Leaving San Francisco

This is prompted by the last entry about the "odd jobs" I've held in my life. I bought a bike something like the one above in 1977-78. Bought it in LA and rode it up PCH to Monterey and froze my ... off. Had no coat for riding at night. Stopped and bought newspapers and stuffed them in my shirt and pants to ward off the cold. Stopped every hour or so for coffee. I looked a sight waddling into a cafe with newspapers in my clothing. I finally reached Monterey about 9 or 10 at night and couldn't stop shivering for about an hour. I kept it for the rest of the time I was in Monterey and San Francisco. Cynthia and I went everywhere on it. She bought me an surplus air force flight jacket (leather) so I'd stay warm. (Still have the jacket) She would still ride on the back after she got pregnant. We'd ride down to Carmel to visit the holistic doctor she hoped would be able to deliver the baby. I carried groceries and packages of diapers from Sears on it later. I tooled around the countryside all around Monterey and Salinas and S.F. Kept it parked in a rental space around the corner from our apartment building. We'd sing Leonard Cohen songs together over the rrrr of the engine. At that time, you could ride a motorcycle in California without a helmet, which I did sometimes. The Presido, between where I worked in Monterey and where I lived in Pacific Grove, was a military base and you had to wear a helmet when you rode across the grounds. We were arrested one night and held several hours by the MPs before calmer heads prevailed and they let me go with a warning. When we left San Francisco for Arizona, we decided it was no longer practical and the expense of taking it too great. So I sold it to a girl we knew and taught her to ride it on the streets of SF before we left. I can still see her carreening down a hill, barely missing the parked cars. My brother at 62 just bought himself another one. I could do that.