My dad and I packed in quite a bit during my last day in San Diego. The first step was packing our stomachs. I’d mentioned some nostalgia over the Walker Brothers pancake house in Chicago, and by whatever grace exists in the univese, they’ve opened ONE location outside of chicagoland, and that location is in San Diego. When I am willing to get into this sort of a line for a pancake, know that it is no ordinary pancake, it is the best damn pancake on earth.
I’m serious. After cramming myself dangerously full of apple pancake and perfect thick-cut bacon, it was determined that we would go ride bikes around Mission Bay. Here’s the thing about that. ‘They’ say that once you learn to ride a bike, you’ll never forget, and that may be true. It took me much, much, MUCH longer than my peers to learn how to ride a bike. My parents hadn’t realized that scabs on knees could possibly become so thick prior to the ‘Melissa attempting to ride a bike year(s)’. So while you may never forget how to ride a bike, let me assure you that if it’s been, say, a good fifteen years since you’ve last straddled one, the first few miles are going to be white-knuckled and shaky. Granted, it was a Monday, so pedestrian traffic around the bay was not as thick as it would be on the weekend, but it was more than thick enough for my tastes. A woman jogging with a double-wide baby stroller cut in front of me, and I worked at keeping a safe distance behind her…but then she slowed down. I couldn’t go around her, as a large group of people were walking in the opposite direction, with a large dog that kept bounding into my lane of ‘traffic’. At this point, I was traveling slow enough to wobble and didn’t know what to do. So, of course, I panicked, yanked the handlebars taking the bike off-path into the sand and then promptly flipped over said handlebars. You never forget how to ride a bike…in the manner to which you are accustomed. We rode for about eight more miles after the, er, incident, and by the end I was doing quite well–riding a lot more confidently, doing a few things off-path without (or with less) fear, engaging street traffic without shitting myself, and only wobbling when reaching back to make sure my wallet hadn’t popped out of my pants pocket as it is wont to do. After we returned the bikes, we took a good long walk to Pacific Beach, seeing as how we still had more time and it was a gorgeous day.
There are wee cabins sitting out on the pier at Pacific Beach that you can rent. I think it would be lovely to spend a night or two sleeping out above the ocean. After we walked back, we STILL had a little more time, so we wandered around Seaport Village a bit. One of the pedicab drivers noted my ‘Benjamin Franklinstein’ shirt and offered us a free ride to wherever we were going, but we declined since we didn’t really have a destination. From Seaport Village, it’s only a short distance to the airport, so my dad dropped me off in plenty of time. It only took me five minutes to get through security, so I decided to get a cool beverage while I waited to board the plane. It was then that I realized how badly my arms were burned, when my skin crinkled in that taut, uncomfortable way as I reached for my wallet. This is another significant piece of evidence that I don’t learn from my mistakes. When I went to Hawaii with Alex, we went snorkling, and I didn’t think to put sunscreen on the backs of my legs, though they’d be hanging out of the water all day long, and consequently got one of the worst burns of my life. This time, I gave no thought to the idea that in the act of riding a bike, my arms would be stretched out in front of me and hence much more exposed than they are normally. That’s how I wound up with a totally elegant farmer-tan-line burn. At the moment, I’m flaking and leaving DNA evidence everywhere, so I must be careful not to commit any murders until AFTER I’m done healing.
I got a sunburn riding my bike last May that I still have noticeable tan-lines from. I’ve been meaning to take a picture as a sunscreen PSA.
Last May!? I suppose I should abandon my naive hope that I’d be back to pasty normal in a month’s time.
This was a REALLY bad sunburn. I was doing a 55 mile ride and neglected to put on sunscreen for some really stupid reason or other. I could hardly walk for a few weeks.
Oooouch 🙁 Did you blister?
I actually did not. I think I seriously lucked out.
I can’t help but notice you are indeed still white-knuckled…
And cabins on a pier? I love that idea. Unless it’s stormy. Then not so much … I guess when you’re up there, you don’t have to look at the planks of wood holding you up…
Indeed, white-knuckled I remain to this very day.
two things:
one, bike riding. We went bike riding around Stanley Park in Vancouver. My first time on a bike in years. I had a hard time with all the bike/ped traffic. Everytime a group of bikers were heading towards me I would flail and scream “I’m gonna diiiiiieee”.
Seemed to keep them out of my way, mostly.
What’s the second thing?
Oh crap, sorry. Blond moment- snorkeling sunburns- when I took my kids to Hawaii a few years ago that happened to them, even with frequent sunscreen, their backs- especially my son’s – were just roasted.
OWIE sunburns suck.
ooooouch. 🙁
Ouch! Rough burn.
Come visit Chicago! I will bring you to get pancakes even though quite frankly that photo of a pancake terrified me.
Trust in their deliciousness. 😀 I don’t normally care for pancakes, this is much less dense and therefore more delicious to me.
Part of me is thinking about lollapalooza this summer.
That’s no pancake… THATS A SPACE STATION!
A space station of cinnamon-y goodness
I’d eat it.
It’s a dutch pancake which is why it is so deliciously floofy instead of flat.
My Netherlands ancestors were so, so smart.