotel price in SF plummeted for the Labor Day and I decided to take advantage. I was a bit apprehensive -- I just got out of the 8 day struggle after the trip to Banff after all. But I wanted to make it to Angel Island before weather turned wet and this was a good opportunity. I should be able to handle 4.8 miles  as long as I take it slow and easy, I figured. All those hiking I did during the trip to Banff must've boosted my confidence.

Angel Island, 2019

I got to Tiburon with 10 minutes to spare and I still had to park and then get to the ferry dock. I ran and I still was late. Luckly it was day after Labor Day and the empty ferry was in no hurry. I got up to the deck, relaxed and soaked up the view in the sun.

On the way up on Sunset Trail, I took the fire road by mistake and ended up on Northridge trail on the other side. By the time I was there, I already walked 3 miles and there was no turning back: it was Mt. Livermore or bust. The 4.8 mile hike turned into 5.9 mile in total.

And yes, it was good to be back. The sun was in and out of the fog on the way up and then the fog cleared up soon after I arrived. I was lucky: this time of the year, the fog usually doesn't burn off till 2PM. I had my bagel, soaked up the view for 30 more minutes .

I came down 2.2 miles of Northridge Trail in 75 minutes. Substract 30 minutes for 3 breaks I took, that means I must've done it at 3 mph! That's my hiking pace when I was healthy. The hiking poles took the brunt of the downhill impact, so I let the gravity do the work. Still, 3 mph was way too fast and that probably contributed to the aftermath.