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I still get that same feeling when I’m standing on the hill looking out at the Pacific as I did when we were fresh out of college and new to the area. I love looking back at the mouth of the Golden Gate and the water below. Our crew used to call that the “the potato patch”, because it was where we’d always have to forge the boat through currents in order to continue a couple hours out to the Farallon Islands to get to the whales. Next to the Golden Gate bridge there’s a harbor seal haul out where hundreds of seals lay on the beach like fat sausages. You wouldn’t know the beach was there unless you were really looking for it. Leaving the headlands, there’s an old school house in the middle of a field. I asked Trey if he would walk Jack out there because I wanted to take a photo of him in front of it. So he walked him out there and told him to “stay” and then walked back to me. I took the photo and yelled to Jack “Good boy, come!”. He sprinted all the way back to us, mouth open wide, smiling. We cheered him on running back to us. I don’t think I will ever forget that. He’s the best, that Jack dog.
After we were done hiking we drove through the rainbow tunnel and over the bridge back home. Sometimes I still have to pinch myself knowing we live in one of the most beautiful places. I don’t take a second of it for granted.