I’ve been in love with a bridge for my entire life.
But not just any bridge, the Golden Gate Bridge. I cannot imagine a more perfect marriage of engineering marvel and spectacular location. And who would have thought to paint it bright orange?
This enduring and beloved symbol of San Francisco is guaranteed to impress even the most cynical visitor to “The City”.
Years ago, my ex-boyfriend (who happens to be my husband), took his first trip home with me to San Francisco. I must admit that he was a little weary of listening to me wax poetic about my city. On our first morning there we drove down Highway 101 through Marin County and as we exited the Waldo Tunnel, Joe got his first glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge rising out of the fog.
Halfway over the bridge he said, “Okay, now I get it.”
And when he finally got me it was overlooking “my bridge” on our wedding day. Our dear friend Julie Brown made this picture.
I left The Oakland Tribune about 15 years ago to take a job in Washington, D.C. and I miss San Francisco every day. Every time I return for a visit, one of my first stops is Fort Point, a Civil War era fort at the foot of the south tower of the Golden Gate Bridge. In fact, I never drive past the bridge without stopping. I stand there staring at the magnificent hunk of orange steel, deeply inhaling the salt air as if I could bottle the experience inside of me. Yep, truly a masterpiece.