For a few years now, I’ve been wanting to walk across the Golden Gate Bridge. On Monday, Brian and I did just that. We took the 76 bus from downtown SF all the way out to the Marin side of the bridge and started walking.

Marin was sunny as usual, and a long stretching band of white fog had peeled in from the ocean right through the gate, covering most of the bridge and part of the City. It skimmed right along the water like a wedding gown touches the floor. We walked along in the sun, looking at the wall of mist ahead, surrounded by the whooshing roar of cars and trucks to our right.

At the first red tower, the bridge seemed to disappear, and we walked into the fog. Every once in awhile we stopped and peered over the side. Down in the water, a black seal was swimming around. Boats passed below. We launched some spit over the rail but didn’t see it hit the water due to the enormous height of the span. I was sort of amazed that the rail was so bare and unguarded; an invitation to the hundreds of people who have committed suicide over the decades. But a fence would spoil it for the millions of others who just want to enjoy the view.

We had no view, rather we walked along encased in a cloud. It was cool. Literally! On the other side, after our 1.7 mile stroll, we bought pretzels and an icky muffin, then caught the 28 bus for the long and lame crawl back into the Sunset.

Tomorrow we’re going on a weekend camping trip. I haven’t gone camping since I was like 13. I am excited to be outside, to eat campfire food, to swim, to relax. I am not excited about mosquitoes whining in my ears or about being attacked by mountain lions. Nice kitty.