Golden Gate Bridge Panorama

From the rear viewpoint on Conzelmann Road to the north of the bridge, I was able to catch one last glimpse of the panorama of the bay, downtown, the (former) Alcatraz prison island and the Golden Gate Bridge, before the fog banks drifted in from the west towards the city. “And a high white wall rolled in from the legendary Potato Patch, where Frisco’s fogs are born. In an hour the drifts would be walling through the Golden Gate and the romantic city would be wrapped in white, a young man would take his girl by the hand and go up a long white pavement with a bottle of Tokay in his pocket. That was Frisco.” (Jack Kerouac, On the Road, 1951). On the way back on foot via another viewpoint and the bridge, the south-east end of the bridge was already disappearing into the damp, cold clouds driven by heavy gusts. This cold caught many a pedestrian on the bridge by surprise, having set off lightly dressed on this otherwise gloriously warm May day.